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PRIVATE*  LIBRARY 


i 


J.  S.  LEONHy\F(DT. 


^HAT    impulse    which    prompts     the 
-    motli  to  quit  its  world    of  night   and 


I 

enter  some  radiant   realm    to    whose    bourne 
the  white  hot  flame  seems  but    an    open    door, 
is  like  the  desire  of  man  which  impels  him    to 
%   escape  the  doubt  and  terror   of  mental    dark- 
P   ness  by    way     of    tbose    intellectual     beacons 
*  commonly  known  sis  books. 

ft^JwwiS^iiwS^^****''?***.,  **„ 


COMPLETE   WORKS 


OF 


THOMAS  PAINE. 


CONTAINING    ALL    HIS 


POLITICAL  AND  THEOLOGICAL  WRITINGS, 

PRECEDED    BY    A    LIFE    OF    PAINE. 
BY    CALVIN    BLANCH  A  RD. 


CHICAGO  AND  NEW  YORK : 

BELFOBD,    CLARKE    &    CO. 

1885. 


PRINTED  AND  BOUND  BY 
DONOHUE  &  HENNEBERRY, 

CHICAGO. 


5 
SL 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  PAINE. 


INTRODUCTION. 


A  PULL  and  impartial  history  of  THOMAS  PAINB  alone  can 
supply  that,  the  omission  of  which  falsifies  every  work  pre- 
tending to  give  an  account  of  the  war  for  the  national  inde- 
pendence of  the  United  Statea 

The  American  Revolution  of  1776,  of  which  THOMAS  PAINE 
was  the  author-hero,  was  the  prelude  to  that  far  more  sanguin- 
ary struggle  against  oppression  and  wrong  which  overturned, 
or  irreparably  shook,  every  throne  in  Western  Europe;  includ- 
ing, in  the  category,  even  the  chair  of  St.  Peter;  and  of  which 
struggle  the  most  prominent  author-hero  was  JEAN  JACQUES 
ROUSSEAU. 

This  is  generally  understood.  But  a  truth- incalculably  more 
important  has  hitherto  been  either  wholly  overlooked,  or  but 
glimmeringly  perceived ;  it  is  this : — Both  the  American  and 
French  Revolutions  were  but  prominent  incidents,  or  crisis- 
stages,  in  the  irrepressible  struggle  for  human  rights  which 
commenced  when  nature  implanted  in  her  highest  organism, 
man,  that  instinct  which  points  to  the  goal  of  development; 
that  unconquerable  desire  for  perfect  and  sufficiently-lasting  or 
"  eternal "  happiness,  which  indicates  the  common  aim  and 
attainable  end  of  science,  of  art,  and  of  all  natural,  material- 
istic,, or  intelligible  activities: — that  thirst  for  HV^-^y  which 
can  be  satisfied  by  nothing  short  of  the  revolution  which  will 
remove  all  constraint  — which  will  accomplish  revolution — and 


VL  INTRODUCTION. 

t'lus  justify  LUTHER,  ROUSSEAU,  PAINE,  FOURIER,  and  all  other 
revolutionists.  Of  this  crowning  revolution,  the  text-book  is 
••  The  Positive  Philosophy"  of  AUGUSTS  COMTE. 

Had  Thomas  Paine  been  seconded  as  valiantly  when  he  made 
priestcraft  howl,  as  he  was  when  he  hurled  defiance  against 
kings,  despotism  by  this  time  would  really,  instead  of  only 
nominally,  have  lain  as  low  as  did  its  minions  at  Trenton  and 
Yorktown.  The  land  over  which  the  star-spangled  banner 
waves  would  not  have  become  the  prey  of  corrupt,  spoil-seek- 
ing demagogues,  nor  would  Europe  now  tremble  at  the  nod  of 
a  military  dictator. 

Not  but  that  priestcraft  itself  has  a  substructure,  all  but 
"  supernaturally  "  profound,  which  must  be  sapped  before  jus- 
tice can  be  more  than  a  mockery,  freedom  aught  but  a  mere 
abstraction,  or  happiness  little  else  than  an  ignis  fatuus.  But 
man  should  have  continued  the  great  battle  for  his  rights  wher, 
the  soldiers  and  author-heroes  of  liberty  were  in  the  full  flush 
of  victory ;  instead  of  making  that  vain,  mischievous  and 
ridiculous  (except  as  provisional)  compromise  with  the  human 
inclinations,  called  duty;  and  falling  back  on  that  miserable 
armistice  between  the  wretched  poor  and  the  unhappy  rich,  for 
the  conditions  of  which,  consult  that  refinement  of  treachery, 
misnamed  a  constitution,  and  that  opaque  entanglement,  ab- 
surdly entitled  law.  Can  right  be  done  and  peace  be  main- 
tained, under  institutions  whose  ultimatum  is  to  give  half  a 
breakfast  to  the  million,  and  half  a  million  or  so  to  the  balance 
of  mankind,  conditioned  on  such  anxiety  on  the  part  of  the  latter, 
lest  they  be  added  to  the  million  before  dinner-time,  that 
dyspepsia,  rather  than  nutrition,  "  waits  on  appetite  ? "  Is 
man  irremediably  doomed  to  a  condition  which,  at  shorter  and 


INTRODUCTION. 

shorter  intervals,  forces  him  to  seek  relief  in  one  of  those 
saturnalias  of  carnage  and  devastation  which  throws  progress 
aback,  menaces  civilization  even,  and  yet  but  partially  and 
temporarily  mitigates  human  ills  ?  Is  this  the  whole  sum,  sub- 
stance and  end  of  revolution?  It  appears  to  me,  that  they 
who  believe  this,  and  who  admire  and  commend  Thomas  Paine 
from  their  stand-point,  dishonor  his  memory  far  more  than  his 
professed  enemies  do  or  can. 

But  to  enable  all  to  understandingly  form  their  own  conclu- 
sions, I  shall  give  all  the  essential  facts  with  respect  to  the 
history  before  us,  with  which  a  long  and  careful  search,  under 
most  favourable  circumstances,  has  made  me  acquainted.  For, 
let  facts  be  fairly  stated,  and  truth  be  fully  known,  is  the  corre- 
late of  the  proposition  (the  correctness  of  which  1  demonstrated 
in  a  former  work  "  The  Religion  of  Science  ")  that  nature,  sim- 
ple, scientific  and  artistic,  will  prove  all-sufficient ;  and  neither 
needs,  nor  admits  the  possibility  of,  a  superior :  that  man, 
therefore,  requires  nothing  more  than  what  nature  is  capable 
of  being  developed  into  producing ;  nor  can  he  know  auglit 
beyond  nature,  or  form  what  can  intelligibly  be  called  an  idea 
of  any  happiness  or  good,  superior  to  that  which,  by  means 
of  the  substantial,  including  of  course,  man  himself,  can  be 
procured. 

There  needs  but  to  have  the  light  of  truth  shine  fully  upon 
the  real  character  of  Thomas  Paine,  to  prove  him  to  have  been 
a  far  greater  man  than  his  most  ardent  admirers  have  hitherto 
given  him  credit  for  being.  Paine's  history  is  so  intimately 
connected  with  that  of  progress,  both  before  and  since  his 
time,  that  it  will  necessarily  embrace  a  very  wide  range  of 
liberal  information. 


INTRODUCTION. 

I  am  not  unmindful  that  there  have  been  hundreds,  perhaps 
thousands  of  author-heroes  and  heroines.  Bacon,  Locke,  Lu- 
ther, Voltaire,*  Fourier,  and  Robert  Owen  were  prominently 
of  the  former,  and  Mary  Wollstonecraft  and  Frances  Wright 
were  decidedly  among  the  latter.  But  it  appears  to  me,  that 
none  of  their  writings  have  been  quite  such  text-books  of 
revolution,  as  those  of  Rousseau  and  Paine  were,  and  those  of 
Comte  now  are. 


*  Schlower,  in  hia  "History  of  the  Eighteenth.  Century,"  whilst  speaking 
of  Voltaire,  Shaftesbury,  and  "the  numerous  deists  who  were  reproachfully 
called  atheiate,"  wya,  that  they  "  wielded  the  weapons  "  which  Locke  "hai 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  PAINE. 


PERIOD    FIRST. 
1737—1774. 

FEOM  MB.  PAINE'S  BIKTH  TO  HIS  ABRIVAI,  IN  AMEBICA. 

THOMAS  PAINE  was  born  in  Thetford,  Norfolk  county,  Eng- 
land, on  the  29th  of  January,  1737. 

His  father  was  a  member  of  the  society  of  Friends,  and  a 
stay  maker  by  trade;  his  mother  professed  the  faith  of  the 
Church  of  England. 

At  the  age  of  about  thirteen  years,  he  left  the  common  school, 
in  which,  in  addition  to  the  branches  of  education  usually  taught 
therein,  he  had  learned  the  rudiments  of  Latin,  and  went  to 
work  with  his  father.  But  his  school  teacher,  who  had  been 
chaplain  on  board  a  man-of-war,  had  infused  into  his  young 
and  ardent  mind  such  an  enthusiasm  for  the  naval  service,  that 
after  reluctantly  toiling  about  three  years  at  his  not  very  lucra- 
tive or  promising  calling,  he  left  home,  evidently  resolved  to 
"  seek  the  bubble  reputation  even  in  the  cannon's  mouth,"  and 
to  pursue  his  fortune  through  such  chances  as  the  war  then 
imminent  between  his  country  and  France,  might  offer. 

Dreadful  must  have  been  the  conflict  between  his  compas- 
sionate nature  and  his  necessities  and  ambition.  Arrived  in 
London,  without  friends  or  money,  he,  nevertheless,  strove  by 
every  means  in  his  power  to  settle  himself  honorably  in  the 
world,  without  embracing  the  dreadful  profession  he  had  been 
both  constituted  and  educated  to  look  upon  with  horror:  he 
even  hesitated  so  far  as  to  return  to  his  old  occupation. 

After  working  a  few  weeks  for  Mr.  Morris,  in  Hanover  street, 
Long  Acre,  he  went  to  Dover,  where  he  also  worked  a  short 
time  for  a  Mr.  Grace. 


10  PERIOD   FIRST. 

War  between  England  and  France  had  now  been  declared ; 
our  hero  was  in  all  the  buoyancy  of  youth,  being  not  yet  seven- 
teen years  old;  fortune  and  glory  were  possible  on  the  one 
hand,  poverty  and  toil  inevitable  on  the  other. 

"War  is  murder,  'tis  true;  murder,  all  the  more  heinous  for 
being  gloried  in;  murder,  all  the  more  abominable  for  the  mag- 
nificence of  the  scale  on  which  it  is  perpetrated;  murder,  which 
touches  the  lowest  depths  of  cowardice,  in  being  carried  on  by 
vast  armies  and  immense  fleets,  instead  of  by  smaller  and  bolder 
gangs  of  pirates,  and  by  more  venturesome  banditti.  But  its 
infernal  craft  would  sail,  and  its  death-dealing  cannon  be 
manned,  equally  with  or  without  him;  and  the  place  which  he 
refused  would  be  taken,  probably  by  some  one  with  far  less 
tenderness  for  a  wounded  or  surrendered  foe. 

On  board  the  privateer  "  Terrible,"  Captain  Death,  enlisted, 
probably  in  the  capacity  of  a  sailor  or  marine,  the  man  who 
was  afterwards  the  soul  of  a  revolution  which  extended  elective 
government  over  the  most  fertile  portion  of  the  globe,  including 
an  area  more  than  twenty  times  larger  than  that  of  Great 
Britain,  and  who  had  the  unprecedented  honor  to  be  called, 
though  a  foreigner,  to  the  legislative  councils  of  the  foremost 
nation  in  the  world. 

For  some  unexplained  cause,  Paine  left  the  "  Terrible"  almost 
immediately,  and  shipped  on  board  the  "  King  of  Prussia."  But 
the  affectionate  remonstrances  of  his  father  soon  induced  him 
to  quit  privateering  altogether. 

In  the  year  1759,  he  settled  at  Sandwich,  as  a  master  stay- 
maker.  There  he  became  acquainted  with  a  young  woman  of 
considerable  personal  attractions,  whose  name  was  Mary  Lam- 
bert, to  whom  he  was  married  about  the  end  of  the  same  year. 

His  success  in  business  not  answering  his  expectations,  he, 
in  the  year  1760,  removed  to  Margate.  Here  his  wife  died. 

From  Margate  he  went  to  London ;  thence  back  again  to  his 
native  town;  where,  through  the  influence  of  Mr.  Cocksedge, 
the  recorder,  he,  towards  the  end  of  1763,  obtained  a  situation 
in  the  excise. 

Under  the  pretext  of  some  trifling  fault,  but  really,  as  there 
is  every  reason  for  supposing,  because  he  was  too  conscientious 
to  connive  at  the  villainies  which  were  practiced  by  both  his 
superiors  and  his  compeers  in  office,  he  was  dismissed  from  his 
situation  in  little  more  than  a  year.  It  has  never  been  publicly 
stated  for  what  it  was  pretended  that  he  was  dismissed;  and 


PERIOD   FIRST.  11 

the  fact  that  he  was  recalled  in  eleven  months  thereafter,  shows 
that  whatever  the  charge  against  him  was,  it  was  not  substan- 
tiated, nor  probably,  a  very  grave  one.  That  the  British  govern- 
ment, in  its  subsequent  efforts  to  destroy  his  character,  never 
made  any  handle  of  this  affair,  is  conclusive  in  his  favor. 

During  his  suspension  from  the  excise,  he  repaired  to  London, 
where  he  became  a  teacher  in  an  academy  kept  by  Mr.  Noble 
of  Goodman's  Fields;  and  during  his  leisure  hours  he  applied 
himself  to  the  study  of  astronomy  and  natural  philosophy.  He 
availed  himself  of  the  advantages  which  the  philosophical 
lectures  of  Martin  and  Ferguson  afforded,  and  made  the  ac- 
quaintance of  Dr.  Bevis,  an  able  astranomer  of  the  Royal 
Society. 

On  his  re-appointment  to  the  excise,  Paine  returned  to  Thet- 
ford,  where  he  continued  till  the  spring  of  1768,  when  the 
duties  of  his  office  called  him  to  Lewes,  in  Sussex.  There  he 
boarded  in  the  family  of  Mr.  Ollive,  tobacconist;  but  at  the  end 
of  about  twelve  months,  the  latter  died.  Paine  succeeded  him  in 
business,  and  in  the  year  1771,  married  his  daughter. 

In  1772,  he  wrote  a  small  pamphlet  entitled  "The  Case  of 
the  Excise  Officers."  Although  this  was  specially  intended  to 
cover  the  case  of  a  very  ill-paid  class  of  government  officers,  it 
was  remarkably  clear  and  concise,  showing  that  the  only  way  to 
make  people  honest,  is  to  relieve  them  from  the  necessity  of 
being  otherwise. 

This  pamphlet  excited  both  the  alarm  and  hatred  of  his 
superiors  in  office,  who  were  living  in  luxury  and  ease,  and 
who,  besides  getting  nearly  all  the  pay  for  doing  hardly  any  of 
the  work,  were  becoming  rich  by  smuggling,  which  their  posi- 
tions enabled  them  to  carry  on  almost  with  impunity.  They 
spared  no  pains  to  pick  some  flaw  in  the  character  or  conduct  of 
the  author  of  their  uneasiness,  but  could  find  nothing  of  which 
to  accuse  him,  except  that  he  kept  a  tobacconist's  shop  ;  this 
however,  under  the  circumstances,  was  sufficient,  and  the  most 
honest,  if  not  the  only  conscientious  exciseman  in  all  England, 
was  finally  dismissed,  in  April,  1774. 

Paine  associated  with,  and  was  highly  respected  by  the  best 
society  in  Lewes,  although  so  poor,  that  in  a  month  after  his 
dismissal  from  office,  his  goods  had  to  be  sold  to  pay  his  debts; 
a  very  strong  proof  that  he  had  never  abused  his  official  trust. 

I  have  twice  already  so  far  violated  my  own  taste,  to  please 
that  of  others,  as  to  mention  that  the  subject  of  these  memoirs 


12  PERIOD  FIRST. 

had  been  married.  But  I  cannot  consent  to  meddle  further 
•with,  and  assist  the  public  to  peer  into  affairs  with  which  none 
but  the  parties  immediately  concerned  have  any  business,  except 
under  protest.  Therefore,  I  do  now  most  solemnly  protest,  that 
I  feel  more  guilty,  more  ashamed,  and  more  as  though  I  ought 
to  have  my  nose  rung,  for  writing  anything  at  all  about  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Paine's  sexual  affairs,  than  I  should,  were  I  to  enter 
into  a  serious  inquiry  respecting  the  manner  in  which  they  per- 
formed any  of  their  natural  functions.  Still,  reader  you  may 
be  sure  of  my  fidelity;  you  need  not  suspect  that  I'm  going  to 
suppress  any  of  the  facts,  for  if  I  undertake  to  do  a  thing,  I'll 
carry  it  through,  if  it's  ever  so  mean. 

To  begin,  then: — 

In  the  flowery  month  of  May,  exactly  one  thousand  seven 
hundred  and  seventy-four  years  after  Jehovah  had  been  pre- 
sented with  a  son  by  a  woman  whom  he  never,  not  even  subse- 
quently married,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Paine  separated;  not  through 
the  intervention  of  the  grim  tyrant  who  had  caused  the  separa- 
tion between  Mr.  Paine  and  his  first  wife,  but  for  that  most 
heinous  of  all  imaginable  causes,  in  old  fogy  estimation,  mutual 
consent.  On  the  fourth  of  June,  in  the  year  just  designated, 
Mr.  Paine  signed  articles  of  agreement,  freely  relinquishing  to 
his  wife  all  the  property  of  which  marriage  had  legally  robbed 
her  for  his  benefit.  This  was  just;  but  a  Thomas  Paine  would 
blush  to  call  it  magnanimous.  Behold  them  both,  in  the  prime 
of  life  in  a  predicament  in  which  they  were  debarred,  by  the 
inscrutable  wisdom  of  society,  from  the  legal  exercise  of  those 
functions  on  which  nearly  all  their  enjoyments,  including  health 
itself,  depended. 

All  the  causes  of  this  separation  are  not  known.  Well,  I'm 
heartily  glad  of  it.  Yet  I  delight  not  in  beholding  vexation 
and  disappointment,  even  though  the  victims  are  the  impertin- 
ently inquisitive.  Still,  I  repeat,  I'm  most  heartily  glad  of  it. 

That  neither  Mr.  nor  Mrs.  Paine  abused,  or  voluntarily  even 
offended  each  other,  is  conclusive  from  the  fact  that  Mr.  Paine 
always  spoke  very  respectfully  and  kindly  of  his  wife;  and, 
says  the  veracious  Clio  Rickman,  "  frequently  sent  her  money, 
without  letting  her  know  the  source  whence  it  came;"  and  Mrs. 
Paine  always  held  her  husband  in  such  high  eeteem,  though  she 
differed  widely  from  him  in  the  importantand  complicated  matter 
of  religion,  that  if  any  one  spoke  disrespectfully  of  him  in  her 
presence,  she  deigned  not  a  word  of  answer,  but  indignantly 


PERIOD  FIRST.  13 

left  the  room,  even  though  she  were  at  table.  If  questioned  on 
the  subject  of  her  separation  from  her  marital  partner,  she  did 
the  same.  Sensible  woman. 

"  Clio  Rickman  asserts,  and  the  moat  intimate  friends  of  Mr. 
Paine  support  him,"  says  Mr.  Gilbert  Vale  in  his  excellent  Life 
of  Paine,*  to  which  I  here,  once  for  all,  acknowledge  myself 
much  indebted,  "  that  Paine  never  cohabited  with  his  second 
wife.  Sherwin  treats  the  subject  as  ridiculous;  but  Clio  Rick- 
man was  a  man  of  integrity,  and  he  asserts  that  he  has  the 
documents  showing  this  strange  point,  together  with  others, 
proving  that  this  arose  from  no  physical  defects  in  Paine." 
When  the  question  was  plainly  put  to  Mr.  Paine  by  a  friend, 
instead  of  spitting  in  the  questioner's  face,  or  kicking  him,  he 
replied: — "I  had  a  cause;  it  is  no  business  of  anybody."  Oh, 
immortal  Paine  !  Did  you  know  the  feelings  which  the  writ- 
ing of  the  five  last  paragraphs  has  cost  me,  you  would  forgive ; 
ay,  even  pity  me. 

And  now,  dear  public,  having,  to  please  you,  stepped  aside 
from  the  path  of  legitimate  history,  permit  me  to  continue  the 
digression  a  little,  in  order  to  please  myself.  Surely  you  can 
afford  some  extra  attention  to  one  who  has  sacrificed  his  feel- 
ings, and,  but  for  what  I  am  now  going  to  say,  will  have  sacrificed 
his  self-respect,  even,  for  your  accommodation. 

A  large  portion  of  the  Christian  world  believes  that  the  mar- 
riage tie,  once  formed,  should  continue  till  severed  by^leath, 
or  adultery.  This  is  supposed  to  be, — first,  in  accordance  with 
scripture;  secondly,  in  accordance  with  the  best  interests  of 
society.  "  What  God  hath  joined,  let  not  man  put  asunder," 
except  for  "  cause  of  adultery,"  is  the  text  in  the  first  place, 
and  the  prevention  of  licentiousness,  and  regard  for  the  in- 
terests of  children,  constitute  the  pretext  in  the  second  place. 
But  society  blindly  jumps  to  the  conclusion  that  the  constantly 
varying  decrees  of  legislative  bodies  designate  "  what  God  hath 
joined,"  and  that  august  body  is  equally  uncritical  with  respect 
to  what  adultery,  both  according  to  scripture  and  common 
sense,  means.  When  any  joining  becomes  abhorent  to  the 
feelings  which  almighty  power  has  implanted  in  man,  to  at- 
tempt to  force  the  continuance  of  such  joining,  under  the  plea 
of  authority  from  such  power,  is  most  atrocious;  and  "  Jesus," 
or  whoever  spoke  in  his  name,  thus  rationally  defines  adultery: 

*  This  "  Life  of  Thomas  Paine,"  by  G.  Vale,  is  published  at  the  office  of 
that  most  able  advocate  of  free  disacussion,  the  "Boston  Investigator." 


14  PERIOD   FIRST. 

"  Whoso  looketh  on  a  woman  to  lust  after  her."  "  Jesus  "  did 
not  condemn  the  woman,  who,  under  pressure  of  legal  restric- 
tion, committed  the  "very  act"  of  adultery;  but  he  did  con- 
demn her  accusers,  in  the  severest  and  most  cutting  manner 
possible. 

\Ve  have  already  shown  the  utter  disregard  which  the 
supposed  almighty  father  of  Jesus  showed — for  monogamic 
marriage;  that  he  did  not  even  respect  vested  rights  in  the 
connection;  that  he  who  is  believed  to  have  said — "  be  ye  per- 
fect even  as  I  am  perfect,"  trampled  on  the  marital  rules 
according  to  which  the  poor  carpenter,  Joseph,  had  been  be- 
trothed to  his  Mary. 

How  well  the  son  of  Mary  followed  in  the  footsteps  of  his 
"Almighty"  father,  we  have  already  demonstrated;  and  I 
shall  close  all  I  have  to  say  on  the  supposed  divinity  of  this 
subject,  by  calling  the  attention  of  the  reader  to  the  high  re- 
spect which  "  Jesus "  paid  to  the  woman  who  had  had  five 
husbands,  and  who  was,  at  the  time  he  did  her  the  honour  to 
converse  with  her  in  public,  and  to  even  expound  his  mission 
to  her,  cohabiting  with  a  man  to  whom  she  was  not  married. 
Nothing  in  scripture  is  plainer,  than  that  Jesus  was  such  an 
out  and  out  free-lover  in  principle,  as  to  hold  that  as  soon  as 
married  people  looked  on  others  than  each  other  with  lustful 
eyes,  they  were  no  longer  so,  legally;  but  that  their  old  con- 
nections should  give  place  to  new  ones.  In  the  perfect  state 
which  "  Jesus  "  in  his  parabolical  language  called  "  Heaven," 
he  explicitly  declared,  in  reference  to  what  the  old  fogies  of 
his  time  called  marriage,  "  that  they  neither  marry  nor  are 
given  in  marriage ; "  and  if  "  the  Saviour  "  said  this  in  repro- 
bation of  the  comparatively  slight  bondage  which  encumbered 
marriage  in  Judea,  eighteen  hundred  years  ago,  what  would 
lie  say  were  he  to  visit  Christendom  at  the  present  time  ? 

Wouldn't  he  make  the  "  whip  of  small  cords  "  with  which 
fie  thrashed  the  money  changers,  whiz  about  the  ears  of  those 
legislators  and  judges,  who  dare  christen  their  tyrannical  and 
abominable  inventions — marriage  !  who  have  the  audacity  to 
attribute  their  wretched  expedients  and  stupid  blunders  to 
eternal  wisdom  1 

So  much  as  to  the  scriptural  view  of  marriage.  For  infor- 
mation as  to  the  effects  of  "  legal  marriage "  in  the  cure  of 
licentiousness,  and  in  promoting  the  welfare  of  children,  con- 
•ult  the  records  of  prostitution,  the  alms-house  registers,  and 


PERIOD   FIRST.  15 

the  swarms  of  beggars,  by  which  you  are  continually  impor- 
tuned. As  to  the  effect  of  the  "  holy  bonds "  on  domestic 
felicity,  I  verily  believe  that  if  they  were  suddenly  and  com- 
pletely severed,  the  dealers  in  arsenic  who  happened  to  have 
but  little  stock  on  hand,  would  bless  their  lucky  stars. 

And  I  speak  from  a  knowledge  of  the  causes  which  either 
favorably  or  unfavorably  affect  the  human  organism,  in  saying, 
that  it  is  perfectly  certain,  that  if  the  unnatural  tie  which 
arrogates  the  name  of  marriage,  was  universally  severed, 
suicide  would  diminish  one-half,  idiocy  and  insanity  would  '"^LT'O 
disappear,  prolapsus  uteri  and  hysteria  would  be  almost  un-  1  ^^*" 
known,  the  long  catalogue  of  diseases  consequent  on  hopeless 
despair,  dreary  ennui,  and  chronic  fretfulness,  would  be  shorn 
of  nine-tenths  its  present  length,  the  makers  of  little  shrouds 
and  coffins  would  have  little  or  nothing  to  do,  and  the  business 
of  abortionists  would  be  ruined.  In  short,  if  matrimonial 
bondage  was  abolished,  and  our  social  structure  reorganized, 
so  as  to  correspond  with  the  change,  the  "  broken  spirit "  that 
"drieth  the  bones,"  would  so  give  place  to  "the  merry  heart, 
that  doeth  good  like  a  medicine,"  that  little  of  the  doctor's 
medicine  would  be  needed;  and  human  life  would  receive  an 
accession  of  at  least  twenty  per  cent,  in  length,  and  one  hun-  P^t/^  C 
dred  per  cent,  in  value.  fLt^ 

But  indissoluble  marriage,  and  its  correlates,  adultery,  for- 
nication, prostitution,  the  unmentionable  crime  against  nature, 
and  masturbation,  are  part  and  parcel  of  the  present  imperfect 
condition  of  all  things  in  man's  connection;  of  the  remedy  for 
which,  I  shall  treat,  when  I  come  to  consider  the  universality 
and  thoroughness  of  the  revolution  in  which  Paine  was,  with- 
out but  glimmeringly  perceiving  it,  so  efficient  an  actor. 

In  1774,  Mr.  Paine  went  again  to  London;  where,  soon 
after  his  arrival,  he  made  the  acquaintance  of  Dr.  Franklin 
(then  on  an  embassy  to  the  British  government,  from  one  of 
her  North  American  provinces),  who,  perceiving  in  him  abili- 
ties of  no  ordinary  character,  advised  him  to  quit  his  native 
country,  where  he  was  surrounded  by  so  many  difficulties, 
and  try  his  fortune  in  America;  he  also  gave  him  a  letter 
of  introduction  to  one  of  his  most  intimate  friends  in  Phila- 
delphia. 

Paine  left  England  towards  the  end  of  the  year  1774,  and 
arrived  in  Philadelphia  about  two  months  thereafter. 


PEBIOD  SECOND. 


PERIOD    SECOND. 
1774—1787. 


FBOH  MB.  PAINB'S  ARRIVAL  IN  AMERICA,  TO  HIS  DEPARTURE  FOB  FBANCB; 

EMBRACING  HIS  TRANSACTIONS  IN  THE  AMERICAN  REVOLUTION. 

SHORTLY  after  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Paine  in  America,  he  was 
engaged  as  editor  of  the  "  Pennsylvania  Magazine,"  the  publi- 
cation of  which  had  just  been  commenced,  by  Mr.  Aitkin, 
bookseller,  of  Philadelphia.  This  brought  him  acquainted 
with  Dr.  Rush. 

Up  to  this  period,  Paine  had  been  a  whig.  But  from  the 
practical  tone  of  much  of  his  editorial,  it  is  probable  that  he 
now  began  to  suspect  that  that  speculative  abstraction,  British 
constitutionalism,  had  exhausted  its  usefulness  in  the  economy 
of  the  social  organism ;  and  that  human  progress  could  reach 
a  higher  plane  than  that,  the  foundations  of  which  were  a 
theological  church  establishment,  and  its  corresponding  hotch- 
potch of  kings,  lords,  and  commons.  And  here  I  will  remark, 
that  Paine's  distinguishing  characteristic — the  trait  which  con- 
stituted his  greatness — was  his  capability  of  being  ahead  of 
his  time.  Were  he  bodily  present  now,  he  would  be  as  far  in 
advance  of  the  miserable  sham  of  freedom  to  which  the  major- 
ityism  which  he  advocated,  though  provisionally  necessary,  has 
dwindled,  as  he  was  in  advance  of  the  governmental  expedient, 
which  reached  the  stage  of  effeteness  in  his  day.  "  The  Cri- 
sis," instead  of  commencing  with  "  These  are  the  times  that 
try  men  souls,"  would  begin  with  "  These  are  the  times  that 
exhaust  men's  power  of  endurance."  Demagogism,  with  the 
whole  power  of  the  majority  to  enforce  its  tyranny,  has  de- 
clared that  "to  the  victors  belong  the  spoils;"  that  it  has  a 
right  to  bind  the  minority  in  all  cases  whatsoever.  Its  reck- 
lessness is  in  complete  contrast  with  the  regard  which  even 
Britain  pays  to  the  interests  of  her  subjects;  and  in  taxation, 
and  peculation  in  office,  it  out-does  Auptnan  despotism  itself. 


PEEIOD   SECOND.  17 

"Majorityism  has  carried  its  insolence  so  far  as  to  despise 
nothing  so  much  as  the  name  and  memory  of  him  who  risked 
his  life,  his  honor,  his  all,  to  protect  its  infancy;  it  has  scorn- 
fully refused  his  portrait  a  place  on  the  walls  of  the  very  hall 
which  once  rang  with  popular  applause  of  the  eloquence  which 
his  soul-stirring  pleas  for  elective  franchise  inspired." 

"Yes;  the  city  council  of  Philadelphia  has,  in  1859,  in 
obedience  to  the  commands  of  that  public  opinion,  which  was 
the  court  of  last  appeal,  of  him  who  first,  on  this  continent, 
dared  pronounce  the  words  American  Independence,  refused, 
his  portrait  a  place  by  the  side  of  his  illustrious  co-workers; 
thus  rebuking,  and  most  impudently  insulting  Washington, 
who  in  an  ecstacy  of  admiration  grasped  the  hand  of  the  author 
of  '  Common  Sense,'  and  invited  him  to  share  his  table ; 
Franklin,  who  invited  him  to  our  shores;  Lafayette,  to  whom 
he  was  dearer  than  a  brother;  Barlow,  who  pronounced  him 
'one  of  the  most  benevolent  and  disinterested  of  mankind;' 
Thomas  Jefferson,  who  sent  a  government  ship  to  reconduct 
him  to  our  shores;  and  all  the  friends  of  popular  suffrage  in 
France,  who,  at  the  time  that  tried  men's  souls  there,  elected 
him  to  their  national  councils." 

"  Like  the  Turkish  despot  who  cut  off  the  head  and  blotted 
out  of  existence  the  family  of  his  prime  minister,  to  whom  he 
owed  the  preservation  of  his  throne,  majorityism  has  crowded 
the  name  of  its  chief  apostle  almost  out  of  the  history  of  its 
rise." 

"  Freedom  of  speech,  particularly  on  religious  subjects,  and 
on  the  government's  pet  project,  is  a  myth;  every  seventh  day 
the  freedom  of  action  is  restricted  to  going  to  church,  dozing 
away  the  time  in  the  house,  taking  a  disreputable  stroll,  or 
venturing  on  a  not  strictly  legal  ride.  We  have  nothing  like 
the  amount  of  individual  freedom  which  is  enjoyed  by  the  men 
and  women  of  imperially  governed  France;  and  notwithstand- 
ing the  muzzling  of  the  press  by  Louis  Napoleon,  there  could 
be  published  within  the  very  shade  of  the  Tuilleries,  a  truer 
and  more  liberal  history  of  Democracy  and  its  leaders,  and  of 
American  Independence,  than  any  considerable  house,  except 
the  one  from  which  this  emanates,  dare  put  forth,  within  the 
vast  area  over  which  the  star-spangled  banner  waves. 

"  This  is  but  a  tithe  of  the  despotism  which  public  opinion, 
free  to  be  formed  by  priests,  and  directed  bv  demagogues,  has 
inflicted:  but  a  faint  view  of  how  abominably  prostituted 
9 


18  PERIOD  SECOND. 

liberty  must  inevitably  become,  if  unregulated  by  scienca  If 
democracy  has  not  exhausted  all  the  good  there  was  in  it — if 
majorityism  has  not  become  effete,  and  as  obnoxious  to  progress 
as  monarchy  ever  was — in  short,  if  what  is  now  called  liberty, 
is  not  slavery,  there  is  not  such  a  thing  as  slavery  on  the 
earth." 

At  the  close  of  the  year  1775,  when  the  American  Revo- 
lution had  progressed  as  far  as  the  battles  of  Lexington  and 
Bunker  Hill,  John  Adams,  Benjamin  Rush,  Benjamin  Frank- 
lin, and  George  Washington,  had  met  together  to  read  the 
terrible  despatches  they  had  received.  Having  done  which, 
they  pause  in  gloom  and  silence.  Presently  Franklin  speaks : 
"  What,"  he  asks,  "  is  to  be  the  end  of  all  this  ?  Is  it  to  obtain 
justice  of  Great  Britain,  to  change  the  ministry,  to  soften  a 

tax?  Or  is  it  for" He  paused;  the  word  independence 

yet  choked  the  bravest  throat  that  sought  to  utter  it. 

At  this  critical  moment,  Paine  enters.  Franklin  introduces 
him,  and  he  takes  his  seat.  He  well  knows  the  cause  of  the 
prevailing  gloom,  and  breaks  the  deep  silence  thus:  "These 
States  of  America  must  be  independent  of  England.  That  is 
the  only  solution  of  this  question !"  They  all  rise  to  their  feet 
at  this  political  blasphemy.  But,  nothing  daunted,  he  goes  on ; 
his  eye  lights  up  with  patriotic  fire  as  he  paints  the  glorious 
destiny  which  America,  considering  her  vast  resources,  ought 
to  achieve,  and  adjures  them  to  lend  their  influence  to  rescue 
the  Western  Continent  from  the  absurd,  unnatural,  and  unpro- 
gressive  predicament  of  being  governed  by  a  small  island,  three 
thousand  miles  off.  Washington  leaped  forward,  and  taking 
both  his  hands,  besought  him  to  publish  these  views  in  a  book. 

Paine  went  to  his  room,  seized  his  pen,  lost  sight  of  every 
other  object,  toiled  incessantly,  and  in  December,  1775,  the 
work  entitled  "Common  Sense,"  which  caused  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  and  brought  both  people  and  their  leaders  face 
to  face  with  the  work  they  had  to  accomplish,  was  sent  forth 
on  its  mission.  "That  book,"  says  Dr.  Rush,  "burst  forth 
from  the  press  with  an  eff  ;ct  that  has  been  rarely  produced  by 
types  and  paper,  in  any  age  or  country." 

"  Have  you  seen  the  pamphlet,  '  Common  Sense?' "  asked 
Major  General  Lee,  in  a  letter  to  Washington ;  "  I  never  saw 
such  a  masterly,  irresistible  performance.  It  will,  if  I  mis- 
take not,  in  concurrence  with  the  trancendent  folly  and  wicked- 
oesa  of  the  ministry,  give  the  coup-de-grace  to  Great  Britain. 


PERIOD   SECOND.  19 

In  short,  I  own  myself  convinced  by  the  arguments,  of  the 

necessity  of  separation." 

That  idea  of  Independence  the  pen  of  Paine  fed  with  fuel 
from  his  brain  when  it  was  growing  dim.  We  cannot  overrate 
the  electric  power  of  that  pen.  At  one  time  Washington 
thought  that  his  troops,  disheartened,  almost  naked,  and  half 
starved,  would  entirely  disband.  But  the  Author-Hero  of  the 
Revolution  was  tracking  their  march  and  writing  by  the  light 
of  camp-fires  the  series  of  essays  called  "The  Crisis."  And 
when  the  veterans  who  still  clung  to  the  glorious  cause  they 
had  espoused  were  called  together,  these  words  broke  forth 
upon  them:  "These  are  the  times  that  try  men's  souls.  The 
summer  soldier  and  the  sunshine  patriot  will,  in  this  crisis, 
shrink  from  the  service  of  his  country;  but  he  that  stands  it 
now,  deserves  the  love  and  thanks  of  man  and  woman.  Tyranny, 
like  Hell,  is  not  easily  conquered ;  yet  we  have  this  consolation 
with  us,  that  the  harder  the  conflict,  the  more  glorious  the 
triumph." 

"These  are  the  times  that  try  men's  souls,"  was  the  watchword 
at  the  battle  of  Trenton,  and  Washington  himself  set  the  pen 
of  Paine  above  any  sword  wielded  that  day.  But  we  need  not 
dwell  on  the  fact  of  Paine's  services  and  influence  at  this  event- 
ful period.  He  stood  the  acknowledged  leader  of  American 
statemanship,  and  the  soul  of  the  American  Revolution,  by  the 
proclamation  of  the  Legislatures  of  all  the  States,  and  that  of 
the  Congress  of  the  United  States;  the  tribute  of  his  greatest 
enemy  was  in  these  words :  "  The  cannon  of  Washington  was 
not  more  formidable  to  the  British  than  the  pen  of  the  author 
of  'Common  Sense.' "  A  little  less  modesty,  a  little  more  pre- 
ference of  himself,  to  humanity,  and  a  good  deal  more  of  what 
ought  to  be  common  sense  on  the  part  of  the  people  he  sought 
to  free,  and  he  would  have  been  President  of  the  United  States ; 
and  America,  instead  of  France,  would  have  had  the  merit  of 
bestowing  the  highest  honor  on  the  most  deserving  of  mankind. 

If  Paine  had  been  consulted  to  the  extent  he  ought  to  have 
been,  by  those  who  modeled  the  republic  he  was  so  instru- 
mental in  starting  into  existence,  our  social  structure  would 
have  been  so  founded,  that  it  might  have  lasted  till  superseded 
by  the  immeasurably  better  one  to  which  I  shall  presently 
allude,  and  to  which,  as  I  shall  show,  his  measures  aimed.  It 
would  not  now  depend  upon  a  base  so  uncertain  that  it  has  to 
be  carefully  shored  up. by  such  props  as  gibbets,  prisons,  alms- 


20  PERIOD  SECOND. 

houses,  and  soup-dispensing  committees,  in  order  to  prevent  its 
being  sapped  by  the  hunger-driven  slaves  of  "free  labor,"  nor 
would  our  Union  be  already  in  such  danger  of  falling  to  pieces, 
that  the  cords  which  bind  it  together  are  as  flimsy  as  cotton, 
and  as  rotten  as  are  the  souls  of  those  who  expose  both  their 
religious  and  their  political  opinions  for  sale  as  eagerly  as  they 
do  their  most  damaged  goods. 

On  the  17th  of  April,  1777,  Congress  elected  Mr.  Paine 
secretary  to  the  committee  of  foreign  affairs.  In  this  capacity, 
he  stood  in  the  same  relation  to  the  committee  that  the  English 
secretary  for  foreign  afiairs  did  to  the  Cabinet,  and  it  was  not 
from  vanity,  but  in  order  to  preserve  the  dignity  of  the  new 
government  under  which  he  acted,  that  he  claimed  the  title 
which  was  bestowed  on  the  British  minister,  who  performed  a 
function  corresponding  to  his  own, 

"The  Crisis"  is  contained  in  sixteen  numbers;  to  notice 
which,  separately,  would  involve  a  history  of  the  American 
Revolution  itself.  In  fact,  they  comprise  a  truer  history  of 
that  event  than  does  any  professed  history  of  it  yet  written. 
They  comprise  the  soul  of  it,  of  which  every  professed  history  is 
destitute.  A  disgrace  which  this  country  can  never  wipe  out. 

In  January,  1779,  Paine  resigned  his  secretaryship,  in  con- 
sequence of  a  misunderstanding  which  had  taken  place  between 
him  and  Congress,  on  account  of  one  Silas  Deane. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  war,  it  appears  that  Deane  had  been 
employed  as  an  agent  in  France,  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining 
supplies,  either  as  a  loan  from  the  French  government,  or,  if 
he  failed  in  this,  to  purchase  them.  But  before  entering  on 
the  duties  of  his  office,  Dr.  Franklin  and  Mr.  Lee  were  added 
to  the  mission,  and  the  three  proceeded  to  Paris  for  the  same 
purpose.  The  French  monarch,  more  perhaps  from  his  hostility 
to  the  English  government,  than  from  any  attachment  to  the 
American  cause,  acceded  to  the  request;  and  the  supplies  were 
immediately  furnished.  As  France  was  then  upon  amicable 
terms  with  England,  a  pledge  was  given  by  the  American  com- 
missioners that  the  affair  should  remain  a  secret.  The  supplies 
were  accordingly  shipped  in  the  name  of  a  Mr.  Beaumarchais, 
and  consigned  to  an  imaginary  house  in  the  United  States. 
Deane,  taking  advantage  of  the  secresy  which  had  been  promised, 
presented  a  claim  for  compensation  in  behalf  of  himself  and 
Beaumarchais;  thinking  that  the  auditing  committee  would 
prefer  compliance  to  an  exposure  of  their  ally,  the  king  of 


PERIOD   SECOND.  21 

* 

France,  to  a  rupture  with  England.  Mr.  Paine,  perceiving  the 
trick,  and  knowing  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  resolved  on 
laying  the  transaction  before  the  public.  He  accordingly  wrote 
for  the  newspapers  several  essays,  under  the  title  of  "  Common 
Sense  to  the  Public  on  Mr.  Deane's  Affairs,"  in  which  he 
exposed  the  dishonest  designs  of  Deane.  The  business,  in 
consequence,  soon  became  a  subject  of  general  conversation : 
the  demand  was  rejected  by  the  auditing  committee,  and  Deane 
soon  afterwards  absconded  to  England. 

For  this  piece  of  service  to  the  Americans,  Paine  was  thanked 
and  applauded  by  the  people;  but  by  this  time  a  party  had  begun 
to  form  itself,  whose  principles,  if  not  the  reverse  of  indepen- 
dence, were  the  reverse  of  republicanism.  These  men  had  long 
envied  the  popularity  of  Paine,  but  from  their  want  of  means  to 
check  or  control  it,  they  had  hitherto  remained  silent.  An 
opportunity  was  now  offered  for  venting  their  spleen.  Mr. 
Paine,  in  exposing  the  trickery  of  Deane,  had  incautiously 
mentioned  one  or  two  circumstances  that  had  come  to  his  know- 
ledge in  consequence  of  his  office;  this  was  magnified  into  a 
breach  of  confidence,  and  a  plan  was  immediately  formed  for 
depriving  him  of  his  situation ;  accordingly,  a  motion  was  made 
for  an  order  to  bring  him  before  congress.  Mr.  Paine  readily 
attended ;  and  on  being  asked  whether  the  articles  in  question 
were  written  by  him,  he  replied  that  they  were.  He  was  then 
directed  to  withdraw.  As  soon  as  he  had  left  the  house,  a 
member  arose  and  moved:  "That  Thomas  Paine  be  discharged 
from  the  office  of  secretary  to  the  committee  on  foreign  affairs;" 
but  the  motion  was  lost  upon  a  division.  Mr.  Paine  then  wrote 
to  congress,  requesting  that  he  might  be  heard  in  his  own  defence, 
and  Mr.  Lawrence  made  a  motion  for  that  purpose,  which  was 
negatived.  The  next  day  he  sent  in  his  resignation,  concluding 
with  these  words  :  "  As  I  cannot,  consistently  with  my  character 
as  a  freeman,  submit  to  be  censured  unheard;  therefore,  to 
preserve  that  character  and  maintain  that  right,  I  think  it  my 
duty  to  resign  the  office  of  secretary  to  the  committee  for  foreign 
affairs;  and  I  do  hereby  resign  the  same." 

.  This  conduct  on  the  part  of  the  congress  may,  in  some  degree, 
be  attributed  to  a  desire  to  quiet  the  fears  of  the  French  am- 
bassador, who  had  become  very  dissatisfied  in  consequence  of 
its  being  known  to  the  world  that  the  supplies  were  a  present 
from  his  master.  To  silence  his  apprehension,  and  preserve  the 
friendship  of  the  French  court,  they  treated  Paine  with  ingra- 


22  PERIOD  SECOND. 

titude.  This  they  acknowledged  at  a  future  period  by  a  grant; 
of  which  I  shall  have  occasion  to  speak  in  its  proper  place. 

Paine  was  now  deprived  of  the  means  of  obtaining  a  liveli- 
hood ;  and  being  averse  to  rendering  his  literary  labors  subser- 
vient to  his  personal  wants,  he  engaged  himself  as  clerk  to  Mr. 
Biddle,  an  attorney  at  Philadelphia. 

The  ingratitude  of  congress  produced  no  change  in  Mr. 
Paine's  patriotism.  On  every  occasion,  he  continued  to  display 
the-  same  degree  of  independence  and  resolution,  which  had 
first  animated  him  in  favor  of  the  republican  cause.  He  had 
enlisted  himself  as  a  volunteer  in  the  American  cause ;  and  he 
vindicated  her  rights  under  every  change  of  circumstance,  with 
unabated  ardor. 

In  a  communication  made  many  years  afterwards  to  Cheet- 
ham  (who  would  have  contradicted  it,  could  he  have  done  so 
without  stating  what  everyone  would  immediately  know  to  be 
false),  he  says  : — 

"I  served  in  the  army  the  whole  of  the  'time  that  tried 
men's  souls,'  from  the  beginning  to  the  end." 

Soon  after  the  declaration  of  independence,  July  4,  1776, 
congress  recommended  that  a  body  of  ten  thousand  men,  to  be 
called  the  flying  camp,  because  it  was  to  act  wherever  necessary, 
should  be  formed  from  the  militia  and  volunteers  of  Jersey, 
Pennsylvania,  and  Maryland.  I  went  with  one  division  from 
Pennsylvania,  under  General  Roberdeau.  We  were  stationed 
at  Perth  Amboy,  and  afterwards  at  Bergen;  and  when  the  time 
of  the  flying  camp  expired,  and  they  went  home,  Iwent  to  Fort 
Lee,  and  served  as  aide-de-camp  to  Greene,  who  commanded  at 
Fort  Lee,  and  was  with  him  through  the  whole  of  the  black 
times  of  that  trying  campaign. 

I  began  the  first  number  of  the  "  Crisis,"  beginning  with  the 
well-known  expression,  'These  are  the  times  that  try  men's 
souls,'  at  Newark,  upon  the  retreat  from  Fort  Lee,  and 
continued  writing  it  at  every  place  we  stopped  at,  and  had  it 
printed  at  Philadelphia,  the  19th  of  December,  six  days  before 
the  taking  the  Hessians  at  Trenton,  which,  with  the  affair  at 
Princeton,  the  week  after,  put  an  end  to  the  black  times." 

Soon  after  the  resignation  of  his  secretaryship,  he  was 
chosen  clerk  of  the  legislature  of  Pennsylvania.  This  appoint- 
ment is  a  proof  that,  though  he  had  some  enemies,  he  hail  many 
friends  ;  and  that  the  malicious  insinuations  of  the  former  had 
not  been  able  to  weaken  the  attachment  of  the  latter. 


PERIOD  SECOND.  23 

In  February,  1781,  Paine,  at  the  earnest  solicitation  of 
Colonel  Laurens,  accompanied  him  to  France,  on  a  mission 
which  the  former  had  himself  set  on  foot,  which  was,  to  ob- 
tain of  the  French  Government  a  loan  of  a  million  sterling 
annually  during  the  war.  This  mission  was  so  much  more 
successful  than  they  expected,  that  six  millions  of  livres  as  a 
present,  and  ten  millions  as  a  loan  was  the  result.  They 
sailed  from  Brest,  at  the  beginning  of  June,  and  arrived  at 
Boston  in  August,  having  under  their  charge  two  millions  and 
a  half  in  silver,  and  a  ship  and  a  brig  laden  with  clothing  and 
military  stores. 

Before  going  to  France,  as  just  narrated,  Paine  headed  a 
private  subscription  list,  with  the  sum  of  five  hundred  dollars, 
all  the  money  he  could  raise;  and  the  nobleness  of  his  conduct 
so  stimulated  the  munificence  of  others,  that  the  subscriptions 
amounted  to  the  generous  sum  of  three  hundred  thousand 
pounds. 

Soon  after  the  war  of  Independence  had  been  brought  to 
a  successful  termination,  Mr.  Paine  returned  to  Bordentown, 
in  New  Jersey,  where  he  had  a  small  property.  Washington, 
rationally  fearing  that  one  so  devoted  and  generous  might  be 
in  circumstances  not  the  most  flourishing,  wrote  to  him  the 
following  letter  : — 

ROOKY  HILL,  September  10th,  178S. 

I  have  learned,  since  I  have  been  at  this  place,  that  you  are 
at  Bordentown.  Whether  for  the  sake  of  retirement  or  econ- 
omy, I  know  not.  Be  it  for  either,  for  both,  or  whatever  it 
may,  if  you  will  come  to  this  place  and  partake  with  me,  I 
shall  be  exceedingly  happy  to  see  you  at  it. 

Your  presence  may  remind  congress  of  your  past  services 
to  this  country;  and  if  it  is  in  my  power  to  impress  them, 
command  my  best  exertions  with  freedom,  as  they  will  be 
rendered  cheerfully  by  one  who  entertains  a  lively  sense  of 
the  importance  ef  your  works,  and  who,  with  much  pleasure, 
subscribes  himself 

Your  sincere  friend, 

Cr.  WASHINGTON. 

In  1785,  congress,  on  the  report  of  a  committee  consisting 
of  Mr.  Gerry,  Mr.  Petit,  and  Mr.  King, 

Resolved,  That  the  board  of  treasury  take  order  for  paying 
to  Mr.  Thomas  Paine  the  sum  of  three  thousand  dollars. 


24  PERIOD  SECOND. 

This,  however,  was  not  a  gratuity,  although  it  took  that 
shape.  It  was  but  little  if  any  more  than  was  due  Mr.  Paine, 
in  consequence  of  the  depreciation  of  the  continental  money 
in  which  his  salary  as  secretary  of  the  committee  of  foreign 
affairs  had  been  paid. 

Mr.  Paine  had  resolved  not  to  make  any  application  to  the 
congress  on  the  score  of  his  literary  labors;  but  he  had  several 
friends  in  the  provincial  assemblies  who  were  determined  that 
his  exertions  should  not  pass  unrewarded.  Through  their 
influence,  motions  in  his  favor  were  brought  before  the  legis- 
lature of  Pennsylvania  and  the  assembly  of  New  York;  the 
former  gave  him  £500,  and  the  latter  the  confiscated  estate  of 
a  Mr.  Frederick  Devoe,  a  royalist.  This  estate,  situated  at 
New  Rochelle,  consisting  of  more  than  three  hundred  acres  of 
land  in  a  high  state  of  cultivation,  with  a  spacious  and  elegant 
stone  house,  beside  extensive  out-buildings,  was  a  valuable 
acquisition;  and  the  readiness  with  which  it  was  granted,  is  a 
proof  of  the  high  estimation  in  which  Mr.  Paine's  services 
were  held  by  one  of  the  most  opulent  and  powerful  states  in 
the  Union. 

In  1786,  he  published  at  Philadelphia,  his  "  Dissertations 
on  Government,"  "The  Affairs  of  the  Bank,"  and  "Paper- 
Money."  The  bank  alluded  to  was  the  one  which  had  been 
established  some  years  before,  under  the  name  of  the  "  Bank 
of  North  America,"  on  the  capital  of  the  three  hundred  thou- 
sand pounds,  which  resulted  from  the  subscription  which 
Paine  headed  with  five  hundred  dollars,  as  has  already  been 
stated ;  which  bank,  instead  of  being  what  banks  now  are, — 
the  stimulants  of  a  gambling  credit  system,  and  a  runious  im- 
porting system,  had  been  of  vast  use  to  the  cause  of  our 
national  independence.  Paine  advocated  a  paper  currency 
when  it  was  of  use,  instead  of  being  an  abuse ;  in  his  days  it 
helped  to  secure  national  independence,  instead  of  subjecting 
the  country,  as  it  now  does,  to  a  servitude  to  the  interests  of 
England,  which  could  she  have  foreseen,  it  is  questionable 
whether  even  British  pride  would  not  have  so  succumbed  to 
British  avarice,  that  not  a  gun  would  have  been  fired,  or  a 
sword  drawn  against  us.  England  could  have  afforded  to  pay 
us  as  many  pounds  for  subjecting  ourselves  as  we  have  done  to 
her  interests,  as  it  cost  her  pennies  to  vainly  attempt  to  pre- 
vent us  from  doing  this.  It  is  highly  worthy  of  remark,  that 


PERIOD  SECOND,  25 

Paine  opposed  giving  even  the  independence  promoting  Bank 
of  North  America,  a  perpetual  charter. 

At  this  time  Mr.  Paine  was  highly  popular,  and  enjoyed 
the  esteem  and  friendship  of  the  most  literary,  scientific,  and 
patriotic  men  of  the  age. 


PERIOD  THIfiD. 


PERIOD   THIRD. 

1787—1809. 


MB.  PAIHI  GOES  TO  EUBOPB.    His  REVOLUTIONARY  MOVEMENTS  m  ENG- 
LAND.      IS    ELECTED    A     MEMBER    OF    THE    NATIONAL    ASSEMBLY    OF 

FBANCE.    TAKES  AN  ACTIVE  PART  IN  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION.    His 
DEATH. 

THE  success  which  had  crowned  Mr.  Paine's  exertions  in 
America,  made  him  resolve  to  try  the  effects  of  his  influence 
in  the  very  citadel  of  the  foes  of  liberal  principles  in  government, 
whose  out-posts  he  had  stormed.  As  America  no  longer  needed 
his  aid,  he  resolved  to  attack  the  English  government  at  home; 
to  free  England  herself. 

Accordingly,  in  April,  1787,  he  sailed  from  the  United 
States  for  France,  and  arrived  in  Paris  after  a  short  passage. 
His  knowledge  of  mechanics  and  natural  philosophy  had  pro- 
cured him  the  honor  of  being  admitted  a  member  of  the  Ameri- 
can Philosophical  Society ;  he  was  also  admitted  Master  of  Arts 
by  the  University  of  Philadelphia.  These  honors,  though  not  of 
much  consequence  in  themselves,  were  the  means  of  introducing 
him  to  some  of  the  most  scientific  men  in  France,  and  soon  after 
his  arrival  he  exhibited  to  the  Adademy  of  Sciences,  the  model 
of  an  iron  bridge  which  had  occupied  much  of  his  leisure  time 
during  his  residence  in  America.  This  model  received  the  un- 
qualified approbation  of  the  Academy,  and  it  was  afterwards 
adopted  by  the  most  scientific  men  of  England. 

From  Paris  Mr  Paine  proceeded  to  London,  where  he  arrived 
on  the  third  of  September.  Before  the  end  of  that  month  he 
went  to  Thetford  to  see  his  mother,  who  was  now  borne  down 
by  age,  and  was,  besides,  in  very  straightened  circcmstances. 
His  father,  it  appears,  had  died  during  his  absence;  and  he 
hastened  to  the  place  of  his  birth  to  relieve  the  wants  of  his 
surviving  parent  He  led  a  recluse  sort  of  life  at  Thetford  for 
several  weeks,  being  principally  occupied  in  writing  a  pamph- 


PERIOD  THIRD.  27 

let  on  the  state  of  the  nation,  under  the  title  of  "  Prospects  on 
the  Rubicon."  This  was  published  in  London,  toward  the  end 
of  the  year  1787. 

During  the  year  1788,  Mr.  Paine  was  principolly  occupied  in 
building  his  bridge.  For  this  purpose  he  went  to  Rotherhani 
in  Yorkshire,  in  order  that  he  might  have  an  opportunity  of 
superintending  its  iron  castings. 

The  situation  of  France  had  now  become  of  great  interest  to 
all  Europe,  and  Mr.  Paine  was  in  the  confidence  of  the  chief 
actors  in  the  great  events  which  were  there  taking  place,  and  he 
hastened  again  to  Paris  to  witness  and  assist  in  the  downfall  of 
Bourbon  despotism,  to  act  his  part  in  the  great  drama  of  free- 
dom, the  scene  of  which  had  shifted  from  the  land  of  Washing- 
ton to  the  country  of  Lafayette. 

The  French  are  peculiarly  sensitive  to  the  shafts  of  ridicule ; 
and  Voltarie,*  taking  a  wise  advantage  of  this,  had  made  such 
good  use  of  his  exquisite  wit,  that  both  priestcraft  and  statecraft 
had  become  rather  absurd  than  respectable  in  the  estimation  of 
the  higher  orders  of  those  who  held  both  their  wealth  and  their 
positions  under  such  patronage. 

The  writings  of  the  Abbe  Raynal  had  imbued  the  French 
with  respect  for  the  natural  rights  of  humanity,  and  conse- 
quently with  contempt  and  abhorrence  for  the  vested  rights  of 
tyrants ;  and  the  writings  of  that  great  apostle  of  liberty,  Rous- 
seau, had  long  been  preparing  the  way,  in  France,  for  what 
those  of  Paine  had  effected  in  America;  in  fact,  Rousseau  was 
the  "author  hero"  of  the  French  Revolution;  and  it  was  more 
owing  to  his  pen,  than  to  anything  else,  that  the  views  of  the 
people  of  France  so  differed  from  those  of  their  rulers,  that, 
whilst  the  latter,  in  assisting  America  to  throw  off  the  British 
yoke,  looked  no  further  than  the  weakening  and  humiliating  of 
England,  the  former  approved  of,  and  sustained  the  measure, 
as  initiatory  to  the  destruction  of  monarchy  itself. 

The  return  from  America  of  the  troops  of  Lafayette  had 
furnished  a  vast  reinforcement  to  the  popular  cause,  and  in 
fused  its  principles  throughout  all  France.  Mr.  Paine  remarks, 
that— 

"  As  it  was  impossible  to  separate  the  military  events  which 
took  place  in  America  from  the  principles  of  the  American 

*  That  Encyclopedia  of  wit  and  wisdom,  Voltaire's  "  Philosophical  Dic- 
tionary," is  published  by  Mr.  J.  P.  Mendum,  at  the  office  of  the  "  Boston 
Investigator. " 


28  PERIOD  THIRD. 

revolution,  the  publication  of  those  events  in  France  necessarily 
connected  themselves  with  the  principles  that  produced  them. 
Many  of  the  facts  were  in  themselves  principles  ;  such  as  the 
Declaration  of  American  Independence,  and  the  treaty  of 
alliance  between  France  and  America,  which  recognized  the 
natural  rights  of  man,  and  justified  resistence  to  oppression." 

This  is  the  proper  place  to  show  that  neither  Paine,  Rousseau, 
nor  Voltaire  are  at  all  chargeable  with  the  abominations  which 
have  been  perpetrated,  both  in  America  and  France,  in  the  name 
of  liberty ;  and  that  our  'scurvy  politicians'  have  no  more  business 
to  spout  their  impudent  clap-trap  in  the  name  of  the  principles 
advocated  by  the  author  of  "  The  Rights  of  Man,"  than  Marat, 
St.  Just,  and  Robespierre,  had  to  mouth  Rousseau.  Nothing 
is  plainer,  than  that  the  two  great  moving  minds  in  the  Ameri- 
can and  French  revolutions  aimed  at  the  practical  actualization 
ofliberty. 

Had  Rousseau  awoke  from  the  dead  at  the  time  of  the 
French  Revolution, — "What!"  he  would  have  exclaimed. 
"  Do  you  take  carnage  to  be  what  I  meant  by  the  state  of 
nature?"  "Miscreants!"  Paine  would  thunder  in  the  ears  of 
our  rulers,  were  he  now  to  visit  the  land  over  which  the  star- 
spangled  banner  waves.  "  Is  elective  franchise  to  end  in 
majority -despotism  and  spoils?  Do  you  think  I  mean  caucus 
trickery,  election  frauds,  office  gambling,  corruption, — in  short 
demagogism,  when  I  s&idfree  government? 

"Are  my  teachings  to  be  estimated  from  the  stand-point 
where  'tis  difficult,  if  not  impossible  to  determine  whether  '  free 
laborers '  or  '  slaves '  have  the  most  uncomfortable  time  of  it? 
In  the  name  of  '  Common  Sense,'  I  protest  against  your  gross 
misrepresentation  of  me.  The  contemptible  knave  and  fool 
game  which  you  are  playing  in  the  name  of  liberty,  is  but  the 
back  step  of  the  forward  one  towards  freedom,  which  I  helped 
mankind  to  take. 

Call  you  your  miserable  hotch-potch  of  spent  super-naturalism 
and  worn  out  absolution,  what  I  meant  by  freedom?  You 
might  as  well  call  a,  rotting  heap  of  building  materials,  which 
some  architect,  whose  skill  was  far  in  advance  of  his  time,  had 
not  lived  long  enough  to  put  together  according  to  his  design, 
the  edifice  which  he  intended. 

"Ye  infidels,*  who   meanly  and    hypocritically   sneak   for 

*  I  wish  it  to  b«  particularly  observed,  that  I  give  the  term  "infiilels,"  a 
much  more  extended  sense  than  that  which  it  is  popularly  supposed  to  convey. 


PERIOD   THIilD.  29 

patronage  under  the  shreds  and  tatters  of  the  worn  out  cloak  of 
the  church,  or  who  quit  the  ranks  of  superstition,  only  to  waste 
your  energies  over  an  old  book  which  I  completely  emasculated 
(but  lived  to  discover  that  I  had  mistaken  a  prominent  sympton 
for  the  disease  I  sought  to  cure)  ;  or  to  dispute  and  wrangle 
over  mere  speculative  abstractions,  or  at  most,  to  eat  and 
drink  and  dance,  and  talk  in  memory  of  me,  every  twenty-ninth 
of  January,  when  it  does  not  fall  on  a  Sunday.  In  calling  on 
my  name,  and  looking  backward  in  unavailing  admiration  of 
what  I  did,  instead  of  pushing  ahead  and  carrying  on  the  work 
which  I  began,  you  confer  no  more  honor  on  me  than 
modern  Christians  do  on  their  "  Jesus."  You  are  no  more  like 
me,  than  papists  and  protestants  are  the  true  followers  of  the 
Pharisee-condemning,  Sabbath-breaking  son  of  the  world- 
famous  carpenter  of  Galillee. 

" My  religion  was  ' to  do  good*  Yours  has  thus  far  been  to 
do  nothing  or  worse  than  nothing. 

"  Why  do  you  not  organize,  and  have  your  own  schools,  in- 
stead of  allowing  your  children  to  be  supernaturalistically 
educated!  You  allow  the  reasoning  faculties  of  the  scions  of 
humanity  to  be  completely  maimed,  and  then  blame  nature 
because  they  are  '  vicious ;'  or,  like  idiots  holding  candles  for 
the  blind  to  read  by,  you  ply  them  with  reason,  when  they 
arrive  at  the  age  when  they  ought  to  be  reasonable,  but  are  con- 
firmed in  folly  instead.  Has  the  freedom  of  the  people  to  chose 
their  own  teachers  and  head  their  own  churches,  culminated  in 
schools,  the  very  hot-beds  of  superstition,  and  in  churches  more 
intimately  connected  with,  and  more  expensive  to  the  state,  sub 
rosa,  than  the  Catholic  church  openly  is,  even  in  Rome  ? 

"  Why  do  you  not  elevate  woman,  instead  of  letting  your 
daughters  grow  up  under  the  influence  of  the  priests?  Why  do 
you  so  stubbornly  cling  to  that  immaculate  abortion  ;  that  most 
pestiferous  effluvia  of  supernaturalism  ;  that  quintessence  of 
malice  ;  that  thickest  fog  that  ever  darkened  the  understanding  ; 
that  strong-hold  of  all  that  is  arbitrary;  that  refinement  of 
cruelty ;  that  last  relic  of  absolutistic  absurdity, — moralism  ? 
and  why  is  its  correlative, — opinionism  still  the  basis  of  your 
political  system  1  Why  are  you,  like  your  opponents,  still 
appealing  to  that  most  fallible  of  all  guides, — conscience?  And 
in  the  name  of  all  that  is  intelligible,  what  good  is  there  in  that 
chronic  suicide  which  you  outdo  even  supernaturalists  in  lauding 
as  virtuel  Besides,  has  '  virtue,'  notwithstanding  all  the  pains 


30  PERIOD  THIRD. 

taken  with  it,  and  all  the  hot-house  fostering  that  that  plant 
has  received,  grown  a  hair's  breadth  since  the  remotest  agesl 

"Why  has  not  how  to,  long  since  superseded  ouylit  to'l 

"  Abandon,  I  beseech  you,  that  inflicter  of  martyrdom  ;  that 
watchword  of  Robespierre,  and  of  the  most  •  relentless  tyrants 
that  ever  tortured  humanity, — principle.  Let  the  science  and 
art  of  goodness  take  its  place. 

"The  severest  and  most  persistent  scourges  of  the  human 
race  are,  and  ever  have  been,  men  and  women  of  principle. 
They  cannot  be  even  bribed  to  do  right.  Robespierre  was  par 
excellence,  '  the  incorruptible ;'  and  so  was  Marat. 

"  Principle  is  the  very  bed  of  Procrustes.  Principle  is  the 
disguise  in  which  the  'angel  of  darkness'  appears  so  like  an 
'angel  of  light,'  as  to  deceive,  thus  far,  all  but  'the  very  elect.' 
It  partially  deceived  even  me.  But  I  had  not  your  means  of 
detecting  the  cheat.  In  my  day  it  had  not  been,  as  it  recently 
has  been,  demonstrated  that  man's  will,  aided  by  the  force  of 
all  that  is  intelligible  fully  developed  and  harmoniously  and 
most  advantageously  combined,  is  the  measure  of  his  power, 
and  of  nature's  resources  ;  that  well  doing,  to  any  extent  worth 
naming,  requires  nothing  more,  and  nothing  less,  than  such 
force,  such  development,  and  such  combination;  that  to  pro- 
gress, there  is  no  obstruction,  even  to  the  unfriendliness  of 
climate,  which  is  not,  through  human  heart,  working  with,  in, 
and  through  nature,  removeable. 

"In  my  time,  it  had  not  been  shown  (as  it  recently  has  been, 
to  a  mathematical  demonstration)  that  the  only  possible  way 
to  make  people  good,  is  to  create  the  requisite  materialistic 
conditions;  and  that  therefore  the  most  stupid  of  blunders — 
the  most  infernal  of  cruelties  is  punishment. 

"  You  affect  to  love  science.  Make  it  loveable.  Raise  it  to 
the  dignity  of  the  highest  law,  or  religion;  make  it  the  basis  of 
government;  and  thus  avail  yourselves  of  its  whole  use,  instead 
of  the  little  benefit  you  derive  from  its  '  beggarly  elements.' 

"Patiently  discover,  instead  of  recklessly  and  vainly  'enact- 
ing laws;  scientifically  develop,  and  artistically  combine  the 
whole  force  of  physical  nature,  and  the  whole  power  of  man. 
Assist  nature,  whose  head  you  are,  to  create,  till  supply  is 
adequate  to  demand;  till  creation  is  complete;  till  harmony  is 
in  exact  proportion  to  present  antagonism;  till  no  obstacle 
stands  between  man  and  perfect  goodness,  perfect  freedom,  and 
perfect  and  sufficiently  lasting  happiness.  Thus,  alone,  can 


PERIOD  THIRD.  31 

you  eliminate  that  synonym  for  ignorance — mystery,  and  ita 
resulting  'vice,'  'virtue,'  moralism,  absolutism,  demagogism, 
slavery,  and  misery. 

"  If  you  love,  and  would  truly  honor  me,  ast  forward,  accord- 
ing to  the  spirit,  and  not  backward,  according  to  the  letter,  of 
what  I  taught.  Let  onward  to  perfection  be  your  motto. 

"  Your  numbers  are  sufficient,  as  you  would  see  if  you  would 
but  stand  out;  you  are  far  from  poor,  on  the  average,  and  you 
include  nearly  all  the  learned  and  scientific;  but  you  are  some- 
how or  other  so  averse  to  organizing  and  becoming  an  efficient 
body,  with  a  head,  that  like  the  mutually  suspicious  eighty- 
seven  millions  of  Indians,  to  whom  a  few  well  regulated  British 
troops  dictate  terms,  you  suffer  your  even  half  organized  foes 
to  trample  your  rights  under  foot,  when  if  you  would  organize 
on  an  intelligible,  TRULY  selfish  scientific  and  artistic  basis, 
your  own  rights,  and  those  of  all  your  fellow-men  would  be 
secured.  Down  with  that  barricade  of  hypocrisy, — principle. 
Liberty,  goodness,  in  short,  happiness,  can  be  nothing  less  than 
the  crowning  art, 

"  Instead  of  admitting,  as  you  do,  that  natnre  ought  to  have 
a  supernatural  guardian  or  helper  (inasmuch  as  you  admit  that 
she  is  incompetent  to  supply  more  than  a  tithe  of  the  satisfac- 
tion which  her  wants,  as  manifested  through  her  highest 
organism,  man  call  for),  why  do  you  not  meet  the  question,  as 
it  alone  can  be  met,  by  demonstrating  that  man  no  more  really 
wants  or  needs  absolutely  eternal  self-consciousness,  than  the 
infant  really  wants  or  needs  the  moon  for  a  bauble,  when  he 
stretches  forth  his  hand  to  grasp  it,  and  weeps  at  his  failure. 
But  that  what  man  really  does  want,  nature,  through  science, 
art,  development,  can  give  1  Can't  you  see  that  what  man  in 
reality  means  by  perfect  and  'eternal'  happiness,  is,  perfect  and 
sufficiently-lasting  happiness?  and  that  nature  must  furnish 
this,  or  prove  a  failure  which  would  amount  to  a  greater 
absurdity  than  ' supernaturalism''  itself?  Do  you  not  see  that 
for  man  to  even  desire  any  thing  really  beyond  nature,  is  to 
prove  'supernaturalism.'  Mind,  I  have  said  desire;  for  man 
cannot  conceive  of,  and  therefore  cannot  desire  the  annihila- 
tion of  duration  and  space.  He  cannot  really  wish  for  happi- 
ness without  its  conditions ;  if  it  came  merely  at  his  bidding, — 
if  he  could  believe  himself  into  Heaven,  or  vote  himself  free, 
both  Heaven  and  freedom  would  pall  on  the  appetite  as  soon 
as  tasted. 


32  PERIOD  THIRD. 

"  Had  I  livod  at  the  time  when  Humboldt  scanned  nature, 
when  Feuerbach  demonstrated  the  naturalness  of  'supernatural- 
ism,'  and  showed  the  all-importance  and  practical  signin'cancy 
of  man's  instinctively  inaugurating  his  abstract  subjectivity  of 
almighty ;  when  Comte  showed  the  connection,  and  proved  the 
unity  of  all  science;  when  Fourier  discovered  the  equitable 
relations  which  should  exist  between  labor,  capital,  and  skill, 
and  which,  sooner  or  later,  must  displace  the  present  unnatural 
and  ruinous  ones;  had  I  lived  when  it  had  been  demonstrated 
that  nature  is  all  sufficient;  that  science,  art, — development, 
well  prove  adequate  to  all  the  requirements  of  miracle;  that 
the  highest  aspirations  of  nature's  highest  organism,  man, 
indicate  the  perfection  to  which  nature  is  spontaneously  tend- 
ing, and  which  she  must  attain  to;  that  the  business  of  man  is 
to  discover  how  to  fully  gratify  all  the  passions  which  nature 
has  implanted  in  him  (instead  of  trying  to  contrive  how  to 
mortify,  repress,  and  overcome  nearly  all,  and  by  far  the  best 
of  them);  how  to  live,  till  he  has  rung,  so  to  speak,  all  the 
changes  possible  on  his  five  senses,  till  the  repetition  becomes 
irksome;  had  I  enjoyed  the  advantages  derivable  from  all  this, 
your  steam  engines,  steam  printing  presses,  sewing  machines, 
and  all  other  machines,  and  your  electric  telegraph,  even, 
should  have  had  its  match  in  social  science  and  ait;  you  should, 
by  this  time,  have  had  a  religion  self  evidently  true,  and  a 
system  of  law  necessarily  just;  and  the  whole  world  should 
have  been  far  advanced  towards  becoming  a  state  spontaneously 
free." 

Reader,  considering  how  very  far  ahead  of  his  time,  it  was 
tlie  distinguishing  characteristic  of  the  author  of  the  "  Rights 
of  Man"  and  "The  Age  of  Reason"  to  be,  is  it  too  much  to 
suppose  that,  were  he  alive  now,  he  would  talk  thus,  except 
far  more  eloquently,  beyond  all  question  ?  Would  not  he  who 
made  but  two  steps  from  the  government  of  priests,  kings  and 
lords,  to  the  people's  right  to  be  their  own  church  and  their 
own  government,  have  found  out,  before  now,  the  means  of 
escaping  from  demagogism  t  As  one  who  is  not  prepared  to 
admit  that  liberty  is  an  empty  name,  that  happiness  at  all 
answering  to  that  which  man  desires,  is  an  impractibility,  I 
respectfully  submit  that  he  would.  And  1  scorn  the  suppo- 
sition that  he  would  degrade  himself,  and  the  cause  he  espoused, 
so  far  as  to  make  the  pitiable  and  lying  excuse  which  the 
betrayers  of  mankind  offer  in  behalf  of  "free  institutions," — 


PERIOD  THIRD.  S3 

that  they  are  no  worse  than  those,  to  escape  from  which,  both 
earth  and  ocean  have  been  reddened  with  human  blood,  and 
strewn  with  the  ashes  and  the  wrecks  of  human  industry. 
Our  "free  institutions"  have  come  to  be  so  much  worse  than 
those  confessedly  despotic,  that  it  is  only  the  superior  natwral 
advantage,  which  our  country  enjoys,  that  has  thus  far  pre- 
served even  their  name. 

The  proper  or  natural  functions  of  popularism  are  but  tran- 
sitional. The  instant  it  is  undertaken  to  erect  democracy 
into  a  permanency,  it  dwindles  to  a  most  pitiable  imitation — to 
a  blundering  re-enacting,  under  false  names,  of  the  worn  out 
measures  of  the  religion  and  politics,  from  which  it  is  legiti- 
mately but  a  protest  and  a  departure.  It  thus  becomes  so 
exceedingly  corrupt  and  morbitic,  that  the  social  organism,  to 
protect  itself  from  utter  dissolution,  is  forced  to  reject  it,  and 
return  again  under  its  old  regime.  And  nothing  short  of  the 
religion  and  government  of  science  can  furnish  an  outlet  from 
this  vicious  circle. 

Mr.  Paine  again,  left  France  for  England,  in  Nov.  1790,  hav- 
ing witnessed  the  destruction  of  the  Bastile,  and  been  an  atten- 
tive observer,  if  not  an  active  adviser,  of  the  revolutionary 
proceedings  which  had  taken  place  during  the  preceding  twelve 
months. 

On  the  13th  of  March,  1791,  Mr.  Jordan,  No.  166  Fleet  street, 
published  for  him  the  first  part  of  "  The  Eights  of  Man."  This 
work  was  intended  to  arouse  the  people  of  England  to  a  sense 
of  the  defects  and  abuses  of  their  vaunted  system  of  govern- 
ment; besides  which,  it  was  a  masterly  refutation  of  the  false- 
hoods and  exaggerations  of  Edmund  Burke's  celebrated  "  Re- 
flections on  the  Revolution  in  France." 

About  the  middle  of  May,  Mr.  Paine  again  went  to  France. 
This  was  just  before  the  king  attempted  to  escape  from  his  own 
dominions.  On  the  occasion  of  the  return  of  the  fugitive  mon- 
arch, Mr.  Paine  was,  from  an  accidental  circumstance,  in  con- 
siderable danger  of  losing  his  life.  An  immense  concourse  of 
.people  had  assembled  to  witness  the  event.  Among  the  crowd 
was  Mr.  Paine.  An  officer  proclaimed  the  order  of  the  national 
assembly,  that  all  should  be  silent  and  covered,  In  an  instant 
all  except  Mr.  Paine,  put  on  their  hats.  He  had  lost  his  cock- 
ade, the  emblem  of  liberty  and  equality.  The  multitude  ob- 
serving that  he  remained  uncovered,  supposed  that  he  was  one  of 
their  enemies,  and  a  cry  instantly  arose,  "Aristocrat/ Aristocrat! 


34  PERIOD  THIRD. 

ct  la  lanterne  !  d,  la  lanterne  /"  He  was  instructed  by  those  who 
stood  near  him  to  put  on'  his  hat,  but  it  was  some  time  before 
the  matter  could  be  satisfactorily  explained  to  the  multitude. 

On  the  13th  of  July,  1791,  he  returned  to  London,  but  it 
was  not  thought  prudent  that  he  should  attend  the  public  cele- 
bration of  the  French  revolution,  which  was  to  take  place  on 
the  following  day.  He  was  however,  present  at  the  meeting 
which  was  held  at  the  Thatched  House  tavern,  on  the  twentieth 
of  August  following.  Of  the  address  and  declaration  which 
issued  from  this  meeting,  and  which  was  at  first  attributed  to 
Mr.  Horn  Tooke,  Mr.  Paine  was  the  author. 

Mr.  Paine  was  now  engaged  in  preparing  the  second  part 
of  the  "  Rights  of  Man  "  for  the  press.  In  the  mean  time  the 
ministry  had  received  information  that  the  work  would  shortly 
appear,  and  they  resolved  to  get  it  suppressed  if  possible. 
Having  ascertained  the  name  of  the  printer,  they  employed 
him  to  endeavor  to  purchase  the  copyright.  He  began  by 
offering  a  hundred  guineas,  then  five  hundred,  and  at  length 
a  thousand;  but  Mr.  Paine  told  him,  that  he  "would  never 
put  it  in  the  power  of  any  pi-inter  or  publisher  to  suppress  or 
alter  a  work  of  his." 

Finding  that  Mr.  Paine  was  not  to  be  bribed,  the  ministry 
next  attempted  to  suppress  the  work  by  means  of  prosecu- 
tions; but  even  in  this  they  succeeded  so  badly,  that  the 
second  part  of  the  "  Rights  of  Man  "  was  published  on  the 
sixteenth  of  February,  1792,  and  at  a  moderate  calculation, 
more  than  a  hundred  thousand  copies  of  the  work  were  cir- 
culated. 

In  August,  1792,  Paine  prepared  a  publication  in  defense 
of  the  "  Rights  of  man,"  and  of  his  motives  in  writing  it;  he 
entitled  it  "  An  Address  to  the  Addressers  on  the  late  Procla- 
mation." "  This,"  says  Sherwin,  "  is  one  of  the  severest  pieces 
of  satire  that  ever  issued  from  the  press." 

About  the  middle  of  September,  1792,  a  French  deputation 
announced  to  Mr.  Paine  that  he  had  been  elected  to  represent 
the  department  of  Calais  in  the  National  Convention. 

At  Dover,  whither  he  repaired,  in  order  to  embark  for 
France,  the  treatment  of  the  minions  of  British  despotism 
towards  the  hated  author  of  the  "  Rights  of  Man,"  was  dis- 
graceful and  mean  to  the  last  degree.  His  trunks  were  all 
opened,  and  the  contents  examined.  Some  of  his  papers  were 
•eized,  and  it  is  probable  f^at  the  whole  would  have  been  but 


PERIOD   THIRD.  85 

for  the  cool  and  steady  conduct  of  their  owner  and  his  attend 
ants.  When  the  custom-house  officers  had  indulged  their  petty 
malice  N  as  long  as  they  thought  proper,  Mr.  Paine  and  his 
friends  were  allowed  to  embark,  and  they  arrived  at  Calais  in 
about  three  hours.  The  English-French  representative,  how- 
ever, very  narrowly  escaped  the  vigilance  of  the  despots  he 
had  provoked,  for  it  appears  that  an  order  to  detain  him 
was  received  at  Dover,  in  about  twenty  minutes  after  his  em- 
barkation. 

A  salute  from  the  battery  announced  to  the  people  of  Calais 
the  arrival  of  the  distinguished  foreigner,  on  whom  they  had  . 
bestowed  an  honor  unprecedented. 

His  reception,  both  military  and  civic,  was  what  a  mon- 
arch might  well  have  been  proud  of.  "  The  garrison  at 
Calais  were  under  arms  to  receive  this  friend  of  liberty ;  the 
tri-colored  cockade  was  presented  to  him  by  the  mayor,  and 
the  handsomest  woman  in  the  town  was  selected  to  place  it  on 
his  hat."* 

This  ceremony  being  over,  he  walked  to  Deissein's,  in  the 
Rue  de  VEgalite  (formerly  Rue  de  Roi),  the  men,  women,  and 
children,  crowding  around  him,  and  shouting  "  Vive  Thomas 
Paine  ! "  He  was  then  conducted  to  the  town-hall,  and  there 
presented  to  the  municipality,  who  with  the  greatest  affection 
embraced  their  representative.  The  mayor  addressed  him  in 
a  short  speech  (which  was  interpreted  to  him  by  his  friend  M. 
Audibert),  to  which  Mr.  Paine,  laying  his  hand  on  his  heart, 
replied  that  his  life  should  be  devoted  to  their  service. 

At  the  inn  he  was  waited  upon  by  the  authorities,  and  by 
the  president  of  the  Constitutional  society,  who  desired  that 
he  would  attend  their  meeting  that  night:  he  cheerfully  com- 
plied with  the  request,  and  the  whole  town  would  have  been 
there,  had  there  been  room :  the  hall  of  the  Minimes  was  so 
crowded  that  it  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  they  made  way 
for  Mr.  Paine  to  the  side  of  the  president.  Over  the  chair  in 
which  he  sat  were  placed  the  bust  of  Mirabeau,  and  the  colors 

*  The  least  unfair  view  of  Thomas  Paine's  character  and  merits  which 
has  hitherto  been  found  in  the  historical  writings  of  any  American  author 
except  Randall,  Savage,  and  Vale  (who  quotes  copiously  from  Sherwin), 
is  taken  by  an  ecclesiastic,  Francis  L.  Hawkes,  D.D.,  LL.D.  His  "Cy- 
clopedia of  Biography,"  from  which  I  have  quoted  above,  is  published  by 
the  Messrs.  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  who  also  publish  Buckle's  "History  of 
Civilization  in  England,"  a  work  which  would  have  fully  satisfied  the  authox 
of  the  "Age  of  Reason "  himeelf,  had  he  lived  to  read  it. 


36  PERIOD  THIRD. 

of  France,  England  and  America  united.  A  speaker  from  the 
tribune,  formally  announced  .his  election,  amid  the  plaudits  of 
the  people;  for  some  minutes  after  nothing  was  heard  but 
"  Vive  la  Nation  !  Vive  Thomas  Paine,"  in  voices  both  male 
and  female. 

On  the  following  day  an  extra  meeting  was  appointed  to  be 
held  in  the  church  in  honor  of  the  new  deputy  to  the  conven- 
tion, the  Minimes  having  been  found  quite  suffocating  from 
the  vast  concourse  of  people  which  had  assembled  on  the  pre- 
vious occasion.  At  the  theatre,  on  the  evening  after  his  arri- 
val, a  box  was  specially  reserved  for  the  author  of  the  "Rights 
of  Man,"  the  object  of  the  English  proclamation. 

Such  was  the  enthusiasm  of  the  people  for  the  "author- 
hero"  of  the  American  Revolution,  that  Mr.  Paine  was  also 
elected  deputy  for  Abbeville,  Beauvais,  and  Versailles ;  but 
the  people  of  Calais  having  been  beforehand  in  their  choice,  he 
preferred  being  their  representative. 

After  remaining  with  his  constituents  a  short  time,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  Paris,  in  order  to  take  his  seat  as  a  member  of  the 
National  Assembly.  On  the  road  thither  he  met  with  similar 
honors  to  those  which  he  had  received  at  Calais.  As  soon  as 
he  arrived  at  Paris,  he  addressed  a  letter  to  his  fellow-citizens, 
the  people  of  France,  thanking  them  for  both  adopting  and 
electing  him  as  their  deputy  to  the  convention. 

Mr.  Paine  was  shortly  after  his  arrival  in  Paris,  appointed 
a  member  of  the  committee  for  framing  the  new  constitution. 
While  he  was  performing  the  important  duties  of  his  station, 
the  ministry  of  England  were  using  every  effort  to  counteract 
the  (to  them)  dangerous  principles  which  he  had  disseminated. 
For  this  purpose  they  tiled  informations  against  the  different 
individuals  who  had  sold  the  "Rights  of  Man,"  and  also 
a-^ainst  the  author.  The  trial  of  Mr.  Paine  came  on  at  Guild- 
hall, on  the  18th  of  December,  before  that  most  cruel  and 
vindictive  of  creatures  that  ever  disgraced  the  bench  of  even 
a  British  court  of  justice,  Lord  Kenyon.  As  the  judge  was 
pensioned,  and  the  jury  packed,  a  verdict  of  guilty  followed  as 
a  matter  of  course. 

Mr.  Erskine's  plea  for  the  defence  was,  as  Mr.  Paine  observed, 
on  reading  a  report  of  the  farce  which  had  been  enacted  under 
the  name  of  a  trial,  "a  good  speech  for  himself,  but  a  very 
poor  defence  of  the  '  Rights  of  Man.'  "* 

*  "  K.ine'i  work,"[the  "Rights  of  Man,"] says SchJos^er.  in  hi*  " 


PERIOD   THIRD.  37 

Seldom  has  the  cowardice  which  a  sense  of  guilt  excites, 
reached  such  a  panic  as  that  into  which  the  government  of 
England  was  thrown  by  Thomas  Paine.  In  France  he  was 
safe  from  their  malice,  but  no  less  than  ten  individuals  were 
prosecuted  for  selling  his  works,  and  by  corrupted  judges  and 
packed  juries,  nine  of  the  number  were  convicted,  and  severely 
fined  or  imprisoned,  or  both. 

"  On  the  first  appearance  of  the  '  Rights  of  Man,' "  says 
Sherwin,  "  the  ministry  saw  that  it  inculcated  truths  which  they 
could  not  controvert;  that  it  contained  plans,  which,  if  adopted, 
would  benefit  at  least  nine-tenths  of  the  community,  and  that 
its  principles  were  the  reverse  of  the  existing  system  of  gov- 
ernment; they  therefore  judged  that  the  most  politic  method 
would  be  to  treat  the  work  with  contempt,  to  represent  it 
as  a  foolish  and  insignificant  performance,  unworthy  of  their 
notice,  and  iindeserving  the  attention  of  the  public.  But 
they  soon  found  the  inefficiency  of  this  mode  of  treatment; 
the  more  contempt  they  showed,  the  more  the  book  was  read, 
and  approved  of.  Finding,  therefore,  that  their  declarations 
of  contempt  were  as  unsuccessful  as  their  project  of  buying 
up  the  work,  they  determined  upon  prosecuting  the  author 
and  publisher.  Mr.  Paine  was  not  at  all  surprised  at  this 
resolution  of  the  ministry;  indeed,  he  had  anticipated  it  on 
the  publication  of  the  second  part  of  the  work,  and  to  remove 
any  doubt  as  to  his  intention  of  defending  the  principles  which 
he  had  so  effectually  inculcated,  he  addressed  the  following 
letter  to  his  publisher : — 

February  16th,  1792. 

SIR, — Should  any  person,  under  the  sanction  of  any  kind  of 
authority,  inquire  of  you  respecting  the  author  and  publisher 
of  the  "  Rights  of  Man,"  you  will  please  to  mention  me  as  the 
author  and  publisher  of  that  work,  and  show  to  such  person 
this  letter.  I  will,  as  soon  as  I  am  made  acquainted  with  it, 
appear  and  answer  for  the  work  personally. 

Your  humble  servant, 

THOMAS  PAINS. 

MB.  JORDAN,  No.  166  Fleet  Street. 

"  The  first  intimation  which  Mr.  Paine  received,"  continue* 

of  the  Eighteenth  Century,"  "made  as  great  and  as  lasting  an  impressio* 
on  certain  classes  in  England  as  iiurke's  did  upon  the  great  majority  of  th* 
higher  and  middle  ranks." 


38  PERIOD  THIRD. 

Slierwin,  "of  the  intentions  of  the  ministry,  was  on  the  14th  of 
May,  1792.  He  was  then  at  Bromly,  in  Kent,  upon  which  he 
came  immediately  to  town;  on  his  arrival  he  found  that  M  . 
Jordan  had  that  evening  been  served  with  a  summons  to  appear 
at  the  court  of  King's  Bench  on  the  Monday  following,  but  for 
what  purpose  was  not  stated.  Conceiving  it  to  be  on  account 
of  the  work,  he  appointed  a  meeting  with  Mr.  Jordan,  on  the 
next  morning,  when  he  provided  a  solicitor,  and  took  the  ex- 
pense of  the  defense  on  himself.  But  Mr.  Jordan,  it  appears, 
had  too  much  regard  for  his  person  to  hazard  its  safety  on  the 
event  of  a  prosecution,  and  he  compromised  the  affair  with  a 
solicitor  of  the  treasury,  by  agreeing  to  appear  in  court  and 
plead  guilty.  This  arrangement  answered  the  purpose  of  both 
parties — That  of  Jordan  in  liberating  himself  from  the  risk  of  a 
prosecution,  and  that  of  the  ministry,  since  his  plea  of  guilty 
amounted  in  some  measure  to  a  condemnation  of  the  work." 

The  following  letter  from  Mr.  Paine  to  the  Attorney-General, 
Sir  Archibald  Macdonald,  shows,  that  but  for  the  circumstance 
of  his  being  called  to  France,  as  just  related,  it  was  his  intention 
to  have  formally  defended  himself  in  the  prosecution  against 
him  as  author  of  the  *'  Rights  of  Man." 

SIR  :  Though  I  have  some  reason  for  believing  that  you  were 
not  the  original  promoter  or  encoui-ager  of  the  prosecution  com- 
menced against  the  work  entitled  "  Rights  of  Man,"  either  as 
that  prosecution  is  intended  to  affect  the  author,  the  publisher, 
or  the  public;  yet  .as  you  appear  the  official  person  therein,  I 
address  this  letter  to  you,  not  as  Sir  Archibald  Macdonald,  but 
as  Attorney-General. 

You  began  by  a  prosecution  against  the  publisher,  Jordan, 
and  the  reason  assigned  by  Mr.  Secretary  Dundas,  in  the  House 
of  Commons,  in  the  debate  on  the  proclamation,  May  25,  for 
taking  that  measure,  was,  he  said,  because  Mr.  Paine  could  not 
be  found,  or  words  to  that  effect.  Mr.  Paine,  sir,  so  far  from 
secreting  himself,  never  went  a  step  out  of  his  way,  nor  in  the 
least  instance  varied  from  his  usual  conduct,  to  avoid  any 
measure  you  might  choose  to  adopt  with  respect  to  him.  It 
is  on  the  purity  of  his  heart,  and  the  universal  utility  of  the 
principles  and  plans  which  his  writings  contain,  that  he  rests 
the  issue ;  and  he  will  not  dishonor  it  by  any  kind  of  subter- 
fuge. The  apartments  which  he  occupied  at  the  time  of  writing 
the  work  last  winter,  he  has  continued  to  occupy  to  the  present 


PERIOD  THIRD.  39 

liour,  and  the  solicitors  of  the  prosecution  know  where  to  find 
him;  of  which  there  is  a  proof  in  their  own  office  as  far  back  as 
the  21st  of  May,  and  also  in  the  office  of  my  own  attorney. 

But  admitting  for  the  sake  of  the  case,  that  the  reason  for 
proceeding  against  the  publisher  was,  as  Mr.  Dundas  stated, 
that  Mr.  Paine  could  not  be  found,  that  reason  can  now  exist 
no  longer. 

The  instant  that  I  was  informed  that  an  information  was  pre- 
paring to  be  filed  against  me,  as  the  author  of,  I  believe,  one  of 
the  most  useful  books  ever  offered  to  mankind,  I  directed  my 
attorney  to  put  in  an  appearance;  and  as  I  shall  meet  the  prose- 
cution fully  and  fairly,  and  with  a  good  and  upright  conscience, 
I  have  a  right  to  expect  that  no  act  of  littleness  will  be  made 
use  of  on  the  part  of  the  prosecution  towards  influencing  the 
future  issue  with  respect  to  the  author.  This  expression  may, 
perhaps,  appear  obscure  to  you,  but  I  am  in  the  possession  of 
some  matters  which  serve  to  show  that  the  action  against  the 
publisher  is  not  intended  to  be  a  real  action.  If,  therefore, 
any  persons  concerned  in  the  prosecution  have  found  their  cause 
so  weak  as  to  make  it  appear  convenient  to  them  to  enter  into 
a  negotiation  with  the  publisher,  whether  for  the  purpose  of 
his  submitting  to  a  verdict,  and  to  make  use  of  the  verdict  so 
obtained  as  a  circumstance,  by  way  of  precedent,  on  a  future 
trial  against  myself;  or  for  any  other  purpose  not  fully  made 
known  to  me ;  if,  I  say,  I  have  cause  to  suspect  this  to  be  the 
•case,  I  shall  most  certainly  withdraw  the  defence  I  should 
otherwise  have  made,  or  promoted,  on  his  (the  publisher's) 
behalf,  and  leave  the  negotiations  to  themselves,  and  shall 
reserve  the  whole  of  the  defence  for  the  real  trial. 

But,  sir,  for  the  purpose  of  conducting  this  matter  with  at 
least  that  appearance  of  fairness  and  openness  that  shall  justify 
itself  before  the  public  whose  cause  it  really  is  (for  it  is  the  right 
of  public  discussion  and  investigation  that  is  questioned),  I  have 
to  propose  to  you  to  cease  the  prosecution  against  the  publisher ; 
and  as  the  reason  or  pretext  can  no  longer  exist  for  continuing 
it  against  him  because  Mr.  Paine  could  not  be  found,  that  you 
would  direct  the  whole  process  against  me,  with  whom  the  pro- 
secuting party  will  not  find  it  possible  to  enter  into  any  private 
negotiation. 

I  will  do  the  cause  full  justice,  as  well  for  the  sake  of  the 
nation,  as  for  my  own  reputation. 

Another  reason  for  discontinuing  the  process  against  the  pub- 


40  PERIOD  THIRD. 

lisher  is,  because  it  can  amount  to  nothing.  First,  because  a 
jury  in  London  cannot  decide  upon  the  fact  of  publishing 
beyond  the  limits  of  the  jurisdiction  of  London,  and  therefore 
the  work  may  be  republished  over  and  over  again  in  every 
county  in  the  nation,  and  every  case  must  have  a  separate  pro- 
cess; and  by  the  time  that  three  or  four  hundred  prosecutions 
have  been  had,  the  eyes  of  the  nation  -will  then  be  fully  open  to 
see  that  the  work  in  question  contains  a  plan  the  best  calculated 
to  root  out  all  the  abuses  of  government,  and  to  lessen  the  taxes 
of  the  nation  upwards  of  six  millions  annually. 

Secondly,  because  though  the  gentlemen  of  London  may  be 
very  expert  in  understanding  their  particular  professions  and 
occupations,  and  how  to  make  business  contracts  with  govern- 
ment beneficial  to  themselves  as  individuals,  the  rest  of  the 
nation  may  not  be  disposed  to  consider  them  sufficiently  quali- 
fied nor  authorized  to  determine  for  the  whole  nation  on  plans 
of  reform,  and  on  systems  and  principles  of  government.  This 
would  be  in  effect  to  erect  a  jury  into  a  national  convention, 
instead  of  electing  a  convention,  and  to  lay  a  precedent  for  the 
probable  tyranny  of  juries,  under  the  pretence  of  supporting 
their  rights. 

That  the  possibility  always  exists  of  packing  juries  will  not 
be  denied ;  and,  therefore,  in  all  cases  where  government  is  the 
prosecutor,  more  especially  in  those  where  the  right  of  public 
discussion  and  investigation  of  principles  and  systems  of  govern- 
ment is  attempted  to  be  suppressed  by  a  verdict,  or  in  those 
where  the  object  of  the  work  that  is  prosecuted  is  the  reform 
of  abuse  and  the  abolition  of  sinecure  places  and  pensions,  in 
all  these  cases  the  verdict  of  a  jury  will  itself  become  a  subject 
of  discussion ;  and  therefore,  it  furnishes  an  additional  reason 
for  discontinuing  the  prosecution  against  the  publisher,  more 
especially  as  it  is  not  a  secret  that  there  has  been  a  negotiation 
with  him  for  secret  purposes,  and  for  proceeding  against  me 
only.  I  shall  make  a  much  stronger  defence  than  what  I 
believe  the  treasury  solicitor's  agreement  with  him  will  permit 
him  to  do. 

I  believe  that  Mr.  Burke,  finding  himself  defeated,  and  not 
being  able  to  make  any  answer  to  the  "  Rights  of  Man,"  has 
been  one  of  the  promoters  of  this  prosecution;  and  I  shall  return 
the  compliment  to  him  by  showing,  in  a  f utiire  publication,  that 
he  has  been  a  masked  pensioner  at  fifteen  hundred  pounds  per 
annum  for  about  ten  years. 


PERIOD  THIRD  41 

Thus  it  is  that  the  public  money  is  wasted,  and  tho  dread  of 
public  investigation  is  produced. 
I  am,  sir, 

Your  obedient  humble  servant, 

THOMAS  PAINB. 

SIB  A.  MACDONALD,  Attorney-General. 

On  the  25th  of  July,  1792,  the  Duke  of  Brunswick  issued 
his  sanguinary  manifesto,  in  which  he  declared  that  the  allies 
were  resolved  to  inflict  the  most  dreadful  punishments  on  the 
national  assembly,  for  their  treatment  of  the  royal  family;  he 
even  went  so  far  as  to  threaten  to  give  up  Paris  to  military 
execution.  This  made  the  people  furious,  and  drove  them  to 
deeds  of  desperation.  A  party  was  consequently  formed  in 
the  convention  for  putting  the  king  to  death.  Mr.  Paine 
labored  hard  to  prevent  matters  from  being  carried  to  this  ex- 
tremity, but  though  his  efforts  produced  a  few  converts  to  his 
doctrine,  the  majority  of  his  colleagues  were  too  enraged  at  the 
duplicity  of  the  king,  and  the  detestable  conduct  of  the  foreign 
monarchs,  with  whom  he  was  leagued,  to  be  satisfied  with  any- 
thing short  of  the  most  dreadful  vengeance.  The  conduct  of 
Louis  was  too  reprehensible  to  be  passed  over  unnoticed,  and 
Mr.  Paine  therefore  voted  that  he  should  be  tried ;  but  when 
the  question  whether  he  should  be  put  to  death,  was  brought 
forward,  he  opposed  it  by  every  argument  in  his  power.  His 
exertions  were,  however,  ineffectual,  and  sentence  of  death  was 
passed,  though  by  a  very  small  majority.  Mr.  Paine  lost  no 
opportunity  of  protesting  against  this  extreme  measure  ;  when 
the  question,  whether  the  sentence  should  be  carried  into  exe- 
cution, was  discussed,  he  combated  the  proposition  with  great 
energy.  As  he  was  not  well  versed  in  the  French  language, 
he  wrote  or  spoke  in  English,  which  one  of  the  secretaries 
translated. 

It  is  evident  that  his  reasoning  was  thought  very  persuasive, 
since  those  who  had  heard  the  speeches  of  Bnzot,  Condorcet, 
and  Brissot,  on  the  same  side  of  the  question,  without  interrup- 
tion, broke  out  in  murmurs,  while  Paine's  opinion  was  being 
translated ;  and  Marat,  at  length,  losing  all  patience,  exclaimed 
that  Paine  was  a  quaker,  whose  mind  was  so  contracted  by 
the  narrow  principles  of  his  religion,  that  he  was  incapable 
of  the  liberality  that  was  requisite  for  condemning  men  to 
death.  This  shrewd  argument  not  being  thought  convincing, 


42  PERIOD   THIRD, 

the  secretary  continued  to  read,  that  'the  execution  of  the 
sentence,  instead  of  an  act  of  justice,  would  appear  to  all  the 
world,  and  particularly  to  their  allies,  the  American  States,  as 
an  act  of  vengeance,  and  that  if  he  were  sufficiently  master  of 
the  French  language,  he  would,  in  the  name  of  his  brethren  of, 
America,  present  a  petition  at  their  bar  against  the  execution 
of  the  sentence.'  Marat  and  his  associates  said  that  these  could 
not  possibly  be  the  sentiments  of  Thomas  Paine,  and  that  the 
assembly  was  imposed  upon  by  a  false  translation.  On  com- 
paring it  with  the  original,  however,  it  was  found  to  be  correct. 

The  only  practical  effect  of  Paine's  leniency  to  the  king  was 
that  of  rendering  himself  an  object  of  hatred  among  the  most 
violent  and  now  dominant  actors  in  the  revolution.  They 
found  that  he  could  not  be  induced  to  participate  in  their  acts 
of  cruelty;  they  dreaded  the  opposition  which  he  might  make 
to  their  sanguinary  deeds,  and  they  therefore  marked  him  out 
as  a  victim  to  be  sacrificed  the  first  opportunity. 

The  humanity  of  Mr.  Paine  was,  indeed,  one  of  the  most 
prominent  features  in  his  character,  and  he  exercised  it,  whether 
on  public  or  private  occasions.  Of  his  strict  attention  to  his 
public  duty  in  this  respect,  even  at  the  hazard  of  his  own  safety, 
we  have  just  seen  a  convincing  proof  in  his  opposition  to  the 
execution  of  the  king;  and  of  his  humane  and  charitable  dis- 
position in  private  matters,  the  following  circumstances  are 
sufficient  to  warrant  the  most  unqualified  conclusion. 

Mr.  Paine  was  dining  one  day  with  about  twenty  friends,  at 
a  coffee-house  in  the  Palais  Egalite,  now  the  Palais  Royal,  when, 
unfortunately  for  the  harmony  of  the  company,  a  captain  in  the 
English  service  contrived  to  introduce  himself.  The  military 
gentleman  was  a  strenuous  supporter  of  the  English  system  of 
government,  and  of  course,  a  decided  enemy  of  the  French 
Revolution.  After  the  cloth  was  removed,  the  conversation 
turned  on  the  state  of  affairs  in  England,  and  the  means  which 
had  been  adopted  by  the  government  to  check  political  know- 
ledge. Mr.  Paine  gave  his  opinion  very  freely,  and  much  to 
the  satisfaction  of  every  one  present,  except  Captain  Grimstone, 
who  finding  himself  cornered,  answered  his  arguments  by  call- 
ing him  a  traitor  to  his  country,  and  applying  to  him  other 
terms  equally  opprobrious.  Mr.  Paine  treated  his  abuse  with 
much  good  humor,  which  rendered  tl  e  captain  so  furious  that 
he  stnick  him  a  violent  blow.  But  the  cowardice  of  this  be- 
havior on  tne  part  ol  a  stout  young  man,  toward  a  person  up- 


PERIOD   THIRD.  43 

ward  of  sixty  years  of  age,  was  not  the  worst  part  of  the 
.affair.  The  captain  had  struck  a  citizen-deputy  of  the  conven- 
tion, which  was  an  insult  to  the  whole  nation ;  the  offender  was 
hurried  into  custody,  and  it  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty 
that  Mr.  Paine  prevented  him  from  being  massacred  on- the 
spot. 

The  convention  had  decreed  the  punishment  of  death  to  any 
one  who  should  be  convicted  of  striking  a  deputy :  Mr.  Paine 
was  therefore  placed  in  a  very  unpleasant  situation.  He  im- 
mediately applied  to  Barrere,  president  of  the  committee  of 
public  safety,  for  a  passport  for  his  imprudent  adversary.  His 
request  being,  after  much  hesitation,  complied  with,  he  still 
had  considerable  difficulty  in  procuring  his  liberation;  but  even 
this  was  not  all  of  which  the  nobility  of  his  nature  was  capable. 
The  captain  was  without  friends,  and  penniless;  and  Mr. 
Paine  generously  supplied  him  with  money  to  defray  his  travel- 
ling expenses,  home  to  England. 

A  Major  Munroe,  who  lodged  at  the  same  hotel  with  Mr. 
Paine,  and  whose  business  it  was  to  inform  Pitt  and  the  min- 
istry of  England,  of  what  was  going  on  in  France,  remaining 
after  the  war  was  declared,  was  thrown  into  prison.  He 
applied  to  Mr.  Paine,  who,  by  great  exertion,  procured  his  re- 
lease. 

The  reign  of  terror  had  now  fairly  begun,  and  Mr.  Paine's 
humane  disposition  conspicuously  marked  him  for  one  of  its 
victims. 

In  alluding  to  the  dreadful  proceedings  which  were  making 
such  havoc  among  the  best  patriots  of  France,  he  says: — 

"As  for  myself,  I  used  to  find  some  relief  by  walking  alone 
in  the  garden  after  it  was  dark,  and  cursing  with  hearty  good 
will  the  authors  of  that  terrible  system  that  had  turned  the 
character  of  the  revolution  I  had  been  proud  to  defend. 

•'  I  went  but  little  to  the  convention,  and  then  only  to  make 
my  appearance;  because  I  found  it  impossible  for  me  to  join  in 
i  heir  tremendous  decrees,  and  useless  and  dangerous  to  oppose 
them.  My  having  voted  and  spoken  extensively,  more  so  than 
any  other  member,  against  the  execution  of  the  king,  had 
already  fixed  a  mark  upon  me :  neither  dared  any  of  my  associates 
in  the  convention  to  translate,  and  speak  in  French  for  me 
anything  I  might  have  dared  to  write.  Pen  and  ink  were  then 
of  no  use  to  me.  No  good  could  be  done  by  writing,  and  ™ 
^printer  dared  to  print;  and  whatever  I  might  have  written  tor 


44  PERIOD  THIRD. 

my  private  amusement,  as  anecdotes  of  the  times,  would  have 
been  continually  exposed  to  be  examined,  and  tortured  into  any 
meaning  that  the  rage  of  party  might  fix  upon  it;  and  as  to 
softer  subjects,  my  heart  was  in  distress  at  the  fate  of  my 
friends,  and  my  harp  was  hung  upon  the  weeping  willows." 

But  the  gentle,  conciliating,  and  open  manner  of  Mr.  Paine 
rendered  it  impossible  to  impeach  his  political  conduct,  and  this 
was  the  reason  why  he  remained  so  long  at  liberty.  The  first 
attempt  that  was  made  against  him,  was  by  means  of  an  act  of  the 
convention,  which  decreed  that  all  persons  residing  in  France, 
who  were  born  in  England,  should  be  imprisoned ;  but  as  Mr. 
Paine  was  a  member  of  the  convention,  and  had  been  adopted 
a  "  citizen  of  France,"  the  decree  did  not  extend  to  him.  A 
motion  was  afterward  made  by  Bourdon  de  1'Oise,  for  expelling' 
all  foreigners  from  the  convention.  It  was  evident  from  the 
speech  of  the  mover,  that  Mr.  Paine  was  the  principal  object 
aimed  at,  and  as  soon  as  the  expulsion  was  effected,  an  applica- 
tion was  made  to  the  two  committees  of  public  safety,  of  which 
Robespierre  was  the  dictator,  and  he  was  immediately  arrested, 
under  the  former  decree  for  imprisoning  persons  born  in  Eng- 
land. On  his  way  to  the  Luxembourg,  he  contrived  to  call 
upon  his  intimate  friend  and  associate,  Joel  Barlow,  with  whom 
he  left  the  manuscript  of  the  first  part  of  the  "Age  of  Reason." 
This  work  he  intended  to  be  the  last  of  his  life,  but  the  proceed- 
ings in  France,  during  the  year  1793,  induced  him  to  dslay  it 
no  longer. 

At  the  time  when  the  "Age  of  Reason"  was  written,  Mr. 
Paine  was  in  daily  expectation  of  being  sent  to  the  guillotine,- 
where  many  of  his  friends  had  already  perished;  the  doctrines, 
therefore,  which  it  inculcates,  must  be  regarded  as  the  senti- 
ments of  a  dying  man.  This  is  a  conclusive  proof  that  the 
work  was  not  the  result  of  a  wish  to  deceive.  Mr.  Paine  had 
measured  his  time  with  such  precision,  that  he  had  not  finished 
the  book  more  than  six  hours,  before  he  was  arrested  and  con- 
veyed to  the  Luxembourg. 

Had  such  a  singularly  favorable  coincidence  as  this  happened; 
in  the  transactions  of  a  Christian  theological  writer,  it  would 
undoubtedly  have  been  ascribed  to  the  interpostion  of  Divine 
Providence. 

After  Mr.  Paine  had  remained  in  prison  about  three  weeks,, 
the  Americans  residing  in  Paris  went  in  a  body  to  the  conven- 
tion and  demanded  the  liberation  of  their  fellow-citizen.  The 


PERIOD   THIRD.  45 

following  is  a  copy  of  the  address  presented  bv  them  to  the 
president  of  the  convention ;  an  address  which  sufficiently  shows 
the  high  estimation  in  which  Mr.  Paine  was  at  this  time  held 
by  the  citizens  of  the  United  States: — 

"Citizens!  The  French  nation  had  invited  the  most  illustri- 
ous of  all  foreign  nations  to  the  honor  of  representing  her. 

"  Thomas  Paine,  the  apostle  of  liberty  in  America,  a  profound 
and  valuable  philosopher,  a  virtuous  and  esteemed  citizen,  came 
to  France  and  took  a  seat  among  you.  Particular  circumstances 
rendered  necessary  the  decree  to  put  under  arrest  all  the  English 
residing  in  France. 

"Citizens!  Representatives!  We  oome  to  demand  of  you 
Thomas  Paine,  in  t,he  name  of  the  friends  of  liberty,  and  in  the 
name  of  the  Americans,  your  brothers  and  allies;  was  there 
anything  more  wanted  to  obtain  our  demand  we  would  tell  you. 
Do  not  give  to  the  leagued  despots  the  pleasure  of  seeing  Paine 
in  irons.  We  inform  you  that  the  seals  put  upon  the  papers 
of  Thomas  Paine  have  been  taken  off,  that  the  committee  of 
general  safety  examined  them,  and  far  from  finding  among  them 
any  dangerous  propositions,  they  only  found  the  love  of  liberty 
which  characterized  him  all  his  lifetime,  that  eloquence  of 
nature  and  philosophy  which  made  him  the  friend  of  mankind, 
and  those  principles  of  public  morality  which  merited  the  hat- 
red of  kings,  and  the  affection  of  his  fellow  citizens. 

"  In  short,  citizens  !  if  you  permit  us  to  restore  Thomas  Paine 
to  the  embraces  of  his  fellow-citizens,  we  offer  to  pledge  our- 
selves as  securities  for  his  conduct  during  the  short  time  he 
shall  remain  in  France." 

The  Americans  who  presented  the  foregoing  address,  received 
for  answer,  that  "  Mr.  Paine  was  born  in  England,"  and  it  was 
also  hinted  to  them  that  their  attempt  to  reclaim  him  as  a  citi- 
zen of  the  United  States,  could  not  be  listened  to,  in  conse- 
quence of  its  not  being  authorized  by  the  American  government. 
I  wish  the  reader  to  particularly  note  what  I  have  here 
italicised,  as  I  shall  hereafter  refer  to  it  in  a  very  important 
connection. 

Soon  after  this,  all  communication  between  the  prisoners 
and  their  friends  was  cut  off  by  an  order  of  the  police ;  and  the 
only  hope  that  during  six  months,  remained  to  Mr.  Paine,  was, 
that  the  American  minister  would  be  authorized  to  inquire  into 
the  cause  of  his  imprisonment.  "  But  even  this  hope,"  Mr. 
Paine  observes,  "  in  the  state  in  which  matters  were  daxiy  arriv- 


46  PERIOD   THIRD. 

ing,  was  too  remote  to  have  any  consolatory  effect ;  and  I  con- 
tented myself  with  the  thought  that  I  might  be  remembered 
when  it  would  be  too  late." 

During  this  long  imprisonment  he  amused  himself  by  writing 
a  variety  of  pieces,  both,  in  poetry  and  prose,  some  of  which 
have  since  been  published.  He  also  wrote  a  considerable  por- 
tion of  the  second  part  of  the  "  Age  of  Reason." 

When  he  had  been  in  prison  about  eight  months,  he  was 
seized  with  a  violent  fever,  which  nearly  deprived  him  of  life, 
and  from  the  effects  of  which  he  never  perfectly  recovered. 
This  fever,  which  rendered  him  insensible  for  more  than  a 
month,  was,  however,  the  means  of  pieserving  his  life;  for  had 
he  remained  in  health,  he  would  no  doubt  have  beeu  dragged 
before  the  tribunal,  and  sent  to  the  guillotine. 

After  the  fall  of  Robespierre,  Mr.  Paine,  seeing  several  of 
his  fellow-prisoners  set  at  liberty,  began  to  conceive  hopes  of 
his  own  release,  and  addressed  a  memorial  to  Mr.  Monroe,  the 
American  minister,  on  the  subject. 

The  following  is  a  copy  of  Mr.  Monroe's  letter  to  Mr.  Paine 
on  this  occasion: — 

PARIS,  September  18,  1794. 

DEAR  SIR, — I  was  favored,  soon  after  my  arrival  here,  with 
several  letters  from  you,  and  more  latterly  with  one  in  the 
character  of  a  memorial  upon  the  subject  of  your  confinement : 
and  should  have  answered  them  at  the  times  they  were  respec- 
tively written,  had  I  not  concluded  you  would  have  calculated 
with  certainty  upon  the  deep  interest  I  take  in  your  welfare, 
and  the  pleasure  with  which  I  shall  embrace  every  opportunity 
in  my  power  to  serve  you.  I  should  still  pursue  the  same 
course,  and  for  reasons  which  must  obviously  occur,  if  I  did  not 
find  that  you  are  disquieted  with  apprehensions  upon  interest- 
ing points,  and  which  justice  to  you  and  our  country  equally 
forbid  you  should  entertain.  You  mention  that  you  have  been 
informed  you  are  not  considered  as  an  American  citizen  by  the 
Americans,  and  that  you  have  likewise  heard  that  I  had  no  in- 
structions respecting  you  by  the  government.  I  doubt  not  the 
person  who  gave  you  the  information  meant  well,  but  I  suspect 
he  did  not  even  convey  accurately  his  own  ideas  on  the  first 
point:  for  I  presume  the  most  he  could  say  is,  that  you  had 
likewise  become  a  French  citizen,  and  which  by  no  means  de- 
prives you  of  being  an  American  one.  Even  this,  however, 


PERIOD   THIRD.  47 

may  be  doubted,  I  mean  the  acquisition  of  citizenship  in 
France,  and  I  confess  you  have  said  much  to  show  that  it 
has  not  been  made.  I  really  suspect  that  this  was  all  that  the, 
gentleman  who  wrote  to  you,  and  those  Americans  he  heard 
speak  upon  the  subject,  meant.  It  becomes  my  duty,  however, 
to  declare  to  you,  that  I  consider  you  as  an  American  citizen, 
and  that  you  are  considered  universally  in  that  character  by 
the  people  of  America.  As  such  you  are  entitled  to  my  atten- 
tion; and  so  far  as  it  can  be  given,  consistently  with  those 
obligations  which  are  mutual  between  every  government  and 
even  transient  passengers,  you  shall  receive  it. 

The  congress  have  never  decided  upon  the  subject  of  citizen- 
ship, in  a  manner  to  regard  the  present  case.  By  being  with 
us  through  the  revolution,  you  are  of  our  country  as  absolutely 
as  if  you  had  been  born  there,  and  you  are  no  more  of  England 
than  every  native  American  is.  This  is  the  true  doctrine  in  the 
present  case,  so  far  as  it  becomes  complicated  with  any  other 
consideration.  I  have  mentioned  it  to  make  you  easy  upon  the 
only  point  which  could  give  you  any  disquietude. 

It  is  necessary  for  me  to  tell  you  how  much  all  your  country- 
men— I  speak  of  the  great  mass  of  the  people — are  interested 
in  your  welfare.  They  have  not  forgotten  the  history  of  their 
own  revolution,  and  the  difficult  scenes  through  which  they 
passed;  nor  do  they  review  its  several  stages  without  reviving 
in  their  bosoms  .a  due  sensibility  of  the  merits  of  those  who 
served  them  in  that  great  and  arduous  conflict.  The  crime  of 
ingratitude  has  not  yet  stained,  and  I  trust  never  will  stain,, 
our  national  character.  You  are  considered  by  them,  as  not 
only  having  rendered  important  services  in  our  own  revolution, 
but  as  being,  on  a  more  extensive  scale,  the  friend  of  human 
rights  and  a  distinguished  and  able  advocate  in  favor  of  public 
liberty.  To  the  welfare  of  Thomas  Paine  the  Americans  are 
riot,  nor  can  they  be,  indifferent. 

Of  the  sense  which  the  president  has  always  entertained  of 
your  merits,  and  of  his  friendly  disposition  towards  you,  you 
are  too  well  assured  to  require  any  declaration  of  it  from  me. 
That  I  forward  his  wishes  in  seeking  your  safety  is  what  I  well 
know:  and  this  will  form  an  additional  obligation  on  me  to 
perform  what  I  should  otherwise  consider  as  a  duty. 

You  are  in  my  opinion,  at  present,  menaced  by  no  kind  of 
danger.  To  liberate  you  will  be  an  object  of  my  endeavors,  and 
as  soon  as  possible.  But  yv  —  Mst.,  until  that  event  shall  W 


48  PERIOD  THIRD. 

accomplished,  bear  your  situation  with  patience  and  fortitude; 
you  will  likewise  have  the  justice  to  recollect  that  I  am  placed 
here  upon  a  difficult  theatre,  many  important  object^to  attend 
to,  and  with  few  to  consult.  It  becomes  me  in  pursu!T  of  those, 
so  to  regulate  my  conduct  with  respect  to  each,  as  to  the  man- 
ner and  the  time,  as  will,  in  my  judgment,  be  best  calculated  to 
accomplish  the  whole. 

With  great  esteem  and  respect  consider  me  personally  your 
friend. 

JAMES  MONROE. 

Mr.  Paine  was  released  from  prison  on  the  4th  November, 
1794,  having  been  in  confinement  for  eleven  months. 

After  his  liberation,  he  was  kindly  invited  to  the  house  of 
Mr.  Monroe,  where  he  remained  for  about  eighteen  months. 
The  following  extract  from  one  of  his  letters,  written  after  his 
return  to  America,  is  a  highly  interesting  description  of  his 
situation  while  in  prison,  and  of  another  narrow  escape  which 
•he  had  in  addition  to  the  one  already  noticed. 

'  I  was  one  of  the  nine  members  that  composed  the  first  com- 
mittee of  constitution.  Six  of  them  have  been  destroyed. 
-Syeyes  and  myself  have  survived.  He  by  bending  with  the 
times,  and  I  by  not  bending.  The  other  survivor  joined 
Robespierre,  and  signed  with  him  the  warrant  of  my  arresta- 
tion.  After  the  fall  of  Robespierre,  he  was  seized  and  im- 
prisoned in  his  turn,  and  sentenced  to  transportation.  He  has 
since  apologized  to  me  for  having  signed  the  warrant,  by  say- 
ing, he  felt  himself  in  danger  and  was  obliged  to  do  it. 

Herault  Sechelles,  an  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  and  a 
good  patriot,  was  my  suppliant  as  member  of  the  committee  of 
constitution;  that  is,  he  was  to  supply  my  place,  if  I  had  not 
accepted  or  had  resigned,  being  next  in  number  of  votes  to  me. 
He  was  imprisoned  in  the  Luxembourg  with  me,  was  taken  to 
the  tribunal  and  the  guillotine,  and  I,  his  principal,  was  left. 

There  were  but  two  foreigners  in  the  convention,  Anacharsis 
Cloots*  and  myself.  We  were  both  put  out  of  the  convention 

*  J.  B.  DeCloots,  a  Prussian  Baron,  known  since  the  revolution  by  the 
niune  of  Aracharsis  Cloots,  was  born  at  Cleves,  on  the  24th  of  June,  1755, 
aad  became  the  possessor  of  a  considerable  fortune. 

In  September,  1792,  he  was  deputed  from  the  Oise  to  the  Convention. 

In  the  same  year  he  published  a  work  entitled  "  The  Universal  Republic, 
wherein  lie  laid  it  down  as  a  p  inciple  "that  the  people  were  the  sovereign  of 
the  world— nay,  that  it  was  God"— "that  fools  alone  believed  in  a  Supreme 


PERIOD   THIRD.  49 

by  the  same  vote,  arrested  by  the  same  order,  and  carried  to 
prison  together  the  same  night.  He  -was  taken  to  the  guillo- 
tine, and  I  was  again  left.  Joel  Barlow  was  with  us  when  we 
went  to  prison. 

Joseph  Lebon,  one  of  the  vilest  characters  that  ever  existed, 
and  who  made  the  streets  of  Arras  run  with  blood,  was  my 
suppliant  as  member  of  the  convention  for  the  department  of 
the  Pais  de  Calais.  When  I  was  put  out  of  the  convention  he 
came  and  took  my  place.  When  I  was  liberated  from  prison, 
and  voted  again  into  the  convention,  he  was  sent  to  the  same 
prison  and  took  my  place  there,  and  he  went  to  the  guillotine 
instead  of  me.  He  supplied  my  place  all  the  way  through. 

One  hundred  and  sixty-eight  persons  were  taken  out  of  the 
Luxembourg  in  one  night,  and  a  hundred  and  sixty  of  them 
guillotined  the  next  day,  of  which  I  know  I  was  to  have  been 
one;  and  the  manner  in  which  I  escaped  that  fate  is  curious, 
and  has  all  the  appearance  of  accident. 

The  room  in  which  I  was  lodged  was  on  the  ground  floor, 
and  one  of  a  long  range  of  rooms  under  a  gallery,  and  the  door 
of  it  opened  outward  and  flat  against  the  wall ;  so  that  when  it 
was  open  the  inside  of  the  door  appeared  outward,  and  the 
contrary  when  it  was  shut.  I  had  three  comrades,  fellow- 
prisoners  with  me,  Joseph  Vanhuile,  of  Bruges,  since  president 
of  the  municipality  of  that  town,  Michael  Robins,  and  Bastini, 
of  Louvain. 

When  persons  by  scores  and  hundreds  were  to  be  taken  out 
of  prison  for  the  guillotine,  it  was  always  done  in  the  night, 
and  those  who  performed  that  office  had  a  private  mark  or 
signal  by  which  they  knew  what  rooms  to  go  to,  and  what 
number  to  take.  We,  as  I  have  said,  were  four,  and  the  door 
of  our  room  was  marked  unobserved  by  us,  with  that  number 
in  chalk ;  but  it  happened,  if  happening  is  a  proper  word,  that 
the  mark  was  put  on  when  the  door  was  open  and  flat  against 
the  wall,  and  thereby  came  on  the  inside  when  we  shut  it  at 

Being,"  &c.  He  soon  afterwards  fell  under  the  suspicions  of  Robespierre, 
was  arrested  as  a  Hebertist,  and  condemned  to  death  on  the  24th  of  March, 
1794.  He  died  with  great  firmness,  and  on  his  way  to  execution  lectured 
Hebert  on  materialism,  "to  prevent  him,"  as  he  said,  "from  yielding  to  re- 
ligious feelings  in  his  last  moments."  He  even  asked  to  be  executed  after 
all  his  accomplices,  in  order  that  he  might  have  time  "to  establish  certain 
principles  during  the  fall  of  their  heads." — Biographe  Moderne. 

See,  also,  for  a  fuller  account  of  Baron  De  Cloota,  Thier's  "History  of 
the  French  Revolution." 


50  PERIOD  THIRD. 

night,  and  the  destroying  angel  passsed  by  it.  A  few  days 
after  this  Robespierre  fell,  and  the  American  ambassador 
arrived  and  reclaimed  me  and  invited  me  to  his  house. 

During  the  whole  of  my  imprisonment,  prior  to  the  fall  of 
Robespierre,  there  was  no  time  when  I  could  think  my  life 
worth  twenty-four  hours,  and  my  mind  was  made  up  to  meet 
its  fate.  The  Americans  in  Paris  went  in  a  body  to  the  con- 
vention to  reclaim  me,  but  without  success.  There  was  no 
party  among  them  with  respect  to  me.  My  only  hope  then 
rested  on  the  government  of  America  that  it  would  remember 
me.  But  the  icy  heart  of  ingratitude,  in  whatever  man  it  may 
be  placed,  has  neither  feeling  nor  sense  of  honor.  The  letter 
of  Mr.  Jefferson  has  served  to  wipe  away  the  reproach,  and 
done  justice  to  the  mass  of  the  people  of  America." 

Soon  after  Mr.  Paine's  release,  the  convention,  by  a  unani- 
mous vote,  reinstated  him  in  the  seat  he  had  formerly  occupied. 
Mr.  Paine  did  not  refuse,  being  resolved  to  show  that  he  was 
not  to  be  terrified,  and  that  his  principles  were  neither  to  be 
perverted  by  disgust  nor  weakened  by  misfortune. 

His  bodily  health  was  very  much  impaired  by  his  long  con- 
finement, and  in  September  following  he  was  taken  dangerously 
ilL  He  states  that  he  had  felt  the  approach  of  his  disorder  for 
some  time,  which  occasioned  him  to  hasten  to  a  conclusion  of 
the  second  part  of  the  "Age  of  Reason."  This  work  was  pub- 
lished at  Paris,  early  in  1795,  and  was  very  shortly  afterward 
reprinted  both  in  England  and  the  United  States. 

The  "Age  of  Reason"  called  forth  a  great  many  replies,  but 
the  only  one  whose  fame  has  outlived  its  author,  is  the  Bishop 
of  Llandaff' s  "Apology  for  the  Bible."  Even  this  is  in  defiance 
of  the  plainest  rules  of  reason  and  logic,  and  would  have  shared 
the  fate  of  its  companions  in  the  same  cause,  if  it  had  been 
written  by  an  ordinary  person. 

The  advocates  of  the  Christian  faith  were  themselves  so  con- 
scious of  the  imperfections  of  their  system,  and  placed  so  little 
reliance  on  the  Bishop's  arguments,  that  they  commenced  a 
prosecution  against  Mr.  Williams,  the  publisher  of  the  "Age 
of  Reason."  They  retained  Mr.  Erskine  on  the  part  of  the 
crown,  who  made  every  effort  to  procure  a  verdict.  Mr.  Kyd 
made  an  ingenious  and  able  reply,  in  behalf  of  the  defendant, 
but  the  jury,  being  special,  readily  found  him  guilty,  June  4, 
1797.  Mr.  Paine  addressed  a  letter  to  Mr.  Erskine  on  the 
proceedings  of  this  trial,  in  which  he  ridiculed  the  absurdity  of 


PERIOD  THJED.  51 

discussing  theological  subjects  before  such  men  as  special  juries 
are  generally  composed  of,  and  cited  fresh  evidence  in  support 
of  his  former  arguments  against  the  truth  of  the  Bible. 

But,  although  the  anti-biblical  works  of  Mr.  Paine  were  well 
able  to  withstand  the  Bishop  of  LlandafPs  attacks,  and  have 
unquestionably  made  a  greater  number  of  mere  unbelievers  than 
have  those  of  any  other  writer,  they  strongly  remind  those  who 
comprehend  the  all-important  materialistic  significancy  which 
underlies  "  supernaturalism,"  of  the  suggestions  which  their 
author  so  sensibly  threw  out,  in  his  letter  to  Mr.  Erskine, 
with  respect  to  the  abilities  of  juries  to  deal  with  theological 
matters. 

Paine  himself  took  far  less  pride  in  his  Theological  writings 
than  in  any  of  his  others.  This  is  too  observable  to  need  to  be 
pointed  out  in  detail.  He  had  comparatively  such  small  ex- 
pectations with  respect  to  the  good  which  he  believed  he  had 
the  talents  to  perform  by  meddling  with  "  supernaturalism," 
that  he  postponed  the  execution  of  that  part  of  his  life's  mis- 
sion to  the  latter  end  of  his  career;  and  it  is  worthy  of  note, 
that  in  his  will,  he  requested  that  it  should  be  engraved  on  his 
tomb-stome,  not  that  he  was  the  author  of  the  "The  Age  of 
Reason,"  or  of  the  "Examination  of  the  Prophecies;"  but  of 
"Common  Sense." 

In  the  perfected,  or  even  half  regenerate  future,  the  author 
of  " the  world  is  my  country ;  to  do  good  my  religion,"  though 
he  had  never  written  "  Common  Sense,"  "  The  Crisis,"  or 
"  Rights  of  Man;" — nay,  though  he  had  never  written  another 
line,  will  stand  higher  than  will  the  ablest  mere  exposer  and 
denouncer  of  error  and  delusion,  that  ever  handled  a  pen. 

There  is,  it  must  be  confessed,  in  Mr.  Paine's  treatment  of 
the  great  question  involved  in  anthropomorphism,  or  "the- 
ology," nothing  of  the  profundity  of  Feuerbach,  or  of  the 
thoroughness,  and  searching  and  learned  inquiry  concerning  the 
mythical  substructure  of  Christianity,  which  so  eminently  dis- 
tinguishes Strauss;  and  there  is  but  little  of  the  careful  research 
of  Volney,  Dupuis  and  Robert  Taylor,  in  either  the  "  Age  of 
Reason"  or  the  "Examination  of  The  Prophecies."  Their 
author  is  altogether  too  deficient  in  the  bland  and  winning  per- 
suasiveness of  Greg,  and  has  not  an  overstock  of  the  candor, 
and  patient  criticism  of  Macnaught. 

For  proof  of  this,  compare  Paine's  theological  masterpieces, 
just  named,  with  Strauss's  "  Critical  Examination  of  the  Life 


52  PERIOD  THIRD. 

of  Jesus,"  Volney's  "  Ruins  of  Empires,"  and  "  New  Re- 
searches on  Ancient  History,"  Dupuis's  "Origine  de  tous  les 
Cultes,"*  Taylor's  "  Diegesis,"  "Astronomical-Theological  Ser- 
mons," and  "  Devil's  Pulpit,"  Greg's  "Creed  of  Christendom; 
Its  Foundations  and  superstructure,"  Macnau£ht  on  "  The 
Doctrine  of  Inspiration,"  and  that  natural  history  of  "  super- 
aaturalism," — Feuerbach's  •'  Essence  of  Christianity." 

There  is  nothing  like  constructive  revolution  in  Mr.  Paine's 
attacks  on  tho  ecclesiastical  hierarchy  which  has  been,  notwith- 
standing its  faults,  and  is  now,  and  for  some  time  past,  abomin- 
-able  abuses,  the  nurse  of  civilization — the  initiator  of  human 
progress. 

But  there  is,  in  the  effects  of  his  attacks  on  venerable  abuses, 
that  which  is  fast  necessitating  constructive  revolution. 

Still,  it  is  to  be  regretted  that  so  many  of  those  whom  Mr. 
Paine's  caustic  argument  put  in  more  zealous  than  formidable 
battle  array  against  priestcraft,  run  away  with  the  idea,  so 
unjust  and  humiliating  to  human  nature,  that  the  whole  gospel 
system  was,  from  the  beginning,  but  a  nefarious  scheme  of 
priests  and  kings,  whereby  to  destroy  liberty  ;  that  the  Church 
has  always  been  but  a  hypocritical  and  tyrannical  organization. 
For  in  consequence  of  these  views,  they  think  that  they  have 
found  out  all  that  need  be  known  with  respect  to  the  great 
question  of  man's  instinctive  faith ;  and  vainly  imagine,  that 
through  the  power  of  reason  alone,  all  the  temples  of  superstition 
can  be  demolished,  or  shaved  down  to  common  school-houses  ; 
and  think  that  this  will  make  the  world  about  as  good  as  it  is 
capable  of  becoming. 

The  plain  truth  is,  that  Mr.  Paine's  theological  views  are  as 
superficial  as  his  religious  conceptions  are  profound.  [It  will 
be  recollected  that  "to  do  go'd,''  was  Mr.  Paine's  religion.] 
His  belief  in  a  supernatural  "  God,"  in  "  happiness  after  death, 
and  in  "  some  punishment  for  the  wicked,"  though  immeasur- 
ably less  atrocious  than  the  Judaistic  and  Paganistic  Christian- 
ism  which  he  com  batted,  are  not  a  whit  more  intelligible ;  and 
had  "  The  Age  of  Reason  "  been  written  by  some  sharp-witted 
magazine  critic,  instead  of  by  the  author  of  "The  Crisis," 
"  Common  Sense,"  and  "  Rights  of  Man  ;" — or  by  some  obscure 
individual,  instead  of  by  the  companion  of,  and  co-worker  with, 

•  Published  by  Mr.  Gilbert  Vale. 

The  other  works  here  referred  to  and  also  "The  Age  of  Reason,"  and 
"  Examination  of  The  Prophecies,"  ar«  published  by  C.  Blanchard. 


PERIOD   THillD.  53 

Washington,  Jefferson,  Franklin,  Adams,  and  Lafayette,  its 
notoriety  never  would  have  reached  the  height,  to  which  it  im- 
mediately arose,  and  which,  o\ving  to  clerical  persecution,  and 
to  the  abominable  inj  ustice  and  ingratitude  with  which  Paine  has 
been  treated,  it  will  no  doubt  gain  upon  for  some  time  to  come. 

But  we  must,  in  full  justice  to  Thomas  Paine,  take  into 
account  the  fact,  that  his  theology  is  susceptible  of  a  very 
liberal  interpretation.  I,  too,  materialist  though  I  am*  believe 
in  a  God;  a  God  as  infinite  as  is  all  of  which  we  can  conceive; 
ay,  and  as  real;  a  God  as  almighty  as  is  materiality;  which  is 
at  once  both  agent  and  act,  and  out  cf  whose  presence  we  can- 
not go  even  in  thought,  will  prove  to  be,  through  that  only  intel- 
ligiMe  miracle, — development. 

I  believe,  furthermore,  in  the  punishment  of  the  wicked;  and 
that,  too,  after  deatli.  Nay,  I  know  that  the  punishment  of  all 
sin  is  inevitable.  Is  not  that  monster  of  iniquity,  society, 
though  dead  and  all  but  rotten  in  "  trespasses  and  sins,"  under- 
going the  very  torments  of  the  damned  1 

I  hope  for,  nay,  I  know  that  I  shall  have,  happiness:  after 
death; — that  every  particle  of  me  will,  through  chemical  change, 
and  the  refinements  which  nature  is  with  rapidly  increasing 
speed,  elaborating,  go  to  form  'material  beings  as  much  happier 
than  any  which  now  exist,  as  "  glorified  saints  and  angels  "  are 
imagined  to  be. 

But  Mr  Paine  has  won  such  laurels  through  his  political 
writings,  that  he  can  richly  afford  to  yield  the  palm  with  respect 
to  theology  ;  not  that  he  has  not,  though  negatively,  done  good 
service,  even  in  this  field.  His  theological  writings  have  cleared 
the  way  for  the  practical  and  positive  in  social  affairs,  by  show- 
ing that  reason,  or  speculativeness,  though  of  importance  in 
starting  the  march  of  human  progress,  is  utterly  inefficient  in 
the  all  important  respects  of  the  motive  and  the  creative  power, 
necessary  to  speed  that  progress  to  its  goal. 

The  "  Age  of  Reason  "  negatively  prepared  the  way  for  the 
introduction  of  science  and  art  into  social  architecture ;  for  the 
inaugration  of  the  knowable,  the  practical,  the  humane,  the 

*  Of  all  the  Deistical  works  that  I  have  examined,  none  appear  to  me  to 
be  less  inconsistent  than  the  one  by  Henri  D:«dier,  avocat,  publisher]  nt 
Geneva,  in  1851).  His  remarks  on  the  cle-gy  's  great  lever,  education,  ou^ht 
to  be  read  by  every  reformer.  The  work  is  entitled— "  Conciliation  Ra- 
tionnelle  du  Droit  et  du  Devoir."  It  appears  to  me  that  M.  Disdier  has 
omitted  no  argiiment  that  can  be  adduced  to  siipport  the  proposition  that 
there  exists  a  "  Supernatural  God,"  or  "  DIeu  Personnel." 


54  PERIOD  THIRD. 

efficient,  in  place  of  the  mysterious,  the  speculative,  the  vindic- 
tive, the  provisional,  and  otherwise  abortive. 

I  know  that  these  views  will  be  somewhat  distasteful  to  many 
of  Mr.  Paine's  admirer's;  but  I  have  undertaken  to  give  an  im- 
partial history,  and  therefore  cannot  let  my  own  admiration  or 
that  of  others  for  the  great  man  I  am  writing  about,  blind  me 
to  the  great  truth,  that,  till  the  perfection  point  be  gained, 
means,  even  those  as  powerful  as  Mr.  Paine  used,  must,  as  fast 
as  they  exhaust  their  efficacy,  be  thrust  aside  for  those  of  greater 
and  greater  potency. 

Opinionism  has  long  since  fulfilled  its  function  in  the  social 
organism,  and  therefore  cannot  too  soon  be  rejected,  along  with 
its  correlative,  moralism,  and  that  now  main  dependence  of  vice, 
— virtue.  Principle  has  become  an  excrescence,  and  should  be 
immediately  expelled  for  enlightened  selfishness.  Principle  is 
the  barricade  behind  which  hypocrisy  hides.  It  encumbers  the 
path  through  which  actual  progress  ought  to  have  a  free  passage. 

But  to  return  to  the  thread  of  this  history : — 

In  April,  1795,  a  committee  was  appointed  to  form  another 
new  constitution  (the  former  one  having  been  abolished),  and 
the  report  of  this  committee  was  brought  forward  on  the  23rd 
of  June  following,  by  Boissy  d' Anglais. 

In  1795,  Mi\  Paine  wrote  a  speech  in  opposition  to  several  of 
the  articles  of  the  new  constitution  which  had  been  presented 
for  adoption,  which  was  translated  and  read  to  the  convention 
by  Citizen  Lanthera,  on  the  seventh  of  July.  He  particularly 
contended  against  the  unjust  distinction  that  was  attempted  to 
be  made  between  direct  and  indirect  taxes.  Whatever  weight 
his  objections  ought  to  have  carried,  they  were  not  listened  to 
by  the  convention,  and  the  constitution  of  Boissy  d' Anglais 
was  adopted.  By  this  decree  the  convention  was  formally  dis- 
solved ;  and  as  Mr.  Paine  was  not  afterward  re-elected,  it  also 
terminated  his  public  functions  in  France. 

The  reign  of  terror*  having  somewhat  subsided,  Mr.  Paine 

*  Let  me  not  be  misunderstood,  in  speaking  as  I  have,  and  shall,  of  dema- 
gogues, priests,  and  "  oppressors  "  generally.  I  by  no  means  approve  of  the 
avalanche  of  blame  in  which  Robespierre  has  been  overwhelmed.  He  and 
his  colleagues  were  but  the  instruments  of  an  infuriated  populace  which  an 
unfortunate  train  of  circumstances  had  let  loose  upon  those  whom  equally 
unfortunate  causes  had  made  their  oppressors. 

It  is  highly  worthy  of  attention,  that  all  the  blood  shed  during  the  long 
"  infidel "  ' '  reign  of  terror,"  amounted  to  but  little  more  than  half  what  had 
flown  in  a  single  day  (St.  Bartholomew's),  under  the  reign  of  supernatural- 
istic  terror.  The  whole  number  guillotined  by  order  of  the  Revolutionary 


PERIOD  THIRD.  55 

resumed  his  pen.     About  the  time  when  he  brought  out  the 
second  part  of  the  "Age  of  Reason,"  he  published  several  pam- 
phlets on  subjects  less   likely  to  inflame  the  passions  of  the 
bigoted  and  ignorant ;  the  principal  of  these  are  his  "  Disserta- 
tion on  first  Principles  of  Government,"  "  Agrarian  Justice 
opposed  to  Agrarian  Law,"  and  the  "  Decline  and  Fall  of  the 
English  System  of  Finance."     The  first  of  these  is  a  continua- 
tion of  the  arguments  advanced  in  the  "  Rights  of  Man;"  the 
second  is  a  plan  for  creating  in  every  country  a  national  fund 
"  to  pay  to  every  person  when  arrived  at  the  age  of  twenty -one  A 
years,  the  sum  of  fifteen  pounds  sterling,  to  enable  him  or  her  to    ! 
begin  the  world ;  and  also  ten  pounds  sterling,  per  annum,  during    ' 
life,  to  every  person  now  living  of  the  age  of  fifty  year?,  and  to    I 
all  others,  when  they  shall  arrive  at  that  age,  to  enable  them 
to  live  without  wretchedness,  in  old  age,  and  to  go  decently 
out  of  the  world." 

In  1796,  he  published  at  Paris  a  "  Letter  to  General  Wash- 
ington." The  principal  subject  of  this  letter  was  the  treaty 
which  had  recently  been  concluded  between  the  United  States 
and  Great  Britain.  From  the  articles  of  the  treaty,  Mr.  Paine 
contends,  that  those  who  concluded  it  had  compromised  the 
honor  of  Ameri-*i,  and  the  safety  of  her  commerce,  from  a  dis- 
position to  Gw+ffti  to  the  British  ministry.  The  cold  neglect  of 
Washington*  *rward  Mr.  Paine  during  his  imprisonment,  forms 
likewise  &  inurnment  subject  of  the  letter,' and  but  for  this  cir- 
cumstauv"'-.,  it  is  probable  that  it  would  never  have  appeared. 
Notwithstanding  the  high  opinion  which  Washington  professed 
to  entertain  of  his  services  in  behalf  of  American  independence, 
he  abandoned  him  in  a  few  years  afterward  to  the  mercy  of 
Robespierre,  and  during  his  imprisonment  of  eleven  months  he 
never  made  an  effort  to  release  him.  This  was  not  the  treat- 
ment which  the  author  of  "  The  Crisis  "  deserved  at  the  hands 
of  Washington,  either  as  a  private  individual,  or  as  president  of 

tribunal  was  18,603,  viz:— Nobles,  1,278.  Noble  women,  750.  Wives  of 
laborers  and  artisans,  1,467.  Religeuses,  350.  Priests,  1,135.  Common 
persons,  not  noble,  13,623. 

.  The  lowest  estimate  of  the  number  of  victims  of  the  St.  Bartholomew 
massacre,  is  25,000;  but  there  is  every  reason  for  supposing  that  the  number 
was  not  less  than  30,000. 

In  six  weeks  time,  the  supernaturalistically  misguided  Duke  a,  in- 

stigated the  murder,  for  conscience  sake,  of  18,000  people  in  the  king- 

dom of  the  Netherlands. 

Is  it  not  time  that  the  murderous  system  of  blame  and  punishment,  to- 
gether with  their  correlate,  principle,  was  superseded  * 


56  PERIOD  THIRD. 

the  United  States.  Exclusive  of  Mr.  Paine's  being  a  citizen  of 
the  United  States,  and  consequently  entit.ed  to  the  protection 
of  its  government,  he  had  rendered  her  services  which  none  but 
the  ungrateful  could  forget;  he  had  therefore  no  reason  to 
expect  that  her  chief  magistrate  would  abandon  him  in  the  hour 
of  peril.  However  deserving  of  our  admiration  some  parts  of 
General  Washington's  conduct  towards  Mr.  Paine  may  be,  his 
behaviour  in  this  instance  certainly  reflects  no  honor  upon  his 
character;  and  we  are  utterly  at  a  loss  for  an  excuse  for  it,  on 
recollecting  that  when  the  American  residents  of  Paris  de- 
manded Paine's  release,  the  answer  of  the  convention  mainly 
was,  that  the  demand  could  not  be  listened  to  "in  consequence 
of  its  not  being  authorized  by  the  American  government" 

Mr.  Paine  regarded  the  United  States  as  his  home;  and 
although  his  spirit  of  universal  philanthrophy,  his  republican 
principles,  and  his  resolution  in  attacking  fraud  in  politics  and 
superstition  in  religion,  rendered  him  rather, a  citizen  of  the 
world  than  of  any  particular  country,  he  had  domestic  feelings 
and  pivotal  attachments.  During  his  residence  in  Europe,  he 
always  declared  his  intention  of  returning  to  America ;  the  fol- 
lowing extract  from  a  letter  of  his  to  a  lady  at  New  York  will 
show  the  affectionate  regard  which  he  cherished  for  the  country 
whose  affairs  were  the  means  of  first  launching  him  into  public 
life: — 

"  You  touch  me  on  a  very  tender  point  when  you  say,  that 
my  friends  on  your  side  of  the  water  cannot  be  reconciled  to  the 
idea  of  my  abandoning  America  even  for  my  native  England. 
They  are  right.  I  had  rather  see  my  horse,  Button,  eating  the 
grass  of  Bordertown,  or  Morrissania,  than  see  all  the  pomp  and 
show  of  Europe. 

' "  A  thousand  years  hence,  for  I  must  indulge  a  few  thoughts, 
perhaps  in  less,  America  may  be  what  England  now  is.  The 
innocence  of  her  character,  that  won  the  hearts  of  all  nations  in 
her  favor,  may  sound  like  a  romance,  and  her  inimitable  virtue 
as  if  it  had  never  been.  The  ruins  of  that  liberty,  which  thou- 
sands bled  to  obtain,  may  just  furnish  materials  for  a  village 
tale,  or  extort  a  sigh  from  rustic  sensibility;  while  the  fashion- 
able of  that  day,  enveloped  in  dissipation,  shall  deride  the  prin- 
ciple and  deny  the  fact. 

"When  we  contemplate  the  fall  of  empires,  and  the  extinction 
of  the  nations  of  the  ancient  world,  we  see  but  little  more  to 
excit  our  regret  than  the  mouldering  ruins  of  pompous  palaces, 


PERIOD  THIRD.  57 

magnificent  monuments,  lofty  pyramids,  and  walls  and  towers 
of  the  most  costly  workmanship :  but  when  the  empire  of 
America  shall  fall,  the  subject  for  contemplative  sorrow  will  be 
infinitely  greater  than  crumbling  brass  or  marble  can  inspire. 
It  will  not  then  be  said,  Here  stood  a  temple  of  vast  antiquity, 
here  rose  a  Babel  of  invisible  height,  or  there  a  palace  of  sump- 
tuous extravagance;  but  here!  ah!  painful  thought!  the  noblest 
work  of  human  wisdom,  the  greatest  scene  of  human  glory,  the 
fair  cause  of  freedom,  rose  and  fell!  Head  this,  then  ask  if  1 
forgot  America." 

In  1797,  a  society  was  formed  in  Paris,  under  the  title  of 
"Theophilanthropists."  Of  this  society,  Mr.  Paine,  was  one  of 
the  principal  founders.  More  of  this  anon. 

This  year  Mr.  Paine  published  a  "Letter  to  the  People  of 
France;  on  the  Events  of  the  eighteenth  Fructidor." 

About  the  middle  of  the  same  year  he  also  wrote  a  letter  to 
Camille  Jordan,  one  of  the  council  of  five  hundred,  respecting 
his  report  on  the  priests,  public  worship,  and  bells.  "It  is 
want  of  feeling,"  says  he,  "to  talk  of  priests  and  hells,  while  so 
many  infants  are  perishing  in  the  hospitals,  and  aged  and  infirm 
poor  in  the  streets  from  the  want  of  necessaries  The  abundance 
that  France  produces  is  sufficient  for  every  want,  if  rightly  ap- 
plied ;  but  priests  and  bells,  like  articles  of  luxury,  ought  to  be 
the  least  articles  of  consideration." 

The  publication  of  his  deistical  opinions  lost  Mr.  Paine  a 
great  number  of  his  friends,  and,  it  is  possible,  that  this  might 
be  one  of  the  causes  of  General  Washington's  indifference.  The 
clear,  open,  and  bold  manner  in  which  he  had  exposed  the 
fallacy  of  long  established  opinions,  called  forth  the  indignation 
of  the  whole  order  of  priesthood  both  in  England  and  America, 
and  there  was  scarcely  a  house  of  devotion  in  either  country, 
which  did  not  ring  with  pious  execrations  against  the  author 
of  the  "Age  of  Reason,"  The  apostles  of  superstitioji  witnessed 
with  amazement  and  terror  the  immense  circulation  of  the  work, 
and  trembled  at  the  possibility  that  men  might  come  to  think 
for  themselves.* 

*  The  late  Mr.  George  H.  Evans  (one  of  the  first  movers  of  the  land  reform 
question)  was  the  first  collector  and  publisher  of  Paine's  Works  in  thia 
country ;  and  the  late  Frances  Wright  d'Arusmont  rendered,  and  Mrs.  E. 
L.  Rose  is  now  rendering,  most  efficient  aid  in  disseminating  such  views  of 
these  works  as  the  popular  mind  is  capable  of  taking. 

The  constructive  revolutionist  must  admire  the  stand  she  has  BO  bravely 


58  PERIOD  THIRD. 

On  leaving  th«  house  of  Mr.  Monroe,  Paine  boarded  in  the 
family  of  Nicholas  Bonneville,  a  gentleman  in  good  circum- 
stances, and  editor  of  a  political  paper,  the  "  Bouche  de  Fer." 

In  1797,  the  society  of  "  Theophilanthropists  "  was  formed  in 
Paris.  Men  capable  of  any  reflection  began  to  see  how  utterly 
monstrous  was  the  attempt  to  dispense  with  religion — with  a 
universal  higher  law  to  which  to  appeal — with  something  to 
satisfy,  or  at  least  prevent  from  being  utterly  discouraged,  the 
instinctive  aspirations  of  the  human  heart.  Robspierre  objected 
to  atheism  as  aristocratic;  but  Paine  saw  somewhat  further 
than  this,  and  Larevilliere,  a  member  of  the  Directory,  was  im- 
pressed with  the  necessity  of  a  system  which  should  rival  the 
catholic  church  itself.  The  idea  was  supremely  great,  and 
lacked  only  the  Comtean  conception  of  science  to  make  it  a  suc- 
cess. As  it  was,  however,  it  proved  a  worse  failure  than  has 
even  Christianism.  Pure  Deism  is  not  at  all  more  intelligible 
than  is  that  mixture  of  Deism,  Buddhism,  Judaism,  and 
Paganism,  called  Christianity;  and  the  cold  moralism  which  is 
attached  to  the  one  God  system,  the  human  heart  instinctively 
abhors.  Paine,  and  all  the  other  doctors  of  divinity  with 
whom  he  was  in  unison,  were  far  behind  even  Mahomet,  or  Joe 
Smith,  in  respect  to  theology. 

Haiiy,  a  brother  of  the  eminent  cry  stall  ogist,  assembled  the 
first  society  of  Theophilanthropists.  They  held  their  meetings 
on  Sunday,  and  had  their  manual  of  worship  and  hymn-book. 

and  ably  taken  with  respect  to  woman's  rights,  however  exceptional  some  of 
the  measures  she  has  advocated  may  be  considered. 

But  there  is  no  danger  that  the  legitimate  object  of  man's  adoration. — 
woman — can  be  drawn  into  that  maelstrom  of  abomination, — caucus-and-bal- 
lot-boxism,  and  if  I  mistake  not,  Mrs.  Hose  does  not  press  the  extension  of 
" elective  franchise,"  to  her  sex  quite  as  vigorously  as  she  used  to.  At  all 
events,  she  is  doing  good  service  to  the  cause  of  human  emancipation  ;  she 
has  been  *  pioneer  in  a  reform  on  which  further  progress  importantly 
depends;  for  which  she  deserves  the  hearty  "thanks  of  man  and  woman." 

Abner  Kneeland  was,  I  believe,  the  first  editor  of  the  first  "openly  avowed 
Infidel  paper"  in  the  United  States, — the  "Boston  Investigator ;"  now  edited 
by  Horace  Seaver,  Esq. 

As  to  Theodore  Parker,  his  exertions  in  the  cause  of  free  inquiry  are  of 
world-wide  notoriety :  and  I  will  here  mention  that  "  The  Evidences  against 
Christianity,"  by  John  S.  Hittell,  should  be  the  hand-book  of  all  those  who 
look  to  reason,  free  discussion,  and  to  an  exposure  of  falsehood  and  error,  for 
the  salvation  of  the  human  race. 

The  services  which  Mr.  Joseph  Barker  has  rendered  the  liberal  cause  will 
not  soon  be  forgotten.  His  debate  with  Dr.  Berg  floors  Christianity  to  the 
utmost  that  argument  can.  rSut  I  much  prefer  the  valedictory  letter  which 
he  published  in  the  "Investigator,"  previous  to  his  departure  for  Europe. 
Evidently,  the  writer  is  beginning  to  see  that  something  more  than  mer* 
negativism  IB  needed  to  put  uown  superstition. 


PEEIOD  THIRD.  59 

Robespierre  had,  three  years  before,  given  a  magnificent  fete 
in  honor  of  I'Etre  Supreme,  and  Paine  now  delivered  a  dis- 
course before  one  of  the  Theophilanthropist  congregations,  in 
which  he  attempted  to  blend  science  and  "supernaturalism." 
That  some  parts  of  his  discourse  would  have  done  honor  to  an 
Orthodox  divine,  the  following  extracts  will  attest: — "Do  we 
want  to  contemplate  His  [God's]  power?  We  see  it  in  the 
immensity  of  the  creation.  Do  we  want  to  contemplate  his 
wisdom?  We  see  it  in  the  unchangeable  order  by  which  the 
incomprehensible  whole  is  governed.  Do  we  want  to  contem- 
plate His  mercy1?  We  see  it  in  His  not  withholding  His 
abundance  even  from  the  unthankful  In  fine,  do  we  want  to 
know  what  God  is  ?  Search  not  written  books,  but  the  Scriptures 
called  the  Creation." 

The  finale  of  the  miserable  political  and  religious  farce  which 
had  been  played  in  France,  was,  that,  in  1799,  Bonapai'te  sent 
a  file  of  grenadiers  to  turn  both  the  political  and  theological 
quacks  out  of  their  halls;  and  the  sooner  some  Bonaparte  does 
the  same  thing  in  the  United  States,  the  sooner  will  the  cause 
of  liberty  be  at  least  delivered  from  the  management  of  those 
who  are  insulting,  disgracing,  and  treacherously  betraying  it. 

Whilst  writing  this,  the  two  great  parties  of  spoil-seekers  in 
the  United  States,  have  been  causing  for,  and  have  at  length 
•decided  on,  two  individuals  out  of  some  thirty  millions,  one  of 
whom  is  to  be  demagogism's  cat's-paw  general  for  the  next  four 
years. 

The  qualifications  of  one  of  these  candidates  for  the  presi- 
dential chair,  consist  in  his  having  been  a  "farm-laborer,  a 
common  workman  in  a  saw-mill,  and  a  boatman  on  the  Wabash 
and  Mississsippi  rivers;"  a  wood-chopper,  a  hunter,  a  soldier  in 
the  Black  Hawk  war,  a  clerk  in  a  store,  and  finally  a  sham-law 
manufacturer  and  monger — a  member  of  a  legislature,  and  a 
lawyer.  The  qualifications  of  his  opponent  on  the  political- 
rac^-course,  are  probably  about  as  different  in  respect  to  value, 
from  those  just  enumerated,  as  fiddlededum  is  from  fiddlededee. 
Those  convenient  tools  of  both  parties,  those  chessmen  with 
which  the  political  game  is  played — The  People,  however  have 
great  expectations  of  reform  from  which  ever  candidate  they 
vote  (theyvotel  do  they?  Faugh/)  for,  provided  he  is  elected. 
But  mark  me  well,  my  dear  fellow-sufferers;  you,  and  all, 
•except  about  one  in  fifty  or  a  hundred  of  the  office-seekers 
whose  thievish  fingers  itch  for  the  public  treasury,  are  destined 


60  PERIOD  THIRD. 

to  utter,  and  most  woeful  disappointment.  Still,  I  neither 
blame  the  demagogues  nor  yourselves.  In  the  concluding 
sentences  of  this  history,  I  shall  tell  you  where  the  fault  lies; 
for  I  hope,  that  the  political  scamps  who,  in  this  country, 
are  making  the  name  of  freedom  a  scorn  and  a  derision 
throughout  the  rest  of  the  world,  will  be  eliminated  by  those 
who  will  make  liberty  an  actuality.  How  this  may  be  done,  I 
claim  to  have  demonstrated  in  "  The  Eeligion  of  Science,"  and 
"  Essence  of  Science." 

Throughout  Paine's  political  writings,  notwithstanding  their 
popularistic  dressings,  there  runs  a  tone  entirely  condemnatory 
of  demagogism,  and  highly  suggestive  of  social  science  and  art. 
And  there  is  no  question  but  that  the  miserable  abortion  in 
which  the  liberty-agitation  seemed  to  terminate  in  France,  and 
the  failing  aspect  which  it  took  on  in  America,  even  in  his  day, 
all  but  "  burst  his  mighty  heart,"  and  made  him  somewhat  care- 
less, though  far  from  slovenly,  with  respect  to  his  person. 

Paine's  opposition  to  the  atheists,  on  the  one  hand,  and  to- 
the  cruelty  of  those  who,  headed  by  Robespierre,  had  instituted 
the  worship  of  the  "  Supreme  Being"  on  the  other,  had  grad- 
ually rendered  him  unpopular  in  France.  His  remittances 
from  the  United  States  not  being  very  regular,  M.  Bonneville 
added  generosity  to  the  nobleness  which  he,  considering  the 
circumstances  displayed,  in  opening  his  door  to  Mr.  Paine,  by 
lending  him  money  whenever  he  wanted  it. 

This  kindness,  Paine  had  soon  both  the  opportunity  and  the 
means  of  reciprocating;  for  majority  absolutism  had  now  be- 
come so  unbearably  despotic,  so  exceedingly  morbific  to  the 
social  organism  in  France,  that  to  save  civilization  even  from 
destruction,  Bonaparte  had  to  be  invested  with  supreme  power 
in  the  State,  and  the  noninally  free  press  of  M.  Bonneville  was 
consequently  stopped. 

Mr.  Paine's  liberty  mission  in  France,  having  now  evidently 
failed  [always  remembering  that  nothing  in  nature  is  an  abso- 
lute failure — that  progres  is  the  constant  rule  and  the  seeming 
contrary  but  an  aberration],  he  at  once  resolved  to  return  to  the 
United  States,  where  he  offered  an  asylum  to  M.  Bonneville 
and  family ;  in  consequence  of  which,  Madame  Bonneville  and 
her  three  sons  soon  left  Paris  for  New  York. 

Owing  to  some  cause  or  other,  but  not  to  the  one  which 
Paine's  slanderers  were  afterwards  mulcted  in  damages,  even  in 
a  Christian  court  of  Justice,  for  assigning,  M.  Bonneville  did' 


PERIOD  THIRD.  61 

not  accompany  them.  The  eldest  son  returned  to  his  father  in 
Paris;  but  Mr.  Paine  amply  provided  for  the  maintenance  of 
Madaiae  Bonneville  and  her  two  sons  who  remained  in  America. 
At  Paris,  such  personages  as  the  Earl  of  Lauderdale,  Dr. 
Moore,  Brissot,  the  Marquis  de  Chatelet  le  Hoi,  General  Mi- 
randa, Capt.  Imlay,  Joel  Barlow,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stone,  and 
Mary  Wollstonecraft,*  sought  the  honor  of  Mr.  Paine's  com- 
pany. 

That  Mr.  Paine's  eloquence  and  power  of  reasoning  were  un- 
surpassed even  by  Cicero,  Demosthenes  or  Daniel  Webster,  his 
political  writings  fully  attest. 

Betore  it  became  known  who  wrote  "  Common  Sense,"  it  was 
by  some  attributed  to  Dr.  Franklin ;  others  insisted  that  it  was 
by  that  elegant  writer  of  English, — John  Adams,  f 

"  It  has  been  very  generally  propagated  through  the  continent," 
says  Mr.  Adams,  "  that  I  wrote  this  pamphlet.  ...  I  could  not 
have  written  anything  in  so  manly  and  striking  a  style."  This 
eulogy,  be  it  remembered,  was  pronounced  by  one  who  was  so 
jealous  of  Paine's  credit  in  the  matter  of  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  that,  says  Randall,  in  his  "  Life  of  Thomas  Jef- 
ferson," he  '•  spares  no  occasion  to  underrate  Paine's  services, 
and  to  assault  his  opinions  and  character.  "J 

Mr.  Randall  continues: — 

"  A  more  effective  popular  appeal  [than  '  Common  Sense '] 
never  went  to  the  bosoms  of  a  nation.  Its  tone,  its  manner, 
its  biblical  illusions,  its  avoidance  of  all  openly  impassioned 
appeals  to  feeling,  and  its  unanswerable  common  sense  were 

*  Authoress  of  "A  Vindication  of  the  Rights  of  Woman,  with  Strictures 
on  Political  and  Moral  Subjects."  A  work,  the  exceeding  merit  of  which 
has  been  lost  sight  of,  in  its  name,  since  woman's  rights  have  been  claimed 
to  consist  in  the  liberty  to  degrade  herself  to  the  level  of  the  politician. 

f  That  that  great  patriot,  John  Adams,  ami  many  other  revolutionary 
worthies  vaguely  entertained  the  idea  of  Independence  before  "Common 
Sense  "  was  published,  there  can  be  no  doubt.  But  the  question  is,  who  had 
the  courage  to  first  propose  the  thing,  and  in  a  practical  shape  ?  That  Mr. 
Adam's  prudence  predominated  over  his  courage,  great  as  that  was,  is  fur- 
ther deducible  from  the  strong  reason  there  was  for  the  inference  that  his 
religious  opinions,  if  openly  expressed,  would  have  appeared  as  far  from  the 
orthodox  standard,  as  were  those  of  Paine.  See  Randall's  "  Life  of  Jeffer- 
son," on  this  point. 

£  1  have  before  called  the  attention  of  the  reader  to  the  fact  that  Rousseau 
was,  like  Paine,  an  "author  hero;"  his  writings  were  prominently  the  text 
of  the  French  Revolution.  I  will  further  remark,  that  whoever  drew  up 
the  "  Declaration  of  Independence,"  has  given  indisputable  evidence  of  hav- 
ing well  studied  the  "  Contrat  Social "  of  the  author  of  the  "  world-famous  " 
"  Confessions." 


62  PERIOD  THIRD. 

exquisitely  adapted  to  the  great  audience  to  which  it  wa& 
addressed;  and  calm  investigation  will  satisfy  the  historical 
student,  that  its  effect  in  preparing  the  popular  mind  for  the 
Declaration  of  Independence,  exceeded  that  of  any  other  paper, 
speech,  or  document  made  to  favor  it,  and  it  would  scarcely  be 
exaggeration  to  add,  than  all  other  such  means  put  together." 

"  No  writer,"  says  Thomas  Jefferson,  "  has  exceeded  Paine 
in  ease  and  familiarity  of  style,  in  perspicuity  of  expression, 
happiness  of  elucidation,  and  in  simple  and  unassuming 
language." 

Says  General  Washington,  in  a  letter  to  Joseph  Reed  (Jan. 
31,  1776):  "A  few  more  such  flaming  arguments  as  were  ex- 
hibited at  Falmouth  and  Norfolk,  added  to  the  sound  doctrine 
and  unanswerable  reasoning  contained  in  the  pamphlet  '  Com- 
mon Sense,'  will  not  leave  numbers  at  a  loss  to  decide  on  the 
propriety  of  a  separation." 

That  Paine  possessed  a  very  superior  degree  of  mechanical 
skill,  his  model  for  iron-bridges  abundantly  proves.  That  his 
genius  for  poetry  lacked  but  cultivating,  I  think  will  sufficiently 
appear  from  the  following  little  effusion,  extracted  from  his 
correspondence  with  a  lady,  afterwards  the  wife  of  Sir  Robert 
Smith : — 

FKOM  "THE  CASTLE  IN  THE  AIK,"  TO  THE  "LITTLE 
CORNER  OF  THE  WORLD." 

IN  the  region  of  clouds  where  the  whirlwinds  arise, 

My  castle  of  fancy  was  built ; 
The  turrets  reflected  the  blue  of  the  skies, 

And  the  windows  with  sun-beams  were  gilt. 

The  rainbow  sometimes,  in  its  beautiful  state, 

Enamelled  the  mansion  around, 
And  the  figures  that  fancy  in  clouds  can  create, 

Supplied  me  with  gardens  and  ground. 

I  had  grottoes  and  fountains  and  orange  tree  groves,  , 

I  had  all  that  enchantment  has  told ; 
I  had  sweet  shady  walks  for  the  gods  and  their  loves, 

I  had  mountains  of  coral  and  gold. 

But  a  storm  that  I  felt  not,  had  risen  and  rolled. 

While  wrapt  in  a  slumber  1  lay : 
And  when  I  looked  out  in  the  morning,  behold  I 

My  castle  was  carried  away. 

It  passed  over  rivers,  and  valleys,  and  grovea — 

The  world,  it  was  all  in  mv  view — 
I  thought  of  mv  friends,  of  their  fates,  of  their  love% 

And  often,  full  often,  of  you. 


PERIOD  THIRD.  63 

At  length  it  came  over  a  beautiful  scene, 

That  nature  in  silence  had  made : 
The  place  was  but  small— but  'twas  sweetly  serene, 

And  chequered  with  sunshine  and  shade. 

I  gazed  and  I  envied  with  painful  good  will, 

And  grew  tired  of  my  seat  in  the  air: 
"When  all  of  a  sudden  my  castle  stood  still, 

As  if  some  attraction  was  tl  are. 

Like  a  lark  from  the  sky  it  came  fluttering  down, 

And  placed  me  exactly  in  view — 
When  who  should  I  meet,  in  this  charming  retreat, 

This  comer  of  calmness— but  you. 

Delighted  to  find  you  in  honor  and  ease, 

I  felt  no  more  sorrow  nor  pain ; 
And  the  wind  coming  fair,  I  ascended  the  breeze, 

And  went  back  with  my  castle  again. 

On  the  subject  of  the  simplicity  of  Mr.  Paine's  habits,  and 
his  general  amiability,  his  friend  Clio  Rickman  remarks: — 

"He  usually  rose  about  seven,  breakfasted  with  his  friend 
Choppin,  Johnson,  and  two  or  three  other  Englishmen,  and  a 
Monsieur  La  Borde,  who  had  been  an  officer  in  the  ci-devant 
grande  du  corps,  an  intolerable  aristocrat,  but  whose  skill  in 
mechanics  and  geometry  brought  on  a  friendship  between  him 
and  Paine;  for  the  undaunted  and  distinguished  ability  and 
firmness  with  which  he  ever  defended  his  own  opinions  when 
controverted,  do  not  reflect  higher  honor  on  him  than  that  un- 
bounded liberality  toward  the  opinion  of  others  which  consti- 
tuted such  a  prominent  feature  in  his  character,  and  which 
never  suffered  mere  difference  of  sentiment,  whether  political 
cr  religious,  to  interrupt  the  harmonious  intercourse  of  friend- 
ship, or  impede  the  interchanges  of  knowledge  and  information. 

"  After  breakfast  he  usually  strayed  an  hour  or  two  in  the 
garden,  where  he  one  morning  pointed  out  the  kind  of  spider 
whose  web  furnished  him  with  the  first  idea  of  constructing 
his  iron  bridge;  a  fine  model  of  which,  in  mahogany,  is  pre- 
served at  Paris. 

"  The  little  happy  circle  who  lived  with  him  here  will  ever 
remember  these  days  with  delight:  with  these  select  friends  he 
would  talk  of  his  boyish  days,  play  at  chess,  whist,  piquet,  or 
cribbage,  and  enliven  the  moments  by  many  interesting  anec- 
dotes: with  these  he  would  sport  on  the  broad  and  tine  gravel 
walk  at  the  upper  end  of  the  garden,  and  then  retire  to  his 
bouboir,  where  he  was  up  to  his  knees  in  letters  and  papers  of 


<J4  PERIOD  THIRD. 

various  descriptions.  Here  he  remained  till  dinner-time;  and 
unless  he  visited  Brissot's  family,  or  some  particular  friend  in 
the  evening,  which  was  his  frequent  custom,  he  joined  again 
the  society  of  his  favorites  arid  fellow-boarders,  with  whom  his 
conversation  was  often  witty  and  cheerful,  always  acute  and 
improving,  but  never  frivolous. 

"  Incorrupt,  straightforward,  and  sincere,  he  pursued  his  polit- 
ical course  in  France,  as  everywhere  else,  let  the  government 
-or  clamor  or  faction  of  the  day  be  what  it  might,  with  firmness, 
with  clearness,  and  without  a  '  shadow  of  turning.' 

"  In  all  Mr.  Paine's  inquiries  and  conversations  he  evinced 
the  strongest  attachment  to  the  investigation  of  truth,  and  was 
always  for  going  to  the  fountain-head  for  information.  He 
of  Leu  lamented  we  had  no  good  history  of  America,  and  that 
the  letters  written  by  Columbus,  the  early  navigators,  and 
others  to  the  Spanish  court,  were  inaccessible,  and  that  many 
valuable  documents,  collected  by  Philip  II.,  and  deposited  with 
the  national  archives  at  Simanca,  had  not  yet  been  promulga- 
ted. He  used  to  speak  highly  of  the  sentimental  parts  of 
<  Raynal's  History.' " 

Of  course  Mr.  Paine  did  not  escape  the  imputation  of  being 
"immoral."  The  cry  of  "immorality"  and  "  licentiousness  " 
has  been  raised  against  everyone  who  has  ever  proposed  a 
social  system  different  from  the  prevailing  one,  from  the  time 
of  him  who  preferred  harlotry  to  phariseeism,  to  that  of  Charles 
Fourier. 

Luther  no  more  escaped  the  accusation  of  being  a  sensualist, 
than  did  Thomas  Paine;  and  had  not  Milton  written  "Paradise 
Lost,"  and  professed  the  "  orthodox  "  religion,  his  "  Doctrine 
.and  Discipline  of  Divorce"  would  have  placed  him  on  the  same 
historical  page  with  those  reformers  Dr.  T.  L.  Nichols,  Dr.  E. 
Lazarus,  and  Stephen  Pearl  Andrews.* 

*  The  first  of  these  gentlemen  favored  mankind  with  "Esoteric  Anthro- 
pology," and  "Marriage:  its  History,"  &c.  The  second  is  the  author  of 
"  Love  vs.  Marriage  ;  "  and  the  third  took  the  free  love  side  of  the  question 
in  the  famous  discussion  on  Marriage  and  Divorce,  between  himself  and  the 
Hon.  Horace  Greeley,  and  is  author  of  "  The  Science  of  Society,"  and  several 
other  progressive  works,  and  of  an  admirable  system  of  instruction  in  the 
French  language. 

It  is  difficult  to  see  how  a  person  of  Mr.  Greeley's  understanding  could 
have  taken  the  side  he  did  in  the  controversy  just  alluded  to,  and  also  in 
tiie  renewal  of  that  controversy  between  himself  and  the  Hon.  Robert  Dale 
Owen. 

That  monogamy,  like  pologamy,  has  nerved  a  useful   purpose,  everyone 


PERIOD  THIRD.  65 

Paine  did  not,  as  we  have  seen,  live  with  bis  wife;  but  if  he 
refrained  from  sexual  intercourse,  it  must  have  been  because 
he  was  afraid  of  what  the  world  might  say  (a  supposition  too 
absurd,  in  his  case,  to  bo  entertained  for  a  moment),  or  because 
he  had  little  taste  for  amorous  pleasures;  or,  lastly,  because  he 
wanted  to  show  the  world  that  liberalism  was  such  a  matter  of 
moon-shine,  that  it  was  not  even  inimical  to  what  a  religious 
system  which  upholds  crucifixion  and  self-denial,  palms  off  on 
its  dupes  for  "  virtue ; "  that  liberalism  has  no  virtue  of  its 
own,  and  therefore  has  to  borrow  and  adopt  that  the  very  basis 
of  which  is  supernaturalistic  self-enslavement;  that  free-think- 
ing is  a  mere  speculative,  impracticable,  Abstract  sort  of  free- 
dom, which  it  would  not  be  "  virtuous  "  to  accompany  by  free 
acting;  that  liberty,  even  in  the  most  important  particular  (as 
all  physiologists  know),  is  but  a  mere  figment  of  the  imagina- 
tion, over  which  to  debate  or  hold  free  discussions;  or,  at  most, 
to  write  songs,  plays,  and  novels  about. 

But  what  is  most  worthy  of  remark  in  this  connection  is, 
that  had  the  discoverer  of  the  steam-engine,  or  of  the  electrical 
telegraph  been  a  very  Rochester,  or  Csesar  Borgia,  the  circum- 
stance would  not  have  been  mentioned  as  an  objection  to  a 
steam-boat  passage,  or  to  a  telegraphic  despatch ;  and  only  when 
sociology  is  rescued  from  the  wild  regions  of  the  speculative 

capable  of  tracing  progress,  can  of  course  see ;  but  how  such  an  one  can  fail 
to  perceive  that  these  institutions  have  about  equally  become  worn  out,  and 
morbific  to  the  social  organism,  both  in  Western  Europe  and  the  United 
States,  is  to  me  somewhat  mysterious.  Are  not  those  crowning  curses,  (ex- 
cepting, of  course,  demagogism)  prostitution  and  pauperism,  alarmingly  on 
the  increase  ?  And  does  not  the  former  flourish  most,  where  the  cords  of 
matrimony  are  drawn  the  tightest  ? 

But  the  fact  that  Mr.  Greeley  magnanimously  opened  the  columns  of 
"  The  Tribune  "  to  the  other  side  of  the  question,  shows  that  he  had  full 
confidence  in  the  arguments  on  his  side,  and  this  ought  to  dispel  all  doubts 
as  to  his  sincerity,  and  the  uprightness  of  his  intention.  It  is  only  hypo- 
crites or  downright  fools,  who  wish  to  have  truth,  with  respect  to  religious 
or  social  questions,  suppressed. 

^ Still,  I  respectfully  ask  you,  Mr.  Editor  of  "  The  New  York  Tribune,"— 
did  you  during  your  visit  to  Mormondom,  observe  any  part  of  Salt  Lake 
City,  in  which  humanity  touched  a  lower  depth  than  that  to  which  it  sinks 
in  our  Five  Points,  and  in  the  vicinity  of  the  junction  of  Water  and  Roose- 
velt-streets ?  And  do  you  really  think,  that  even  in  the  harem  of  Brigham 
Young,  female  degradation  is  greater  than  in  the  New  York  ualar.es  of  har- 
lotry? En  passant,  one  of  these  has  just  been  fitted  up,  the  furniture  alone 
in  which  cost  thirty  thousand  dollars  !  Yet  New  York  is  almost  the  only 
State  in  the  Union,  wherein  exists  what  Mr  Greeley  considers  orthodox 
marriage — marriage,  from  the  bonds  of  which  there  is  no  escape,  except 
through  the  door  of  artuai  adultery,  natural  death,  or  murder ;  often  by 
poison,  but  generally  through  the  inflrction  of  menial  agony  I 
5 


66  PERIOD  THIRD. 

and  becomes  an  art,  will  it  have  a  rule  of  its  own ;  a  rule  which 
will  free  all  the  natural  passions  from  the  shackles  of  ignorance 
of  how  to  beneficially  gratify  them. 

For  a  reason  which  will  presently  appear,  I  shall  now  call 
the  readers  attention  to  the  letter  of  Joel  Barlow,  written  in 
answer  to  one  from  that  vilest  of  slanderers  and  renegados, — 
James  Cheetham.  This  letter  was  written  to  obtain  informa- 
tion; nay,  not  information,  but  what  might  be  tortured  into 
appearing  such,  with  a  view  to  sending  forth  to  a  prejudiced 
world,  that  tissue  of  falsehoods  which  Cheetha,rj  had  the  auda- 
city to  palm  off  on  it  for  the  "  Life  of  Thomas  Paine." 

To  JAMES  CHEETHAM. 

SIR, —  I  have  received  your  letter  calling  for  information 
relative  to  the  life  of  Thomas  Paine.  It  appears  to  me  that 
this  is  not  the  moment  to  publish  the  life  of  that  man  in  this 
country.  His  own  writings  are  his  best  life,  and  these  are  not 
read  at  present. 

The  greatest  part  of  the  readers  in  the  United  States  will 
not  be  persuaded  as  long  as  their  present  feelings  last,  to  con- 
sider him  in  any  other  light  than  as  a  drunkard  and  a  deist. 
The  writer  of  his  life  who  should  dwell  on  these  topics,  to  the 
exclusion  of  the  great  and  estimable  traits  of  his  real  character, 
might,  indeed,  please  the  rabble  of  the  age  who  do  not  know 
him  ;  the  book  might  sell ;  but  it  would  only  tend  to  render 
the  truth  more  obscure,  for  the  future  biographer,  than  it  was 
before. 

But  if  the  present  writer  should  give  us  Thomas  Paine  com- 
plete in  all  his  character  as  one  of  the  most  benevolent  and  dis- 
interested of  mankind,  endowed  with  the  clearest  perception, 
an  uncommon  share  of  original  genius,  and  the  greatest  breadth 
of  thought;  if  this  piece  of  biography  should  analyze  his  literary 
labors,  and  rank  him  as  he  ought  to  be  ranked  amongst  the 
brightest  and  most  undeviating  luminaries  of  the  age  in  which 
he  has  lived — yet  with  a  m\ud  assailable  by  flattery,  and  receiv- 
ing through  that  weak  side  a  tincture  of  vanity  which  he  was 
too  proud  to  conceal;  with  a  mind,  though  strong  enough  to 
bear  him  up,  and  to  rise  elastic  under  the  heaviest  load  of  op- 
pression, y»t  unable  to  endure  the  contempt  of  his  former 
friends  and  fellow-laborers,  the  rulers  of  the  country  that  had 
received  his  first  and  greatest  services — a  mind  incapable  of 
down  vith  aerone  compassion,  as  it  ought,  on  the  rude 


PERIOD  THIRD.  ,         67 

scoffs  of  their  imitators,  a  new  generation  that  knows  him  not ; 
a  mind  that  shrinks  from  their  society,  and  unhappily  seeks 
refuge  in  low  company,  or  looks  for  consolation  in  the  sordid, 
•solitary  bottle,  until  it  sinks  at  last  so  far  below  its  native  ele- 
vation as  to  lose  all  respect  for  itself,  and  to  forfeit  that  of  his 
best  friends,  disposing  these  friends  almost  to  join  with  his 
enemies,  and  wish,  though  from  different  motives,  that  he  would 
haste  to  hide  himself  in  the  grave — if  you  are  disposed  and 
prepared  to  write  his  life,  thus  entire,  to  fill  up  the  picture  to 
which  these  hasty  strokes  of  outline  give  but  a  rude  sketch  with 
great  vacuities,  your  book  may  be  a  useful  one  for  another  age, 
but  it  will  not  be  relished,  nor  scarcely  tolerated  in  this. 

The  biographer  of  Thomas  Paine  should  not  forget  his 
mathematical  acquirements,  and  his  mechanical  genius.  His 
invention  of  the  iron  bridge,  which  led  him  to  Europe  in  the 
year  1787,  has  procured  him  a  great  reputation  in  that  branch 
of  science,  in  France  and  England,  in  both  which  countries  his 
bridge  has  been  adopted  in  many  instances,  and  is  now  much  in 
use. 

You  ask  whether  he  took  an  oath  of  allegiance  to  France. 
Doubtless  the  qualification  to  be  a  member  of  the  convention 
required  an  oath  of  fidelity  to  that  country,  but  involved  in  it 
no  abjuration  of  his  fidelity  to  this.  He  was  made  a  French 
citizen  by  the  same  decree  with  Washington,  Hamilton,  Priest- 
ley, and  Sir  James  Mackintosh. 

What  Mr.  M has  told  you  relative  to  the  circum- 
stances of  his  arrestation  by  order  of  Robespierre,  is  erroneous, 
at  least  in  one  point.  Paine  did  not  lodge  at  the  house  where 
he  was  arrested,  but  had  been  dining  there  with  some  Ameri- 
cans of  whom  Mr.  M may  have  been  one.  I  never 

heard  before,  that  Paine  was  intoxicated  that  night.  Indeed 
the  officers  brought  him  directly  to  my  house,  which  was  two 
miles  from  his  lodgings,  and  about  as  much  from  the  place 
where  he  had  been  dining.  He  was  not  intoxicated  when  he 
came  to  me.  Their  object  was  to  get  me  to  go  and  assist  them 
to  examine  Paine's  paper.  It  employed  us  the  rest  of  that 
night,  and  the  whole  of  the  next  day  at  Paine's  lodgings ;  and 
he  was  not  committed  to  prison  till  the  next  evening. 

You  ask  what  company  he  kept — he  always  frequented  the 
best,  both  in  England  and  France,  till  he  became  the  object  of 
calumny  in  certain  American  papers  (echoes  of  the  English 
court  papers),  for  his  adherence  to  what  he  thought  the  cause 


68  PERIOD  THIRD. 

of  liberty  in  France,  till  he  conceived  himself  neglected  and 
despised  by  his  former  friends  in  the  United  States.  From  that 
moment  he  gave  himself  very  much  to  drink,  and,  consequently, 
to  companions  less  worthy  of  his  better  days. 

It  is  said  he  was  always  a  peevish  person — this  is  possible. 
So  was  Lawrence  Sterne,  so  was  Torquato  Tasso,  so  was  J.  J. 
Rousseau;*  but  Thomas  Paine,  as  a  visiting  acquaintance  and 
as  a  literary  friend,  the  only  points  of  view  in  which  I  knew 
him,  was  one  of  the  most  instructive  men  I  ever  have  known. 
He  had  a  surprising  memory  and  brilliant  fancy ;  his  mind  was 
a  storehouse  of  facts  and  useful  observations;  he  was  full  of 
lively  anecdote,  and  ingenious  original,  pertinent  remark  upon 
almost  every  subject. 

He  was  always  charitable  to  the  poor  beyond  his  means,  a 
sure  protector  and  friend  to  all  Americans  in  distress  that  he 
found  in  foreign  countries.  And  he  had  frequent  occasions  to 
exert  his  influence  in  protecting  them  during  the  revolution  in 
France.  His  writings  will  answer  for  his  patriotism,  and  his 
entire  devotion  to  what  he  conceived  to  be  the  best  interest  and 
happiness  of  mankind. 

This,  sir,  is  all  I  have  to  remark  on  the  subject  you  mention. 
Now  I  have  only  one  request  to  make,  and  that  would  doubt- 
less seem  impertinent,  were  you  not  the  editor  of  a  newspaper ; 
it  is,  that  you  will  not  publish  my  letter,  nor  permit  a  copy  of 
it  to  be  taken. 

I  am,  sir,  etc., 

JOEL  BARLOW. 
KALOBAMA,  Augutt  It,  1809. 

"  Mr.  Barlow,"  says  Mr.  Yale,  "  was  in  France  at  the  time 
of  Mr.  Paine's  death,  and  knew  not  his  habits.  Cheetham 
wrote  to  him,  informed  him  of  his  object,  mentioned  that  Paine 
was  drunken  and  low  in  his  company  towards  the  latter  years 
of  his  life,  and  says  he  was  informed  that  he  was  drimk  when 
taken  to  prison  in  France.  Now  Mr.  Barlow  does  not  contra- 
dict Cheetham ;  he  could  not,  as  Cheetham  had  the  better  op- 
portunity of  knowing  facts,  and  Mr.  Barlow  does  not  suspect 
him  of  falsehood;  as  who  would?  He  therefore  presumes  Mr. 

*  The  peevishness  of  the  famous  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson  is  notorious ;  and 
David,  the  "man  after  God's  own  heart,"  was  so  inveterately  peevish  as  to 
tiruj,  whilst  he  forced  the  sweet  tones  of  his  harp  to  accompany  the  spiteful 
cauticle,  "All  men  ore  liars." 


PERIOD  THIRD.  69 

Cheetham  correct  in  the  statement,  and  goes  on,  not  to  excuse 
Mr.  Paine,  but  to  present  his  acknowledged  good  qualities  as  a 
set-off.  Then  Cheetham  publishes  this  letter,  and  presents,  to 
a  cursory  reader,  Mr.  Joel  Barlow  as  acknowledging  Mr. 
Paine's  intemperance,  and  other  infirmities,  which  had  no  other 
foundation  than  Cheetham's  declaration,  given  to  deceive  Bar- 
low; who  afterwards,  as  we  have  seen,  gives  Barlow's  letter  to 
deceive  the  public." 

The  late  Mr.  D.  Burger,  a  respectable  watch  and  clock  maker 
in  the  City  of  New  York,  and  who,  when  a  boy,  was  clerk  in 
the  store  which  furnished  Mr.  Paine's  groceries,  personally  as- 
sured the  writer  of  this,  that  all  the  liquor  which  Mr.  Paine 
bought,  both  for  himself  and  his  friends,  at  a  time,  too,  when 
drinking  was  fashionable,  was  one  quart  a  week. 

Before  returning  to  the  thread  of  this  narrative,  I  will  call 
the  attention  of  the  reader  to  the  following  letter,  from  Mr. 
Jefferson,  written  to  Mr.  Paine,  in  answer  to  one  which  the 
la  tter  wrote  to  him  from  Paris : — 

You  express  a  wish  in  your  letter  to  return  to  America  by 
a  national  ship ;  Mr.  Dawson  who  brings  over  the  treaty,  and 
who  will  present  you  with  this  letter,  is  charged  with  orders  to 
the  captain  of  the  Maryland  to  receive  and  accommodate  you 
back,  if  you  can  be  ready  to  depart  at  such  a  short  warning. 
You  will  in  general  find  us  returned  to  sentiments  worthy  of 
former  times;  in  these  it  will  be  your  glory  to  have  steadily 
labored,  and  with  as  much  effect  as  any  man  living.  That  you 
may  live  long  to  continue  your  useful  labors,  and  reap  the  re- 
ward in  the  thankfulness  of  nations,  is  my  sincere  prayer. 
Accept  the  assurances  of  my  high  esteem  and  affectionate  at- 
tachment. 

THOMAS  JEFFERSON. 

Mr.  Jefferson  had,  during  the  election  campaign  which  seated 
him  in  the  presidential  chair,  been  pronounced  an  infidel ;  and, 
s.iys  Randall,  in  his  "  Life  of  Jefferson:"  "It  was  asserted  in 
the  Federal  newspapers  generally,  and  preached  from  a  multi- 
tude of  pulpits,  that  one  of  the  first  acts  of  the  President,  after 
entering  office,  was  to  send  a  national  vessel  to  invite  and  bring 
'  Tom  Paine '  to  America. " 

"  Paine  was  an  infidel,"  continues  Randall.  "He  had  written 
ooliticallv  against  Washington.  He  was  accused  of  inebriety. 


70  PERIOD  THIRD. 

and  a  want  of  chastity  [of  the  truth  of  both  which  accusations 
Randall  strongly  indicates  his  unbelief.]  But  he  was  the  author 
of  "Common  Sense"  and  the  "Crisis." 

On  the  occasion  of  Paine's  writing  to  Jefferson  that  he  was 
coming  to  visit  him  at  Monticello,  Randall  again  remarks : — 
"  Mrs.  Randolph,  and  we  think  Mrs.  Epps,  both  daughters  of 
the  Church  of  England,  were  not  careful  to  conceal  that  they 
would  have  much  preferred  to  have  Mr.  Paine  stay  away.  Mr. 
Jefferson  turned  to  the  speaker  with  his  gentlest  smile,  and  re- 
marked in  substance:  "Mr.  Paine  is  not,  I  believe,  a  favorite 
among  the  ladies — but  he  is  too  well  entitled  to  the  hospitality 
of  every  American  not  to  cheerfully  receive  mine."  Paine 
came,  and  remained  a  day  or  two,  ....  and  left  Mr.  Jefferson's 
mansion,  the  subject  of  lighter  prejudices,  than  when  he  entered 
it." 

Mr.  Paine  was  to  have  accompanied  Mr.  Munroe  back  to  the 
United  States,  but  was  unable  to  complete  his  arrangements  in 
time.  This  was  fortunate;  for  the  vessel  in  which  the  Ameri- 
can minister  embarked  was,  on  her  passage,  boarded  by  a 
British  frigate,  and  thoroughly  searched  for  the  author  of  "The 
Rights  of  Man."  Paine  then  went  to  Havre;  but  finding  that 
several  British  frigates  were  cruising  about  the  port,  he  returned 
to  Paris. 

Seeing  himself  thus  baulked,  he  wrote  to  Mr.  Jefferson,  as 
before  stated,  for  assistance,  which  produced  the  letter  above 
copied.  He  did  not,  however,  from  some  cause  or  other,  take 
passage  in  the  Maryland.  He  next  agreed  to  sail  with  Com- 
modore Barney,  but  was  accidentally  detained  beyond  the 
time,  and  the  vessel  in  which  he  was  to  have  embarked  was 
lost  at  sea. 

In  addition  to  these  remarkable  preservations,  Paine,  in  1805, 
was  shot  at  through  the  window  of  his  own  house,  at  New 
Rochelle,  and  escaped  unharmed;  also  the  privateer  in  which, 
but  for  the  interference  of  his  father  (as  we  have  seen),  he 
would,  when  a  youth,  have  sailed,  lost  174  out  of  her  crew  of 
200  men,  in  a  single  battle;  and  when  he  was  in  prison,  as  has 
already  been  related,  he  missed  going  to  the  guillotine,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  jailor,  whose  business  it  was  .to  put  the  death- 
mark  on  the  cell-doors  of  the  doomed,  not  noticing  that  the 
door  of  the  cell  which  contained  the  author  of  the  "  Age  of 
Reason  "  was  open  flat  against  the  wail,  so  that  the  inside  was 
marked  for  the  information  of  Paine,  instead  of  the  outside  for 


PERIOD   THIRD.  71 

the  instruction  of  the  executioner.*  Had  a  missionary  of: 
superstition  been  thus  preserved,  how  the  hand  of  "  God " 
would  have  been  seen  in  the  matter. 

*  "But  in  this  set  of  Tumbrils  [the  dung-carts  in  which  the  victims  of  the 
Reign  of  Terror  were  dragged  to  execution]  there  are  two  other  things  no- 
table ;  one  notable  person ;  and  one  want  of  a  notable  person.  The  notable 
person  is  Lieutenant-General  Loiserolles,  a  nobleman  by  birth,  and  by  nature  ; 
faying  down  his  life  here  for  his  son.  In  the  prison  of  Saint- Lazare,  the 
night  before  last,  hurrying  to  the  gate  to  hear  the  death-list  read,  he  caught 
the  name  of  his  son.  The  son  was  asleep  at  the  moment.  "I  am  Loise- 
rolles," cried  the  old  man  ;  at  Tinville's  bar,  an  error  in  the  Christian  name 
is  little;  small  objection  was  made. — The  want  of  the  notable  person,  again, 
is  that  of  Deputy  Paine !  Paine  has  sat  in  the  Luxembourg  since  January ; 
and  seemed  forgotten;  but  Fouquierhad  pricked  him  at  last.  The  turnkey, 
list  in  hand,  is  marking  with  chalk  the  outer  doors  of  to-morrow's  Fournee. 
Paine's  outer  door  happened  to  be  open,  turned  back  on  the  wall ;  the  turn- 
key marked  it  on  the  side  next  him,  and  hurried  on  ;  another  turnkey  came, 
and  shut  it ;  no  chalk-mark  now  visible,  the  Fournee  went  without  Paine. 
Paine's  life  lay  not  there." — Carlyle. 

Fouquier  Tinville,  above  alluded  to,  was  the  head  juryman  of  the  Revo- 
lutionary Tribunal.  He  was  far  more  blood-thirsty  than  was  Robespierre 
himself.  Was  not  the  proof  of  his  atrocities  indubitable,  it  would  be  impos- 
sible to  believe  that  such  horrors  ever  took  place.  Yet  such  a  "man  of 
principle,"  and  so  incorruptible  was  this  horrible  wretch,  that,  says  Allison, 
' '  women,  the  pleasures  of  the  table,  or  of  the  theatre,  were  alike  indifferent 
to  him He  might  during  the  period  of  his  power,  have  amassed  an  im- 
mense fortune ;  he  remained  to  the  last  poor,  and  his  wife  is  said  to  have  died 
of  famine.  His  lodgidgs  were  destitute  of  every  comfort ;  their  whole  furni- 
ture, after  his  death,  did  not  sell  for  twenty  pounds.  No  seduction  could 
influence  him."  I  will  add,  so  much  for  principle.  FOUQUIER  TINVILLB 

WAS,  PAST  ALL  QUESTION,  VIRTUOUS,  HONEST,  SINCERE,  CONSCIENTIOUS. 

Had  this  miserable  victim  of  the  cruelest  and  hardest  to  be  got  rid  of  delusion 
that  mankind  were  ever  infatuated  with,  been  as  destitute  of  all  "  virtuous" 
qualities  as  was  Alexander  VI.,  he  could,  at  worst,  have  been  bought  off, 
and  would  probably  not  have  perpetrated  a  tithe  of  the  evil  he  did.  He  at 
last,  like  Robespierre,  "  sealed  his  testimony  "  on  the  scaifold. 

The  French,  like  ourselves,  had  been  taught  to  venerate  a  religious  sys- 
tem which  defies  that  crowning  atrocity,  crucifixion  to  satisfy  justice  !  and 
which  consequently  canonizes  daily  and  hourly  self-crucifixion.  In  all  can- 
dor I  ask,  was  not  pracitical  faith  in  the  guillotine  the  natural  result?  and 
are  not  war,  duelling,  torturing,  hanging,  imprisioning ;  together  with  blam- 
ing and  despising  our  unfortunate  fellow-creatures  as  vicious,— as  less  holy 
than  our  stupid  selves,  the  practical  logic  of  "virtue"  and  "principle?" 
And  were  not  Marat,  Joseph  Lebon,  St.  Just,  Robespierre,  Tin  vale,  and  the 
rest  of  that  ilk,  the  tools — the  agents — the  faithful  servants,  and  finally  the 
victims  of  the  supernaturalistically  educated  and  virtuously  inclined  majority  ! 
The  arch  tyrant  who  was  at  the  bottom  of  all  this,  I  shall  take  in  hand 
presently,  and  show  how  to  conquer  ;  ay,  annihilate  him. 

If  the  grand  truth  was  taught  us  from  our  cradles,  that  we  can  no  more 
expect  well  doing  without  the  requisite  materialistic  conditions,  than  we  can 
expect  a  watch  to  keep  time  except  on  condition  that  every  wheel  and  spring 
shall  be  in  artistic  harmony  with  each  other,  where  would  be  malice !  And 
if  we  practiced  in  accordance  with  this  grand  truth,  where  would  be  either 
wholesale  or  retail  murder?  where  would  be  wrong  of  any  description? 
"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  methinks  I  hear  the  mildest  of  the  old  fogiea 


72  PERIOD  THIRD. 

He  at  last  sailed  from  Havre,  on  the  1st  of  September,  1802, 
and  arrived  in  Baltimore  on  the  30th  of  October  foil  lowing. 

From  Baltimore  he  went  to  Washington,  where  he  was  kindly 
received  by  the  President,  Thomas  Jefferson.  This  gentleman 
thought  so  highly  of  him,  that  a  few  days  before  his  arrival,  he 
remarked  to  a  friend, — "  If  there  be  an  office  in  my  gift,  suit- 
able for  him  to  fill,  I  will  give  it  to  him;  I  will  never  abandon 
old  friends  to  make  room  for  new  ones."  Jefferson  was  one  of 
the  few  among  Paine's  illustrious  friends,  who  never  joined  the 
priest-ridden  multitude  against  him.  He  corresponded  with 
him  up  to  the  time  of  his  death. 

Mr.  Paine  was  now  between  sixty  and  seventy  years  of  age, 
yet  vigorous  in  body,  and  with  a  mind  not  at  all  impaired. 

Of  the  manner  in  which  he  was  generally  received  on  his 
return  to  the  United  States,  we  can  form  a  very  fair  judgment 
from  the  following  letter  to  his  friend,  Clio  Bickman : — 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND, — Mr.  Monroe,  who  is  appointed  minister 
extraordinary  to  France,  takes  charge  of  this,  to  be  delivered 
to  Mr.  Este,  banker  in  Paris,  to  be  forwarded  to  you. 

I  arrived  at  Baltimore  30th  October,  and  you  can  have  no 
idea  of  the  agitation  which  my  arrival  occasioned.  From  New 
Hampshire  to  Georgia  (an  extent  of  1500  miles),  every  news- 
paper was  filled  with  applause  or  abuse. 

My  property  in  this  country  has  been  taken  care  of  by  my 
friends,  and  is  now  worth  six  thousand  pounds  sterling;  which 
put  in  the  funds  will  bring  me  £400  sterling  a  year. 

Remember  me  in  friendship  and  affection  to  your  wife  and 
family,  and  in  the  circle  of  our  friends. 

Yours  in  friendship, 

THOMAS  PAINE. 

With  respect  to  the  course  which  Mr.  Paine  intended  for 
the  future  to  pursue,  he  says: — 

exclaim.  Well,  my  dear  fellow  biped,  I'll  tell  you  one  thing  you  do  most 
assuredly  feel  to  be  true;  and  you  know  it  to  be  true,  as  sure  as  you  are  ca- 
pable of  the  slightest  connection  of  ideas.  It  is  this.  The  present  method 
of  reforming  the  world,  has,  since  the  most  barbarous  age,  never  done  aught 
but  make  it  a  great  deal  worse.  Are  people  more  honest  or  less  gallant  now 
than  they  ever  were  ?  And  if  civilized  nations  are  not  quite  so  cruel,  especi- 
ally in  war  time,  as  are  savages,  is  not  that  clearly  traceable  to  science  and 
art?  Show  me  where  man  is  least  cruel,  and  I  will  show  you  where  "super- 
naturalism,"  the  synonym  for  ignorance,  and  the  very  basis  of  "virtue." 
principle,  and  moral  ism,  has  lost  the  most  ground,  and  where  science  and  art 
nave  gained  the  moat. 


PERIOD   THIRD.  73 

"  I  have  no  occasion  to  ask,  nor  do  I  intend  to  accept,  any 
place  or  office  in  the  government. 

"  There  is  none  it  could  give  me  that  would  in  any  way  be 
equal  to  the  profits  I  could  make  as  an  author  (for  I  have  an 
established  fame  in  the  literary  world),  could  I  reconcile  it  to 
my  principles  to  make  money  by  my  politics  or  my  religion ;  I 
must  be  in  everything  as  I  have  ever  been,  a  disinterested 
volunteer;  my  proper  sphere  of  action  is  on  the  common  floor 
of  citizenship,  and  to  honest  men  I  give  my  hand  and  my  heart 
freely. 

"  I  have  some  manuscript  works  to  publish  of  which  I  shall 
give  proper  notice,  and  some  mechanical  affairs  to  bring  for- 
ward, that  will  employ  all  my  leisure  time." 

From  Washington,  Mr.  Paine  went  to  New  York,  and  put 
up  at  the  City  Hotel,  where  the  mayor  and  De  Witt  Clinton 
called  on  him;  and,  notwithstanding  the  influence  of  the  emis- 
saries of  superstition  and  their  dupes,  he  was  honored  with  a 
public  dinner  by  a  most  respectable  and  numerous  party ;  and 
it  is  worthy  of  remark  that  Cheetham,  then  editor  of  a  demo- 
cratic daily  paper,  was  particularly  officious  in  helping  to  make 
the  arrangements. 

In  respect  to  Cheetham's  fictions  about  the  slovenliness  of  Mr. 
Paine,  if  there  had  been  any  truth  in  his  assertions,  would  not 
his  most  intimate  friends,  such  as  De  Witt  Clinton,  the  mayor 
of  New  York,  and  Mr.  Jarvis,  have  noticed  it?  The  truth 
about  this  is,  that  Mr.  Paine,  though  always  clean,  was  as  care- 
less in  his  dress  as  were  Napoleon  and  Frederic  the  Great;  and 
almost  as  lavish  of  his  snuff.  We  have  the  positive  and  very 
respectable  testimony  of  Mr.  J«hn  Fellows,  that  Mr.  Paiiie's 
slovenliness  went  no  further  than  this. 

But  the  sun  of  liberty  had  now  so  evidently  passed  meri- 
dian in  America  that  most  of  the  leading  politicians  of  the  day 
considered  it  for  their  interests  to  turn  their  backs  on  Mr. 
Paine;  this  threw  the  great  martyr  to  the  cause  of  freedom 
into  the  society  of  a  class  of  people  with  better  hearts,  and 
except  in  respect  of  political  gambling  and  fraud,  with  sounder 
heads. 

Among  this  class  was  a  respectable  tradesman,  a  blacksmith 
and  veterinary  surgeon,  of  the  name  of  Carver.  When  a  boy 
he  had  known  Paine,  who  also  recollected  him  by  some  little 
services  which  Carver  reminded  him  that  he  had  performed  for 
him  at  Lewes,  in  Sussex,  England;  such,  for  instance,  as 


74  PERIOD  THIRD. 

saddling  his  horse  for  him.  Mr.  Carver  was  comfortably  situ- 
ated, and  was  honest  and  independent  enough  to  openly  avow 
the  religious  opinions  of  the  author  of  the  "  Age  of  Reason." 
Paine  boarded  at  his  house  some  time  before  going  to  live  at 
New  Rochelle. 

In  a  fit  of  anger,  however,  the  unsuspicious  Mr.  Carver  after- 
wards became  the  tool  of  Cheetham;  "  a  circumstance  which  he 
(Carver)  sorely  regretted  to  the  day  of  his  death." 

I  once  met  him  at  a  celebration  of  Paine's  birth-day,  and 
shall  never  forget  the  anxiety  which  the  venerable  old  gentle- 
man exhibited  to  do  away  with  the  wrong  impression  which 
the  great  libeller  of  Mr.  Paine  had  betrayed  him  into  making 
on  the  public  mind.  The  circumstances  were,  in  short,  these  : 
Carver  had  presented  a  bill  for  board  to  Mr.  Paine,  which  the 
latter  (who,  as  truly  generous  people  usually  are,  was  very 
economical)  considered  exhorbitant,  and,  therefore,  hastily  pro- 
posed paying  off-hand,  and  having  nothing  more  to  do  with 
Carver.  Carver  would  probably  not  have  presented  any  bill  at 
all,  had  he  not  been,  just  then,  in  rather  straitened  circum- 
stances, and  at  the  same  time  aware  that  Mr.  Paine  was  in 
affluence.  He  got  into  a  passion  at  the  manner  in  which  Mr. 
Paine  treated  his  claim,  wrote  him  some  angry  letters,  and  un- 
fortunately kept  copies  of  them;  which  Cheetham,  without 
letting  him  know  what  use  he  intended  to  make  of  them,  man- 
aged to  get  hold  of  and  publish  after  Mr.  Paine's  death,  though 
the  difficulty  which  elicited  them  had  been  immediately  and 
amicably  adjusted  between  the  parties  concerned. 

This  piece  of  chicanery,  however,  cost  Cheetham  a  conviction 
for  libel  on  Madame  Bonneville,  who  had  been,  though  only  by 
inuendo,  mentioned  in  the  letters  aforesaid,  in  a  manner  which 
society,  in  its  present  state  of  wisdom,  pleases  to  consider  scan- 
dalous. 

When  Mr.  Paine  went  to  New  Rochelle,  he  boarded  with 
Mr.  Purdy,  who  lived  on  his  farm.  He  offered  Madame  Bon- 
neville and  her  two  sons  his  small  farm  at  Bordentown.  But 
that  rural  retreat  was  so  different  from  Paris,  that  she  chose  to 
remain  in  New  York,  where  she  taught  French  occasionally, 
but  was  almost  wholly  supported  by  Mr.  Paine. 

Madame  Bonneville,  though  generally  amiable,  sometimes 
contracted  debts  which  Mr.  Paine  conceived  unnecessary.  She 
furthermore,  says  Mr.  Vale,  "  did  not  scruple  to  send  bills  in  to 
him  which  he  had  not  sanctioned."  To  check  which  propensity, 


PERIOD  THIRD.  75 

Mr.  Paine  once  allowed  himself  to  be  sued  by  a  Mr.  Wilburn 
for  a  debt  of  thirty -five  dollars  for  her  board;  but  after  non- 
suiting the  plaintiff,  he  paid  the  debt.  As  a  proof  that  there 
was  never  any  serious  quarrel  between  Mr.  Paine  and  Madame 
Bonneville,  that  lady,  her  husband  and  family  were,  as  we  shall 
presently  see,  Mr.  Paine's  principal  legatees. 

To  oblige  his  friends,  Mr.  Paine  after  a  while  left  his  farm 
at  New  Rochelle  and  went  back  to  Carver's  to  board;  where  he 
remained  till  he  took  up  his  residende  at  the  house  of  Mr. 
Jarvis,  the  celebrated  painter,  who  relates  the  following  anec- 
dote of  his  guest : 

"One  afternoon  a  very  old  lady,  dressed  in  a  large  scarlet 
cloak,  knocked  at  the  door  and  inquired  for  Thomas  Paine. 
Mr.  Jarvis  told  her  he  was  asleep.  '  I  am  very  sorry,'  she  said, 
'for  that,  for  I  want  to  see  him  very  particularly.'  Thinking 
it  a  pity  to  make  an  old  woman  call  twice,  Mr.  Jarvis  took  her 
into  Paine's  bed-room  and  waked  him.  He  rose  upon  one  elbow, 
and  then,  with  an  expression  of  eye  that  staggered  the  old 
woman  back  a  step  or  two,  he  asked — '  What  do  you  want  ?' — 
'Is  your  name  Paine?' — 'Yes.'  'Well  then,  I  come  from 
Almighty  God  to  tell  you,  that  if  you  do  not  repent  of  your 
sins  and  believe  in  our  blessed  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  you  will 

be  damned,  and  ' '  Poh,  poh,  it  is  not  true.  You  were 

not  sent  with  such  an  impertinent  message.  Jarvis,  make  her 
go  away.  Pshaw,  he  would  not  send  such  a  foolish  old  woman 
as  you  about  with  his  messages.  Go  away.  Go  back.  Shut 
the  door.  The  old  lady  raised  both  her  hands,  kept  them  so, 
and  without  saying  another  word,  walked  away  in  mute  aston- 
ishment." 

In  1807,  Mr.  Paine,  now  in  the  seventieth  year  of  his  age, 
removed  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Hitt,  a  baker,  in  Broom e-street. 
Whilst  here  he  published  "  An  Examination  of  the  Passages  in 
the  New  Testament,  quoted  from  the  Old,  and  called  Prophecies 
of  the  Coming  of  Jesus  Christ." 

Mr.  Paine  lived  in  Partition-street  successively ;  and  after- 
wards in  Greenwich-street;  but  becoming  too  feeble  to  be  thus 
moving  about  among  boarding-houses,  Madame  Bonneville,  in 
May,  1809,  hired  for  his  accommodation  a  small  house  in  Col- 
umbia-street, where  she  attended  on  him  till  his  death. 

Mr.  Paine  had  moved  from  house  to  house,  as  we  have  seen, 
not  because  he  had  not  ample  resources,  but,  partly  to  oblige  his 
friends,  and  partly  for  the  variety  it  afforded,  partly  because  it 


76  PERIOD  THIRD. 

suited  his  plain  and  simple  habits,  and  partly  because,  like  most 
old  people,  he  had  become  a  little  too  frugal. 

Perceiving  his  end  approaching,  Mr.  Paine  apjlied  to  Willit 
Hicks,  an  influential  preacher  of  the  Society  of  Friends,  for 
permission  to  be  buried  in  their  cemetery.  Mr.  Hicks  laid  the 
proposition  before  the  members  of  his  meeting,  who,  to  their 
eternal  disgrace,  returned  a  negative  answer. 

Of  course  the  author  of  "  Age  of  Reason,"  was  now  beset  by 
the  emissaries  of  superstition.  The  clergy  themselves  not  being 
aware  of  the  momentous,  eternal,  and  impregnable  materialistic 
truth  which  the  folly  they  teach  encrusts,  were  panic-struck  at 
finding  the  battery  of  reason,  which  had  proved  so  powerful, 
under  Paine's  management,  against  kings,  aimed  at  them,  and 
by  the  same  skilful  engineer.  They  therefore  spared  no  pains 
which  malice  and  the  mean  cowardice  which  a  "consciousness 
of  guilt"  inspires,  could  invent,  to  get  up  some  show  of  ma- 
terials, out  of  which  to  manufacture  a  recantation,  But  not 
the  least  particle  of  any  proof  of  what  they  sought  did  they 
obtain ;  all  the  pious  tales  with  which  they  have  insulted  the 
world  on  the  subject,  are  sheer  fabrications.  Yet  the  Christian 
judge  who  sentenced  Cheetham  for  libel  on  account  of  one  of 
these  wretched  impositions,  did  not  blush,  says  Mr.  Vale,  to 
"  compliment "  that  arch  impostor  for  having  by  the  very  act 
for  which  he  was  legally  compelled  to  condemn  him  to  pay 
"heavy  damages/'  produced  a  work  useful  to  religion  !  * 

Not  long  before  his  death,  Mr.  Paine,  in  the  course  of  con- 
versation with  his  friend  Jarvis,  at  whose  house  he  then  was, 
observed:  "  Now  I  am  in  health,  and  in  perfect  soundness  of 
mind;  now  is  the  time  to  express  my  opinion."  He  then 
solemnly  declared  that  his  views,  as  set  forth  in  his  theological 
writings,  remained  the  same. 

The  late  Dr.  Manly,  on  the  occasion  of  my  calling  his  atten- 
tion to  an  article  in  an  English  Encyclopedia,  which  conveyed 
the  idea  that  he  testified  to  Paine's  recantation,  assured  me 
that  the  author  of  "  The  Age  of  Reason"  "did  not  recant;"  and 
the  Doctor  seemed  not  over  pleased  that  his  words  had  been 

*  From  a  large  pamphlet,  entitled  "  Grant  Thorburn  and  Thomas  Paine." 
recently  put  forth  gratis  by  Mr.  Oliver  White,  I  learn  that  a  religious  pub- 
lisher in  New  York  has,  within  a  few  years  past,  had  to  pay  damages  for  a 
malicious  article  aimed  at  the  character  of  Paine,  but  which  incidentally  hit 
somebody  else;  which  article,  it  is  but  justice  to  the  publisher's  memory 
(for  he  is  now  dead)  to  say,  he  wa*  betrayed  into  publishing,  probably  with- 
out any  ill  intention  on  his  part. 


PERIOD   THIRD.  77 

tortured  into  giving  the  impression  they  did.  He  believed 
that  Mr.  Paine's  last  words  were, — "  I  don't  wish  to  hear  any- 
thing more  about  that  man,"  in  answer  to  the  question,  "Do 
you  wish  to  believe  in  Jesus  Christ1?"  I  think  I  remember  Dr. 
Manly's  words  correctly,  though  Mr.  Vale  says  that  the  answer 
of  Paine,  as  reported  by  Dr.  Manly,  was, — "  I  have  no  wish  to 
believe  on  the  subject."  It  will  be  perceived,  however,  that 
there  is  no  material  difference;  and  that  Dr.  Manly  might,  on 
two  several  occasions,  and  at  wide  intervals,  have  stated  the 
answer  in  both  ways;  either  of  which  conveys  essentially  the 
same  meaning. 

On  one  occasion,  a  Methodist  preacher  obtruded  himself  on 
Mr.  Paine,  and  abruptly  told  him  that  "unless  he  repented  of 
his  unbelief,  he  would  be  damned."  To  which  the  almost  dying 
man,  partly  rising  in  his  bed,  indignantly  answered,,  that  if  he 
was  able,  he  would  immediately  put  him  out  of  the  room.  This 
scene  is  related  by  Mr.  Willit  Hicks,  of  whom  mention  has 
already  been  made. 

The  clergy  condescended,  in  their  desperation  to  blacken  the 
character,  and  destroy  the  influence  of  him  who  they  feared 
would  otherwise  put  an  end  to  the  craft  by  which  they  had 
their  wealth,  to  make  use  of  means  which,  in  pity  to  poor 
human  nature,  would  I  gladly  consign  to  oblivion,  and  shall, 
therefore,  mention  only  some  prominent  cases.  I  have  named 
Cheetham,  as  he  was  a  public  character — an  editor.  But  I 
shall  in  mercy  let  the  names  of  the  private  individuals  who 
were  the  tools  which  the  priesthood  made  use  of  in  this  con- 
nection, sink  beneath  contempt;  in  fact,  I  feel  not  altogether 
guiltless  of  sacrilege,  in  placing  the  name  of  any  one  of  Thomas 
Paine's  slanderers  in  the  same  volume  which  contains  his. 

It  has  herein  been  indubitably  proven  that  the  first  part  of 
"The  Age  of  Reason,"  the  first  of  Paine's  "infidel"  productions, 
be  it  remembered,  was  written  in  1793;  and  that  the  second 
part  was  written  some  time  thereafter.  Franklin  died  in  1790. 
Yet  the  "American  Tract  Society"  has  not  scrupled  to  assert, 
in  a  tract  entitled  "  Don't  Unchain  the  Tiger,"  that  "  When 
an  infidel  production  was  submitted — probably  by  Paine — to 
Benjamin  Franklin,  in  manuscript,  he  returned  it  to  the  author, 
with  a  letter,  from  which  the  following  is  extracted:  "/  would 
advise  you  not  to  attempt  UNCHAINING  THE  TIGER,  but  to  turn  this 
piece  before  it  is  seen  by  any  other  person."  "If  men  are  so 
wicked  with  religion,  what  would  they  be  WITHOUT  it  ?" 


78  PERIOD  THIRD. 

" Think"  said  he  to  Paine,  in  a  letter,  to  which  allusion  has 
been  made,  tlhow  many  inconsiderate  and  inexperienced  youth 
of  both  sexes  there  are,  who  have  need  of  the  motives  of  religion 
to  restrain  them  from  vice,  to  support  their  virtue,  and  retain 
them  in  the  practice  of  it  till  it  becomes  habitual." 

It  will  be  perceived  that  the  above  pretended  extract  is  given 
as  though  it  was  verbatim;  though  from  a  letter  which,  in  a 
very  circuitous  manner,  and  one  most  ingeniously  calculated  to 
deceive  is,  after  all,  confessed  to  be  only  "probably"  written. 
The  concluding  portion  of  the  extract  is  given  only  after  con- 
siderable pious  dust  has  been  most  artistically  thrown  in  the 
eyes  of  the  more  prayerful  than  careful  reader.  Here,  the 
author  of  M  Don't  Unchain  the  Tiger,"  resolves  no  longer  to  let 
"  I  dare  not,  wait  upon  I  would,"  bnt  fully  declares,  though  in 
a  manner  that  would  do  credit  to  the  most  trickish  Jesuit,  that 
ever  mentally  reserved  the  truth,  that  the  "  letter  to  which 
mention  has  been  made,"  was  written  by  FRANKLIN  to  Paine, 
evidently,  as  all  can  see,  who  have  mastered  the  second  rule  of 
arithmetic,  three  years  after  the  death  of  the  writer."  Yet  Pro- 
testants laugh  at  Catholics  for  swallowing  transubstantiation. 

How  firmly  did  they  who  put  forth  "Don't  Unchain  the 
Tiger,"  believe  in  revelation  1  How  much  faith  had  they,  in 
the  truth  of  a  book  wherein  it  is  printed,  that  "  God  "  had  de- 
clared— "Liars  shall  have  their  part  in  the  lake  that  burns 
with  fire  and  brimstone  1" 

Mark  this  "probably"  well.  There  is  in  it  such  an  exquisite- 
ness  of  all  that  is  mean,  cowardly,  mendacious,  and  contemp- 
tible. . 

If  the  writer  of  "  Don't  Unchain  the  Tiger"  ever  saw  any 
letter  from  which  he  extracted  what  he  pretends  he  has,  did 
not  that  letter  inform  him,  past  all  "probably,"  and  before  he 
made  the  first  part  of  the  extract,  BY  whom,  and  TO  whom,  it 
was  written  1 

Oh,  ye  priests !  How  low  are  you  fallen !  What  lower  depths 
can  human  degradation  touch  ?  How  much  smaller  can  you, 
your  own  contemptible  selves,  suppose  the  intellectual  calibre 
of  your  poor  dupes  to  be  ?  What  satisfaction  can  you  feel  in 
the  reverence  of  those  whose  understandings  you  thus  estimate] 

Compare  the  present  position,  in  the  social  organism,  of  your 
sincere  disciples,  with  that  which  they  occupied  when  what  you 
teach  was  the  highest  which  man  was  prepared  to  receive. 

But  unless  my  memory  serves  me  very  badly,  this  "  Tiger  * 


PERIOD  THIRD.  79 

tract  was  originally  published  witlwut  the  "probably;"  and 
unequivocally  named  the  "  Age  of  Reason."  I  recollect  well, 
that  about  twenty -five  years  ago,  a  committee,  one  of  whom  was 
the  famous  infidel  lecturer,  the  late  Mr.  Benjamin  Offen,  called 
at  the  Tract  Society's  agency,  and  pointed  out  how  impossible 
it  was  that  this  "  Tiger  "  publication  which  hailed  from  thence, 
could  be  true ;  and  I  am  strongly  impressed  that  this  miserable 
"  probably  "  has  been  the  result. 

Clergymen,  it  is  neither  in  malice  nor  anger,  but  with  feelings 
of  unfeigned  sorrow  and  pity,  that  I  use  such  language  to  and 
respecting  you.  I  have  not  a  wish  that  would  not  be  gratified, 
were  you  at  this  moment  at  the  head  of  mankind,  teaching  the 
knowable;  and  until  you  are  worthily  reinstated  in  your  rightful 
— your  natural  position  in  the  social  organism,  violence,  fraud, 
humbug — in  fine,  demagogism,  will  there  revel,  and  you  will  be 
its  degraded  purveyor.  How  do  you  relish  the  impudence  with 
which  demagogism  now  snubs  you  back  to  the  "  supernatural," 
whenever  you  dare  utter  a  practical  word  ? 

I  could  fill  twenty  pages  or  more  with  extracts,  many  of  them 
documentary,  from  previous  histories  of  Paine,  going  to  prove 
that  the  author  of  "  The  Age  of  Reason  "  never  recanted.  But 
can  it  be  possible  that  those  who  possess  a  spark  of  reason,  even, 
can  consider  the  matter  of  the  slightest  consequence  1  The 
question  of  the  truth  or  falsehood  of  a  proposition  is  a  matter 
for  the  judgment  to  decide.  Is  the  judgment  of  a  dying  man 
more  clear  than  that  of  a  perfectly  healthy  one !  Was  there 
ever  an  instance  known,  of  a  human  biped  being  so  big  a  fool, 
as  to  go  to  a  dying  man  for  advice  in  preference  to  going  to  him 
for  it  when  he  was  in  health,  where  any  known  value  was  con- 
cerned? The  thing  is  too  absurd  to  waste  another  word  uponj 
and  I  have  noticed  it  at  all,  only  to  shew  to  what  meanness 
modern  priests  will  stoop;  to  what  miserable  shifts  the  corrupt 
hangers  on  to  the  superanuated  and  effete,  are  at  length  reduced. 
At  this  day  the  wretched  fortune-teller  who  deals  out  super- 
naturalism  by  the  fifty  cents  worth,  may  justly  feel  proud  by 
the  side  of  the  archbishop — by  the  side  of  the  successors  of  those 
who,  before  the  dawn  of  science,  taught  the  highest  of  which 
man  was  capable  of  receiving,  thus  starting  civilization  into 
existence,  and  justly  becoming  mightier  than  kings.  But  the 
time  is  fast  approaching  when  they  will  teach  the  knowable  and 
efficient,  and  resume  their  natural  position,  that  of  the  head  of 
the  social  organism.  Till  when,  confusion  will  keep  high  noli- 


80  PERIOO  THIRD. 

day,  folly  be  rampant,  ignorance  supreme,  and  superstition  and 
demagogism  will  be  rife.  The  case  is  as  clear  as  this: — Man 
come  into  the  world  ignorant,  and  of  course  needs  teaching. 
Yet  what 'has  been  palmed  off  on  man  for  elective  government, 
confessedly  but  represents  him.  The  clergy  professedly  teach  him  ; 
and  of  course,  when  they  teach  him  right,  as  they  will  soon  find 
out  that  it  is  immeasurably  more  for  their  own  advantage  to  do, 
than  it  is  to  teach  him  wrong,  all  will  be  well.  The  human 
race  will,  from  that  point  in  teaching,  rapidly  develop  into  a  har- 
moniously regulated  organism  ;  a  grand  being,  or  God,  to  whom 
all  the  conceivable  and  desirable  will  be  possible.  Each  indivi- 
dual will  act  as  freely  as  do  the  wheels  and  springs  of  a  perfect, 
because  scientifically  and  artistically,  and  harmoniously  re- 
gulated time-keeper. 

At  whatever  stage  of  development  caucus-and-ballot-boxism 
takes  charge  of  man,  it  assumes  that  he  is,  in  the  main,  wise 
enough  already,  that  the  majority  is  the  fountain-head  of  both 
wisdom  and  power;  that  rulers  are  legitimately  but  the  servants 
of  the  ruled.  What  balderdash. 

The  only  government,  except  that  of  despotism  or  humbug, 
that  man  ever  has  had,  now  has,  or  ever  can  have,  was,  is  and 
must  be,  under  simple  nature,  that  of  science  and  art — that  of 
teaching. 

"  Let  me  make  the  people's  songs,  and  I  care  not  who  makes 
their  laws,"  said  Napoleon.  "  Let  me  make  the  people's  cradle- 
hymns,  and  Sunday-schools  catechisms,"  say  I,  "and  I  will 
defy  all  the  power  which  can  be  brought  against  me  to  supplant 
me  in  their  government,  except  by  adopting  my  method." 

And  when  the  people's  cradle-hymns  and  Sunday  school  cate- 
chisms are  composed  by  those  who  qualify  themselves  to  lead, 
direct,  or  govern  mankind  by  science  and  art,  and  who  derive 
human  law  from  the  whole  body  of  the  knowable,  instead  of 
from  the  wild  regions  of  the  speculative,  and  from  the  arbitrary 
subjective,  the  world  will  be  delivered  from  religious,  political, 
social,  and  moral  quackery  ;  but  not  till  then.  And  to  whom- 
soever says  "  lo  here,"  "  lo  there"  or  lo  anywhere  except  to  the 
science  of  sciences  and  art  of  arts  of  how  to  be  free,  I  say,  and 
appeal  for  my  justification,  to  the  entire  past, — you  are  deceived 
or  a  deceiver. 

If  the  world  was  not  deluded  with  the  idea  that  reason  and 
free  discussion  are  the  only  means  that  are  available  against 
priestcraft  and  statecraft,  it  would  long  since  have  discovered 


PERIOD  THIRD.  81 

and  applied  the  true  remedy,  viz.:  to  seize  the  citadel  of  the 
infant  mind — of  education;  and  thus  institute  a  religion  and 
government  of  science  and  art,  in  place  of  a  religion  of  mystery 
and  a  government  of  despotism  and  humbug.  False  religion 
and  its  correlate — bad  government,  must  be  prevented.  What- 
ever religious  or  governmental  notions  are  bred  into  man,  can 
never  to  any  efficient  extent,  be  got  out  of  him. 

Priestcraft  and  statecraft,  in  England  and  the  United  States, 
would  like  nothing  better  than  an  assurance,  that  mankind's 
reformers  would  henceforth  confine  their  efforts  to  reason  and  free 
discussion,  and  to  the  furtherance  of  education  on  its  present  plan 
in  all  our  schools  and  colleges.  Priestcraft  and  statecraft  would 
then  forever  be  as  safe  as  would  a  well  regulated  army  among 
undisciplined  savages,  who  did  nothing  but  find  fault  with  their 
oppressors;  and  to  the  various  cliques  of  which  savages,  the 
regulars  would  suggest  as  many  various  plans  for  their  own  (the 
regular's)  overthrow,  for  them  (the  savages),  to  discuss  over  and 
divide  upon. 

In  one  of  the  most  purely  monarchical  countries  in  all  Europe 
(Germany)  common  school  and  collegiate  education  prominently 
farm  one  of  the  government's  pet  projects. 

In  England,  where  the  wheels  of  the  state  machinery 
mutually  neutralize  each  other's  action,  neither  monarchs  nor 
ecclesiastics  can  do  aught  but  keep  themselves  miserably  rich, 
and  the  great  body  of  the  people  wretchedly  poor. 

Free  discussion  and  reason  have  done  what  little  good  in 
church  and  state  affairs  it  was  their  function  to  do,  except  as 
will  be  hereinafter  mentioned/  and  they  are  now  in  both  Eng- 
land and  the  United  States,  but  the  safety-valve  which  prevents 
the  boiler  of  the  ecclesiastical  steam-engine  from  bursting;  and 
secures  political  despotism,  swindling,  and  corruption,  from 
having  to  do  anything  but  change  hands. 

Reason  and  free  discussion  are  now  the  fifth  wheel  of  the  car 
of  progress,  whose  useless  noise  and  comparatively  singular 
appearance  diverts  attention  from  the  slow;  nay,  backward 
movement,  of  the  other  four  wheels,  and  thus  prevents  any 
change  for  the  better  being  made. 

If,  on  the  continent  of  Europe,  monarchs  and  the  Pope  forbid 
political  and  religious  free  discussion,  it  is  not  because  they  are 
afraid  that  the  first  will  lead  to  liberty,  or  the  second  to  practi- 
cal wisdom.  They  are  perfectly  aware  that  free  talking  but 
disturbs  political  and  religious  aliairs;  and  would  only  displace 


82  PERIOD  THIRD. 

themselves  who  are  well  seated  in,  and  have  grown  fat  on, 
religious  and  political  abuse,  to  make  way  for  an  ungorged 
shoal  of  political  and  ecclesiastical  leeches. 

Passing  lightly  over  the  pitiable  trash  which  in  the  United 
States  more  than  in  any  other  country  is  palmed  off  on  the 
multitude  for  knowledge,  look  at  our  higher  literature.  See 
how  it  truckles  to  the  low,  and  narrow,  and  unscientific  views 
which  confessedly  had  their  rise  when  man  was  a  mere  savage. 
Where,  throughout  the  United  States,  is  the  magazine  which 
has  the  liberal  and  independent  tone  of  the  Westminster  Re- 
view, which  hails  from  the  capital  of  monarchy -governed  and 
confessedly  church-taxed  England1?  'The  most  independent 
magazine  of  which  the  United  States  can  boast,  is  the  "Atlantic 
Monthly;"  but  I  have  strong  misgivings  as  to  whether  they 
whose  monied  interests  are  staked  in  it  will  thank  me,  or  would 
thank  any  one,  for  such  praise. 

But  the  orthodox  clergy  are  already,  owing  almost  wholly  to 
what  mere  fractional  science  and  art  have  done,  the  laughing- 
stock of  nearly  the  entire  scientific  world,  and  the  head-elf  rgy 
are  writhing  under  the  tortures  of  self -con  tempt,  in  such  agony, 
that  the  main  drift  of  their  preaching  is  to  try,  without  arousing 
their  dupes,  to  let  the  knowing  ones  (whom  curiosity,  interest, 
or  a  desperate  attempt  to  dispel  Sabbatical  ennui  may  have 
brought  into  their  congregations)  see  that  they  are  not  the  fools 
which  they,  for  bread  and  butter's  sake,  pretend  to  be. 

The  following  extract  from  a  letter  of  Baron  Humboldt  to 
his  friend  Yarnhagen  Yon  Ense,  is  a  fair  sample  of  the  contempt 
in  which  the  apostles  of  mystery  are  held  by  men  of  science: 

BKBLIN,  March  tl,  18JX. 

My  dear  friend,  so  happily  restored  to  me !  It  is  a  source  of 
infinite  joy  to  me  to  learn,  from  your  exquisite  letter,  that  the 
really  very  delightful  society  of  the  Princess's  has  benefited 
you  physically,  and  therefore,  as  I  should  say,  in  my  criminal 
materialism,  mentally  also.  Such  a  society,  blown  together 
chiefly  from  the  same  fashionable  world  of  Berlin  (somewhat 
flat  and  stale),  immediately  takes  a  new  shape  in  the  house  of 
Princess  Pueckler.  It  is  like  the  spirit  which  should  breathe 
life  into  the  state ;  the  material  seems  ennobled. 

I  still  retain  your  "Christliche  Glaubenslehre,"  [a  celebrated 
work  on  the  Christian  Dogma,  by  Dr.  David  Friedrich  Strauss] 
I  who  long  ago  in  Potsdam,  was  so  delighted  with  Strauss'? 


PERIOD  THIRD.  83 

Life  of  the  Saviour.*  One  learns  from  it  not  only  what  he 
does  not  believe,  which  is  less  new  to  me,  but  rather  what  kind 
of  things  have  been  believed  and  taught  by  those  black  coats 
(parsons)  who  know  how  to  enslave  mankind  anew,  yea,  who 
are  putting  on  the  armour  of  their  former  adversaries. 

But  a  still  more  encouraging  aspect  of  the  case  is,  that  a 
knowledge  of  the  great  truth  is  rapidly  spreading,  that  all  in 
the  human  connection  is  a  vast  material  organism,  the  possible 
modifications  of  which  are  indicated  by  the  organ  of  its  highest 
consciousness, — man;  and  that  the  whole  family  of  man  is  a 
grand  social  organism  (however,  as  yet,  unjointed),  the  well- 
being  of  every  part  of  which,  is  indespeiisa'ble  to  that  of  every 
other  part.  But  more  of  this,  shortly. 

Mr.  Paine  suffered  greatly  during  his  Isst  illness  (his  disease 
being  dropsy,  attended  with  cough  and  constant  vomiting),  yet 
his  mental  faculties  remained  unimpaired  to  the  last.  On  the 
8th  of  June,  1809,  about  nine  o'clock  in  the  forenoon,  he  ex- 
pired, almost  without  a  struggle. 

I  have,  as  the  reader  has  seen,  noticed  some  of  the  little 
foibles  and  eccentricities  of  Mr.  Paine;  not,  however,  that  they 
were  of  any  account,  but  simply  because  they  attest  that  he  was 
not  superhumanly  perfect;  that  he  was  not  that  ridiculous  cross 
between  man  and  "  God,"  which  the  biographers  of  Washington 
have  placed  him  in  the  position  of  appearing  to  be. 

Lovers  are  sure  to  have  their  petty  quarrels,  else  they  would 
be  indifferent  to  each  other;  and  when  prejudice  shall  be  done 
away  with,  mankind  will  love  Thomas  Paine  none  the  less  for 
the  human  frailties  which  were  just  sufficient  to  show  that  he 
belonged  to  human  nature. 

To-day  after  Mr.  Paine's  death,  his  remains  were  taken  to 
New  Rochelle,  attended  by  a  few  friends,  and  there  buried  on 
his  farm;  and  a  plain  stone  was  erected,  with  the  following  in- 
scription : — 

THOMAS  PAINE, 

AUTHOR  OP  "COMMON  SENSE." 

Died  June  8,  1809,  aged  seventy-two  years  and  five  months. 

*  Humboldt's  "Letters  to  Varnhagen  Von  Ense,"  have  just  been  pub- 
lished by  Messrs.  Rudd  £  Carleton :  and  Strauss'  "  Life  of  the  Saviour,  or, 
to  giva  the  work  its  full  title,  "The  Life  of  Jesus  Critically  Examined,"  if 


84  PERIOD  THIRD. 

Mr.  William  Corbett  afterward  removed  the  bones  of  Mr. 
Paine  to  England. 

In  1839,  through  the  exertions  of  a  few  friends  of  the  liberal 
cause,  among  whom  Mr.  G.  Vale  was  very  active,  a  neat  monu- 
ment was  erected  over  the  grave  of  Mr.  Paine.  Mr.  Frazee, 
an  eminent  artist,  generously  volunteered  to  do  the  sculpture. 
This  monument  cost  about  thirteen  hundred  dollars.  On  it  is 
carved  a  representation  of  the  head  of  Mr.  Paine,  underneath 
which  ia  this  inscription : — 

THOMAS  PAINE, 

AUTHOR   OP 

"COMMON  SENSE." 

Reader,  did  it  ever  occur  to  you,  that  all  the  crrmes  which  an 
individual  can  commit,  are  in  reality  summed  up  in  the  word 
misfortune  ?  Such  is  the  fact.  Society,  therefore,  not  altogether 
without  reason,  however  regardless  of  justice,  considers  nothing 
more  disgraceful  than  misfortune ;  and  hence  it  is,  that  of  all  the 
slanders  got  up  to  injure  the  reputation  of  Mr.  Paine,  and  thus 
prevent  his  influence,  none  have  been  more  industriously  circu- 
lated, and  none  have  proved  more  successful,  than  those  which 
i-epresented  him  as  being  in  extreme  poverty.  Without  further 
remark,  therefore,  I  shall  call  your  attention  to 

THE  WILL  OF  THOMAS  PAINE. 

The  People  of  the  State  of  New  York,  by  the  Grace  of  God,  Free 
and  Independent,  to  all  to  whom  these  presents  shall  come  or 
may  concern.  Send  Greeting: 

Know  ye  that  the  annexed  is  a  true  copy  of  the  will  of 
Thomas  Paine,  deceased,  as  recorded  in  the  office  of  our  sur- 
rogate, in  and  for  the  city  and  county  of  New  York.  In  tes- 
timony whereof,  we  have  caused  the  seal  of  office  of  our  said 
surrogate  to  be  hereunto  affixed.  Witness,  Silvanus  Miller, 
Esq.,  surrogate  of  said  county,  at  the  city  of  New  York,  the 
twelfth  day  of  July,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  one  thousand  eight 
hundred  and  nine,  and  of  our  independence  the  thirty-fourth. 

SILVANUS  MILLER. 

published  by  Calvin  Blanchard.  The  translation  is  by  Marian  Evans,  the 
accomplished  authoress  of  "Adam  Bede,"and  is  pronounced  by  Strauss  him- 
•eUf  to  be  most  elegantly  done  and  perfectly  correct. 


PERIOD  THIRD.  85 

The  last  will  and  testament  of  me,  the  subscriber,  Thomas 
Paine,  reposing  confidence  in  my  Creator  God,  and  in  no  other 
being,  for  I  know  of  no  other,  nor  believe  in  any  other,  I, 
Thomas  Paine,  of  the  State  of  New  York,  author  of  the  work 
entitled  "Common  Sense,"  written  in  Philadelphia,  in  1  75,  and 
published  in  that  city  the  beginning  of  January,  1776,  which 
awaked  America  to  a  Declaration  of  Independence,  on  the  fourth 
of  July  following,  which  was  as  fast  as  the  work  could  spread 
through  such  an  extensive  country ;  author  also  of  the  several 
numbers  of  the  "American  Crisis,"  thirteen  in  all,  published 
occasionally  during  the  progress  of  the  revolutionary  war — the 
last  is  on  the  peace  ;  author  also  of  the  "Rights  of  Man,"  parts 
the  first  and  second,  written  and  published  in  London,  in  1791 
and  1792  ;  author  also  of  a  work  on  religion,  "Age  of  Reason," 
parts  the  first  and  second.  N.B.  I  have  a  third  part  by  me  in 
manuscript,  and  an  answer  to  the  Bishop  of  Landaff ;  author 
also  of  a  work,  lately  published,  entitled  "Examination  of  the 
passages  in  the  New  Testament  quoted  from  the  Old,  and  called 
prophesies  concerning  Jesus  Christ,"  and  showing  that  there  are 
no  prophecies  of  any  such  person ;  author  also  of  several  other 
works  not  here  enumerated — "Dissertations  on  the  first  Princi- 
ples of  Government," — "Decline  and  Fall  of  the  English  System 
of  Finance," — "Agrarian  Justice,"  etc.,  etc.,  make  this  my  last 
will  and  testament,  that  is  to  say:  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my 
executors  hereinafter  appointed,  Walter  Morton  and  Thomas 
Addis  Emmet,  thirty  shares  I  hold  in  the  New  York  Phoenix 
Insurance  Company,  which  cost  me  1470  dollars,  they  are  worth 
now  upward  of  1500  dollars,  and  all  my  moveable  effects,  and 
also  the  money  that  may  be  in  my  trunk  or  elsewere  at  the  time 
of  my  decease,  paying  thereout  the  expenses  of  my  funeral,  in 
trust  as  to  the  said  shares,  moveables,  and  money,  for  Margai*et 
Brazier  Bonneville,  wife  of  Nichols  Bonneville,  of  Paris,  for  her 
own  sole  and  seperate  use,  and  at  her  own  disposal,  notwith- 
standing her  coverture.  As  to  my  farm  in  New  Rochelle,  I 
give,  devise,  and  bequeath  the  same  to  my  said  executors, 
Walter  Morton  and  Thomas  Addis  Emmet,  and  to  the  survivor 
of  them,  his  heirs  and  assigns  for  ever,  in  trust,  nevertheless,  to 
sell  and  dispose  of  the  north  side  thereof,  now  in  the  occupation 
of  Andrew  A.  Dean,  beginning  at  the  west  end  of  the  orchard 
and  running  in  a  line  with  the  land  sold  to  —  Coles,  to  the  end 
of  the  farm,  and  to  apply  the  money  arising  from  such  sale  as 
hereinafter  directed.  I  give  to  my  friends,  Walter  Morton,  of 


S6  PERIOD   THIRD. 

the  New  York  Phoenix  Insurance  Company,  and  Thomas  Addis 
Emmet,  counsellor-at-law,  late  of  Ireland,  two  hundred  dollars 
each,  and  one  hundred  dollars  to  Mrs.  Palmer,  widow  of  Elihu 
Palmer,  late  of  New  York,  to  be  paid  out  of  the  money  arising 
from  said  sale,  and  I  give  the  remainder  of  the  money  arising 
from  that  sale,  one  half  thereof  to  Clio  Bickman,  of  High  or 
Upper  Mary-la-bone  street,  London,  and  the  other  half  to 
Nicholas  Bonneville  of  Paris,  husband  of  Margaret  B.  Bonne- 
ville  aforesaid:  and  as  to  the  south  part  of  the  said  farm,  con- 
taining upward  of  one  hundred  acres,  in  trust,  to  rent  out  the 
same  or  otherwise  put  it  to  profit,  as  shall  be  found  most  advis- 
adle,  and  to  pay  the  rents  and  profits  thereof  to  the  said  Mar- 
garet B.  Bonneville,  in  trust  for  her  childern.  Benjamin 
Bonneville  and  Thomas  Bonneville,  their  education  and  main- 
tenance, until  they  come  to  the  age  of  twenty-one  years,  in 
order  that  she  may  bring  them  well  up,  give  them  good  and 
useful  learning,  and  instruct  them  in  their  duty  to  God,  and  the 
practice  of  morality,  the  rent  of  the  land  or  the  interest  of  the 
money  for  which  it  may  be  sold,  as  hereinafter  mentioned,  to  be 
employed  in  their  education.  And  after  the  youngest  of  the 
said  children  shall  have  arrived  at  the  age  of  twenty -one  years, 
in  further  trust  to  convey  the  same  to  the  said  children  share 
and  share  alike  in  fee  simple.  But  if  it  shall  be  thought  advis- 
able by  my  executors  and  executrix,  or  the  survivor  or  survivors 
of  them,  at  any  time  before  the  youngest  of  the  said  children 
shall  come  of  age,  to  sell  and  dispose  of  the  said  south  side  of 
the  said  farm,  in  that  case  I  hereby  authorize  and  empower  my 
said  executors  to  sell  and  dispose  of  the  same,  and  I  direct  that 
the  money  arising  from  such  sale  be  put  into  stock,  either  in  the 
United  States  bank  stock  or  New  York  Phoenix  Insurance 
company  stock,  the  interest  or  dividends  thereof  to  be  applied 
as  is  already  directed,  for  the  education  and  maintenance  of  the 
said  children:  and  the  principal  to  be  transferred  to  the  said 
children  or  the  survivor  of  them  on  his  or  their  coming  of  age. 
I  know  not  if  the  society  of  people  called  Quakers  admit  a 
person  to  be  buried  in  their  burymg-ground,  who  does  not  be- 
long to  their  society,  but  if  they  do,  or  will  admit  me,  I  would 
prefer  being  buried  there,  my  father  belonged  to  that  profession, 
and  I  was  partly  brought  up  in  it.  But  if  it  is  not  consistent 
with  their  rules  to  do  this,  I  desire  to  be  buried  on  my  farm  at 
New  Rochelle.  The  place  were  I  am  to  be  buried  to  be  a  square 
of  twelve  feet,  to  be  enclosed  with  rows  of  trees,  and  a  stone  or 


PEEIOD   THIRD.  87 

post  and  railed  fence,  with  a  head-stone  with  my  name  and  age 
engraved  upon  it,  author  of  "Common  Sense."  I  nominate, 
constitute,  and  appoint  Walter  Morton,  of  the  New  York  Phoe- 
nix Insurance  company,  and  Thomas  Addis  Emmet,  counsellor- 
at-law,  late  of  Ireland,  and  Margaret  B.  Bonne ville  my  executors 
and  executrix  to  this  my  last  will  and  testament,  requesting 
them  the  said  Walter  Morton  and  Thomas  Addis  Emmet,  that 
they  will  give  what  assistance  they  conveniently  can  to  Mrs. 
Bonneville,  and  see  that  the  children  be  well  brought  up.  Thus 
placing  confidence  in  their  friendship,  I  herewith  take  my  final 
leave  of  them  and  of  the  world.  I  have  lived  an  honest  and 
useful  life  to  mankind ;  my  time  has  been  spent  in  doing  good ; 
and  I  die  in  perfect  composure  and  resignation  to  the  will  of  my 
Creator  God.  Dated  this  eighteenth  day  of  January,  in  the 
year  one  thousand  eight  hundred  and  nine,  and  I  have  also 
signed  my  name  to  the  other  sheet  of  this  will  in  testimony  of 
its  being  a  part  thereof. 

THOMAS  PAINE.     (L.S.) 

Signed,  sealed,  and  published  and  declared  by  the  testator,  in 
our  presence,  who,  at  his  request,  and  in  the  presence  of  each 
other,  have  set  our  names  as  witnesses  thereto,  the  words 
"published  and  declared"  first  interlined. 

WILLIAM  KEESE, 
JAMES  ANGEVIES, 
CORNELIUS  BTDKB. 


CONCLUDING  APPLICATION. 


CONCLUDING  APPLICATION. 


I  HAVE  now,  so  far  as  I  can  discover,  recorded  all  the  facts 
in  relation  to  Thomas  Paine,  with  which  the  public  have  any 
eoncern.  I  have  even  repeated  some  things  (under  protest,  be 
it  remembered)  with  which  the  public  have  no  business  what- 
ever. 

But  the  most  important  part  of  the  task  which,  on  reference 
to  my  title-page,  it  will  be  perceived  that  I  undertook,  regains 
to  be  completed. 

Everyone  will  unquestionably  draw  their  own  condition 
from  facts  or  what  they  consider  such.  But  I  assure  all  whom 
it  may  concern,  that  I  should  not  consider  myself  justified  in 
troubling  them  with  my  views  on  matters  of  the  vast  impor- 
tance of  religion  or  highest  law,  and  government  or  social  science, 
had  I  not  devoted  to  these  subjects  long  years  of  assiduous  pre- 
paration; had  I  not,  rightly  or  wrongly,  systemized  facts ;  even 
now,  I  do  so  with  a  full  consciousness  of  my  need  of  vastly  more 
light. 

Facts,  separately  considered,  are  but  the  unconnected  links  of 
a  chain;  truth  is  the  chain  itself.  Facts,  in  themselves,  are 
worth  nothing;  it  is  only  the  truths  that  are  deducible  from 
them  through  their  systemization  that  is  of  use.  Brick,  and 
mortar,  and  beams,  are  facts;  entirely  useless,  however,  until 
systemized  into  an  edifice.  Every  man's  life  is  a  fact,  but  the 
lives  of  such  men  as  Rousseau,  Paine,  Coiate,  Luther,  and 
Fourier,  are  sublime  truths  which  are  to  help  to  give  to  the  lives 
of  the  individuals  of  our  race,  all  that  can  be  conceived  of  even 
"eternal"  value. 

Strictly  speaking,  all  authors  are,  like  Paine,  and  Rousseau, 
and  Comte,  heroes.  But  those  writers  who  merely  revamp,  or 
polish  up  old,  worn  out  ideas,  and  then  sell  them  back  again 
to  those  from  whom  they  stole,  or  borrowed,  or  begged  them, 
are  no  more  authors  than  they  are  manufactures  who  steal, 
borrow,  beg,  or  buy  for  next  to  nothing,  old  hats,  iron  them  over, 
and  sell  them  back  for  new  to  their  former  owners,  who  in  their 


CONCLUDING  APPLICATION.  89 

delight  to  find  how  truly  they  fit  their  heads,  do  not  suspect  the 
cheat.  It's  a  somewhat  difficult  thing  to  make  new  hats  fit 
heads.  It's  a  Herculean  task  to  make  new  ideas  fit  them.  It's 
next  to  impossible  to  make  new  habits  fit  mankind. 

The  American  Revolution,  of  which  Paine  was  the  "  author 
hero,"  and  the  French  Revolution,  of  which  Rousseau  was  the 
great  mover,  were,  as  I  trust  we  have  already  seen,  but  closely 
connected  incidents  in  the  grand  Revolution  which  began  with 
man's  instinctive  antagonism  to  all  which  stands  in  the  way  of 
the  perfect  liberty  which  nature  has,  by  one  and  the  same  act, 
given  him  both  the  desire  for,  and  the  assurance  of. 

All  which  exists  or  has  taken  place,  is  connected  with  all 
which  ever  has  existed,  or  will  exist  or  take  place;  and  unless 
the  historian  shows  that  connection,  so  far  as  it  has  a  percep- 
tible practical  bearing  history  becomes  but  a  mere  collection  of 
curious,  and  otherwise  barren  details. 

I  have  before  directed  the  attention  of  the  reader  to. the  fact, 
that  whoever  penned  the  Declaration  of  our  National  Indep^n- 
dance,  must  have  well  studied  Rousseau's  "  Contrat  Social."  . 

The  Rev.  Dr.  Smith,  in  his  "  Divine  Drama  of  History  and 
Civilization,"  speaks  thus  of  the  relation  of  Rousseau  to  his 
time : — 

"  Rousseau  was  the  avenging  spirit  of  the  Evangelical  Pro- 
tastants  whom  monarchical  France  had  massacred  or  banished. 
He  had  the  blood  and  the  soul  of  the  Presbyterian  in  him;  but 
he  was  drunk  with  vengeance,  and  he  had,  according  to  his  own 
confession,  imbibed  with  his  mother's  milk  the  hatred  of  kings, 
and  nourished  that  hate  and  kept  it  warm.  He  declared  that 
though  man  was  born  free  he  was  everywhere  in  chains.  Be- 
ing gifted  with  great  eloquence,  he  delighted  his  readers.  He 
realized  the  government  of  the  people  and  became  the  soul  of 
the  Revolution." 

"  Twelve  hundred  human  individuals,"  says  Thomas  Carlyle, 
"  with  the  Gospel  of  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau  in  their  pocket, 
congregating  in  the  name  of  twenty-five  millions,  with  full  as- 
surance of  faith,  to  'make  the  Constitution:'  such  sight,  the 
acme  and  main  product  of  the  eighteenth  century,  our  World 
can  witness  only  once.  For  time  is  rich  in  wonders,  in  mon- 
strosities most  rich;  and  is  observed  never  to  repeat  himself  or 
any  of  his  Gospels : — surely  least  of  all  this  Gospel  according  to 
Jean  Jacques.  Once  it  was  right  and  indispensable,  since  such 
had  become  the  belief  of  man;  but  once  also  is  enough." 


90  CONCLUDING  APPLICATION. 

"They  have  made  the  Constitution,  these  Twelve  Hundred 
Jean- Jacques  Evangelists." 

"  A  new  Fiftli  Evangelist,  Jean-Jacques,  calling  on  men  to 
amend  each  the  whole  world's  wicked  existence,  and  be  saved  by 
making  the  Constitution." 

Thomas  Carlyle  in  innumerable  other  cases  speaks  most  lov- 
ingly of  "  Poor  Jean  Jacques."  In  an  elaborate  critical  estimate 
of  Rousseau  and  the  men  of  the  eighteenth  century,  he  says: 
"  Hovering  in  the  distance  with  use — struck  minatory  air-stern- 
beckoning,  comes  Rousseau.  Poor  Jean-Jaques  !  Alternately 
deified  and  cast  to  the  dogs :  a  deep-minded,  high-minded,  even 
noble,  yet  woefully  misarranged  mortal,  with  all  the  misforma- 
tions  of  nature  intensified  to  the  verge  of  madness  by  unfavor- 
able Fortune.  A  lonely  man;  his  life  a  long  soliloquy1?  The 
wandering  Tiresias  of  his  time; — in  whom,  however,  did  lie 
prophetic  meaning,  such  as  none  of  the  others  offer.  His  true 
character,  with  its  lofty  aspirings  and  poor  performings;  and 
how  the  spirit  of  the  man  worked  so  wildly  like  celestial  fire  in 
a  thick,  dark  element  of  chaos,  and  shot  forth  etherial  radiance, 
all  piercing  lightning,  yet  could  not  illuminate,  was  quenched 
and  did  not  conquer;  this,  with  what  lies  in  it,  may  now  be 
pretty  accurately  appreciated,"  etc. 

The  world-famous  "  Confessions "  of  Rousseau  have  also 
powerfully  stimulated  revolt  against  the  most  despotic  of  tyran- 
nies that  ever  enchained  the  human  race.  No  romance  was 
ever  half  so  interesting.  With  resistless  power  their  author 
compels  us  to  himself.  Every  page  chains  the  reader  with 
electric  fascination.  With  absorbing  interest  we  follow  him  in 
every  step  of  his  strange  sad  life.  Not  a  scene  in  the  "  Confes- 
sions "  but  what  has  formed  the  subject  for  a  master  piece  by 
some  great  artist.  Rousseau  was  one  of  those  men  whose  fame 
the  world  has  taken  into  its  own  hands.  One  of  those  big- 
hearted,  truth-loving,  high-aspiring,  yet  sad-fated,  stumbling 
men,  whose  sufferings  have  been  made  up  for  by  an  eternal 
meed  of  tenderness  and  love.  He  has  been  taken  into  the  heart 
of  mankind. 

Perhaps  nothing  could  more  markedly  manifest  the  place 
Jean  Jacques  holds  in  the  heart  of  the  world  than  the  love  and 
reverence  which  have  been  lavished  on  him  by  all  the  high- 
souled  poets  and  writers  in  every  land  since  his  day.  Goethe, 
Schiller,  Jean  Paul,  Shelley,  Brougham,  Byron,  Carlyle,  Tenny- 
son, etc.,  etc.  All  that  is  fresh  and  lofty  and  spiritual  in  the 


CONCLUDING  APPLICATION.  91 

new  French  school  of  Poetry  and  Literature,  is  distinctly  trace- 
able to  Rousseau.  Bernadin  de  Saint  Pierre,  Mad.  de  Stael, 
Chateaubriand,  Lamartine,  etc.,  etc.,  were  successively  formed 
under  his  influence,  and  adoringly  worshipped  him  as  their 
master.  Thomas  Carlyle,  in  a  conversation  with  Emerson  (see 
English  Traits,  p.  22),  while  speaking  of  the  men  who  had  in- 
fluenced the  formation  of  his  character,  declared  that  Rousseau's 
"  Confessions  "  had  discovered  to  him  that  he  (Carlyle)  was  not 
a  dunce. 

R.  W.  Emerson,  too,  speaks  of  "  The  Confessions  "  as  a  book 
so  important  in  literature,  that  it  was  well  worth  while  to  trans- 
late. .  .  its  courage  and  precision  of  thought  will  keep  it  good." 

And  the  high-souled  Schiller  hymns  Rousseau  thus : 

"  Hail  grave  of  Rousseau  !  here  thy  troubles  cease  1 
Thy  life  one  search  for  freedom  and  for  peace : 
Thee  peace  and  freedom  life  did  ne'er  allow : 
Thy  search  is  ended,  and  thou  find'st  them  now ! 
When  will  the  old  wound  scar !    In  the  dark  age 
Perish'd  the  wise.     Light  comes — how  fared  the  sage? 
The  same  in  darkness  or  in  light  his  fate, 
Time  brings  no  mercy  to  the  bigot's  hate  ! 
Socrates  charmed  philosophy  to  dwell 
On  earth ;  by  false  philosophers  he  fell : 
In  Rousseau  Christians  marked  their  victim — when 
Rousseau  endeavored  to  make  Christians  men ! " 

Reader,  please  to  skip  the  next  six  paragraphs,  unless  you 
can  pardon  a  digression  (and  I  must  confess  to  have  given  you 
.  some  exercise  in  that  respect  already),  and  unless  you  further- 
more love  liberty,  justice,  and  equal  rights,  not  as  things  to  be 
merely  talked  about,  sung  about,  and  "  fought,  bled  and  died  " 
about,  but  as  practical  realities. 

In  a  state  of  bliss  in  perfect  contrast  with  what  generally 
passes  for  married  life,  Rousseau  spent  several  years  with 
Madam  De  Warens ;  a  lady  of  noble  birth,  who  was  in  comfort- 
able circumstances,  enjoying  a  pension  from  Victor  Amadeus, 
king  of  Sardinia.  She  was  the  wife  of  a  man  with  whom  she 
could  not  live  happily,  and  from  whom  she  therefore  separated. 
Rousseau,  in  his  "Confessions,"  thus  describes  her:  "All  who 
loved  her,  loved  each  other.  Jealousy  and  rivalry  themselves 
yielded  to  the  dominant  sentiment  she  inspired:  and  I  never 
saw  any  of  those  who  surrounded  her,  entertain  the  slightest 
ill-will  towards  each  other."  "I  hazard  the  assertion,  that  if  Soc- 
rates could  esteem  Aspasia,  he  would  have  respected  Madam  de 
Warens."  "  Let  my  reader,"  continues  the  enamored  philoso- 


92  CONCLUDING  APPLICATION. 

pher,  "  pause  a  moment  at  this  eulogy ;  and  if  he  has  in  his 
mind's  eye  any  other  woman  of  whom  he  can  say  this  much,  let 
him,  as  he  values  his  life's  repose,  cleave  to  her,  were  she,  for 
the  rest,  the  lowest  of  drabs." 

After  eight  years  of  bliss  with  Madam  de  Warens,  that  lady's 
tasbe,  though  not  her  affections,  changed.  Rousseau,  also  wish- 
ing to  visit  Paris,  they  parted  in  perfect  friendship.  At  Paris, 
Rosseau  resumed  the  free-love  connection  with  Therese  Le  Vas- 
seur,  a  young  girl  of  small  accomplishments,  but  of  a  most  ami- 
able disposition.  Some  of  the  highest  nobles  in  France  (in- 
cluding the  king  and  queen)  did  not  disdain  to  treat  her  with 
marked  respect;  and  after  Rousseau's  death,  the  government  of 
France  pensioned  Therese,  instead  of  letting  her  die  of  hunger, 
as  the  government  of  England,  to  its  eternal  disgrace,  suffered 
Lady  Hamilton,  the  mistress  of  Lord  Nelson,  to  do,  although 
to  that  accomplished  Lady  and  to  her  influence  and  shrewd 
management  at  the  court  of  Naples,  England  owes  the  victory 
of  Trafalgar.  One  morning,  whilst  the  king  and  his  ministers 
lay  snoring,  she  managed  to  obtain  from  her  intimate  friend  the 
queen,  a  permit  for  her  gallant  free-lover,  Nelson,  to  water  his 
fleet  at  Naples;  but  for  which,  he  could  not  have  pursued  and 
conquered  the  French  at  Trafalgar.  His  last  request  of  the 
country  for  whose  cause  he  was  dying,  was, — "  Take  care  of  my 
dear  Lady  Hamilton." 

Yet  England  was  too  "virtuous  "  to  prevent  Lady  Hamilton 
from  depending  on  the  charity  of  a  poor  French  washer-woman ; 
and  from  having,  at  last,  to  starve  to  death,  in  a  garret,  in  the 
capital  of  the  nation  whose  navy  had  been  almost  destroyed 
through  her  management  and  her  lover's  bravery.  "  Virtue  " 
and  "  piety  "  readily  accept  the  services  of  those  they  impudently 
style  "vicious"  and  "profane,"  but  generally  consider  it  very 
scandalous  to  reward  them. 

Some  of  the  most  "  virtuous  "  citizens  in  every  country  in 
Christendom  do  not  hesitate  to  eat  the  bread  and  wear  the 
clothes  purchased  with  the  rent  of  those  curses  inseparable 
from  present  social  institutions,  —  prostitution  dens ;  and 
churches  and  missionaries,  draw  large  revenues  from  these 
"necessary  evils  "  as  they  are  cantingly  called.  Necessary  evils? 
If  there  is  a  "  sin  "  which  &just  "  God  "  could  punish,  it  is  that 
of  admitting  that  there  exists  "  necessary  evils;"  for  this  "  sin  " 
is  a  most  eificient  prolonger  of  the  damnation  of  the  human 


CONCLUDING  APPLICATION,  93 

But  England  did  build  monuments  to  Nelson,  and  he  has  had 
all  the  honor  of  the  victory  of  Trafalgar.  Why  did  not  Lady 
Hamilton  come  in  for  a  share  of  that  honor  1  In  addition  to 
what  we  have  seen  she  did  to  procure  that  victory,  can  any 
gallant  man  doubt,  that  her  charms  were  the  main  stimulus  of 
Nelson's  courage?  What  dangers  would  not  a  man  that  was  a 
man  brave,  in  order  to  swell  with  delight,  admiration,  sand  just 
approval,  the  heart  of  her  whom  he  adored,  and  who  freely- 
loved  him  ? 

Reader,  did  you  ever  ask  yourself  why  it  is  that  gallant  men 
(and  almost  all  notable  men  are  gallant)  are  applauded  in  high 
society,  and  are  comparatively  little  blamed  or  frowned  upon 
among  the  million  1  Surely,  gallantry  in  woman  is  really  no 
more  "vicious  "  than  it  is  in  man;  it  is  simply  because,  owing 
to  ignorance  with  respect  to  the  regulation  of  love  affairs,  it  is 
more  inconvenient  that  it  is  more  discountenanced.  It  is  because 
women  have  to  be,  under  present  institutions,  considered  as  chat- 
tels; as  articles  of  luxury;  which  no  man  wants  to  be  at  the  ex- 
pense of,  except  for  his  own  pleasure,  of  course.  But  for  ignor- 
ance of  how  to  fully  gratify  every  natural  desire,  there  would  be 
no  such  words  as  either  virtue  or  vice  in  the  dictionary;  and  how- 
ever amiable  it  is  for  people  to  forbear  to  gratify  themselves  in 
any  respect,  at  the  expense  of  others,  still,  we  should  constantly 
bear  in  mind  that  all  the  honor  that  has  ever  been  bestowed  on 
"  virtue  "  and  self-denial,  is  primarily  due  to  ignorance  and  pov- 
erty; to  ignorance  of  how  to  create  the  means  whereby  to  dispense 
with  "  virtue,"  self-denial,  ay,  and  even  that  most  virtuous  of  all 
the  virtues, — charity;  to  ignorance  of  howto  develop,  modify, and 
combine  the  substantial,  till  desire  is  but  the  measure  of  fulfill- 
ment— till  to  will  is  but  the  precursor  of  to  have. 

Human  progress  is  generally  divisable  into  three  ages : — the 
age  of  mystery,  the  age  of  reason,  and  the  age  of  practical  science 
and  art.  These  answer  to  the  theological,  the  critical  and  the 
positive  stages  of  the  Grand  Revolution  just  alluded  to;  of 
which  revolution,  the  "  author  hero  "  was  AUGUSTE  COMTE. 

Rousseau  and  Paine  had  their  forerunner  in  Martin  Luther; 
Comte's  John  Baptist  was  Charles  Fourier. 

To  Martin  Luther  and  Charles  Fourier,  mankind  are  almost 
as  much  indebted,  as  to  those  for  whom  these  prepared  the 
way. 

Fourier  was  far  more  in  advance  of  his  time  than  was  Lu- 
ther; still,  Luther's  step  was  much  the  most  perilous  to  himself. 


94  CONCLUDING  APPLICATION. 

Whoever  can  look  on  the  picture  [I  saw  it  in  the  Dusseldorf 
Gallery]  of  Luther  at  the  Diet  of  Worms,  with  dry  eyes,  with- 
out feeling  an  admiration  near  akin  to  adoration  for  The  Man 
who  would  go  where  the  cause  of  liberty  called  him,  "  though 
there  should  be  there  as  many  devils  as  tiles  on  the  roofs,"  must 
be  made  of  sterner  stuff  than  I  am. 

Look  ou  that  incarnation  of  bravery.  See  how  undaunted 
that  single  representative  of  the  cause  of  the  human  race 
stands,  amUst  the  terrible  array  of  princes  and  bishops.  There 
were  six  hundred  of  them ;  headed  by  the  Emperor  himself. 

As  fearlessly  as  Paine  first  openly  pronounced  those  trea- 
sonable words — "  American  Independence,"  Luther  has  dared 
to  burn  the  Pope's  bull,  even  when  there  was  not  a  crowned 
head  in  all  Christendom  but  trembled  at  that  awful  document. 
Surely  the  heart  that  warms  for  P*ine.must  glow  for  Luther. 
Materialist  though  I  am,  I  do  reverence  that  brave  monk. 
Had  the  Elector  of  Saxony  been  the  most  absolute  monarch 
that  ever  reigned;  and  had  the  Landgrave  of  Hesse  taken  as 
many  wives*  and  concubines  as  the  wisest  man,  in  Jehovah's 
estimation,  that  ever  was  or  ever  will  be,  is  said  to  have  had, 
these  princes  would  nevertheless  deserve  the  eternal  gratitude 
of  mankind,  for  the  protection  they  afforded  to  the  great  apos- 
tle of  reform,  but  for  the  division,  in  the  ranks  of  despotism, 
which  he  created,  a  Rousseau  and  a  Paine  could  not  so  soon 
have  preacJied  liberty,  nor  could  a  Fourier  and  a  Comte  as  yet 
have  indicated  how  to  put  it  into  practice. 

To  the  zeal  and  liberality  of  Mr.  Albert  Brisbane,  and  to 
the  scholarship  of  Mr.  Henry  Clapp,  Jr.,  are  English  readers 
indebted  for  an  introduction  to  Fourier's  great  work,  "The 
Social  Destiny  of  Man."f  And  the  same  class  of  readers  are 
similarly  indebted  to  Mr.  Lorn  be  and  Miss  Harriet  MartineauJ 

*  "  All  the  theologians  of  Wittemberg  assembled  to  draw  up  an  answer 
[to  the  Landgrave's  petition  to  be  allowed  to  have  two  wives],  and  the  result 
was  a  compromise.  He  was  allowed  a  double  marriage,  on  condition  that 
his  second  wife  should  not  be  publicly  recognized." 

"  If,  nevertheless,  your  highness  is  fully  resolved  to  take  a  second  wife, 
we  are  of  opinion  that  the  marriage  should  be  secret. " 

"  Given  at  Wittemberg,  after  the  festival  of  St.  Nicholas,  1539,— Martin 
Luther,  Philip  Melancthon,  Martin  Bucer,  Antony  Corvin,  Adam,  John 
Lening,  Justin  Wintfert,  Dionisius  Melanther." — Michelet's  "Life  of 
Luther." 

+  Published  by  Calvin  Blanchard. 

+  Between  whom  and  Mr.  Atkinson,  there  took  place  that  admirable 
correspondence  r-  he  subiect  of  the  "Laws  of  Man's  Nature  and  Develop- 


CONCLUDING  APPLICATION.  95 

(the  latter  aided  by  Professor  Nichol)  for  being  enabled  to 
acquaint  themselves  with  "The  Positive  Philosophy  of  Auguste 
Comte."* 

These  great  works  are  carrying  on  a  constructive,  and  there- 
fore noiseless  and  unostentatious  revolution;  they  do  not  (par- 
ticularly the  latter)  appeal  to  the  common  understanding,  and 
the  masses  will  know  but  little  about  them,  until  they  feel 
their  beneficient  effects.  But  the  keen  observer  and  the  social 
artist  perceive  that  they  have  already  given  a  new  tone  to  all 
the  higher  literature  of  Western  Europe,  and  even,  to  some 
extent,  to  that  of  the  United  States. 

'Tis  strange  that  they  who  are  capacitated  to  think  truth, 
should  so  generally  have  made  the  unfortunate  blunder  of  not 
seeing  that  by  the  masses,  truth  of  any  great  degree  of  com- 
plexity can  only  be  felt.  Their  religion  is  addressed  almost 
wholly  to  their  feeling.  Their  knock-down  argument  to  all 
opposition,  is,  "  /  feel  it  to  be  true"  A  more  unreasonable 
scheme  never  emanated  from  Bedlam,  than  that  of  plying  the 
masses  with  reason,  on  subjects  so  complicated  as  are  religion 
and  sociology.  Has  not  the  experiment  uniformly  proven  the 
truth  of  what  I  here  assert  1  Reason  is,  of  course,  connected 
with  everything  which  a  sane  person  voluntarily  does  or  thinks 
of.  It  is  connected  with  the  construction  of  the  steam  engine ; 
and  should  be  similarly  and  only  similarly  connected  with 
social  architecture. 

Numerous  experiments  to  which  the  name  of  Fourier  has 
been  attached,  have  failed.  But  there  was  not  one  of  them 
which  bore  the  most  distant  resemblance  to  the  system  of  the 
great  master,  whose  name  they  so  over-zealously  and  rashly 
appropriated. 

A  very  successful  trial  of  the  household  economies  of  Fourier 
has  been  going  on  in  New  York  for  the  last  three  years,  under 
the  management  of  Mr.  E.  F.  Underhill.  His  "  Cosmopolitan 
Hotel"  comprises  four  elegant  five  story  brown  stone  front 
houses,  situated  in  the  most  fashionable  part  of  Fourteenth- 
street. 

The  world  has  been  prevented  from  becoming  acquainted 
with  Fourier's  magnificent  discoveries  in  social  architecture, 
mainly  through  the  agency  of  the  blackest  and  most  impudent 

ment,"  republished  in  a  neat  volume  by  Mr.  J.  P.  Menduiu,  publisher  of 
<the  "Boston  Investigator." 

•  Published  by  Calvin  Blanchard. 


96  CONCLUDING  APPLICATION. 

falsehood  ever  uttered.  Fourier's  system  has  been  denounced 
as  communism ;  whereas  it  is  the  very  opposite  of  that.  Our 
present  social  hor'  ';e-podge  is  Skidmoreism  itself,  when  com- 
pared with  the  system  of  which  "The  Social  Destiny  of  Man," 
not  vithstanding  its  incidental  and  non-essential  errors,  is  a 
boLl  and  true  outline.  Next  in  importance  to  the  discoveries 
of  Comte,  are  Fourier's  with  respect  to  the  human  passions, 
and  with  respect  to  the  equitable  adjustment  of  the  claims  of 
labor,  skill,  and  capital. 

But  Fourier's  system  was,  so  to  speak,  the  edifice  in  advance 
of  the  foundation  on  which  alone  it  could  stand.  Real  liberty, 
substantial  happiness,  and  practical  goodness,  must  have  a 
material  basis.  That  basis  has  been  furnished  by  Auguste 
Comte. 

Mr.  Lewes,  in  his  "  Biographical  History  of  Philosophy,"* 
says:  "Comte  is  the  Bacon  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Like 
Bacon,  he  fully  sees  the  cause  of  our  intellectual  anarchy,  and 
also  sees  the  cure.  We  have  no  hesitation  in  recording  our 
conviction  that  the  "  Course  de  Philosophic  Positive "  is  the 
greatest  work  of  our  century,  and  will  form  one  of  the  mighty 
landmarks  in  the  history  of  opinion.  No  one  before  him  ever 
dreamed  of  treating  social  problems  otherwise  than  upon  theo- 
logical or  metaphysical  methods.  He  first  showed  how  possi- 
ble— nay,  how  imperative — it  was  that  social  questions  should 
be  treated  on  the  same  footing  with  all  other  scientific  ques- 
tions." 

And  Mill,  in  his  "  System  of  Logic,"f  speaks  thus  of  "  The 
Positive  Philosophy :" — "A  work  which  only  requires  to  be 
better  known,  to  place  its  author  in  the  very  highest  class  of 
European  thinkers.  ...  A  sociological  system  widely 
removed  from  the  vague  and  conjectural  character  of  all  for- 
mer attempts,  and  worthy  to  take  its  place,  at  last,  among 
established  sciences.  ...  A  work  which  I  hold  to  be  far 
the  greatest  yet  produced  in  the  Philosophy  of  the  Sciences. 

.  .  He  (Comte)  may  truly  be  said  to  have  created  the 
philosophy  of  the  higher  mathematics.  .  .  .  Whose  view 
of  the  philosophy  of  classification  is  the  most  erudite  with 
which  I  am  acquainted.  .  .  .  His  works  are  the  only 
source  to  which  the  reader  can  resort  for  a  practical  exempliti- 

*  This  work  should  be  in  the  possession  of  every  scientific  lover  of  liberty 
It  is  published  by  D.  AppleSon  &  Co. 
t  Published  by  Harper  &  Brother* 


CONCLUDING  APPLICATION.  97 

cation  of  the  study  of  social  phenomena  on  the  true  principles 
of  the  Historical  Method.  Of  that  method  I  do  not  hesitate  to 
pronounce  them  a  model." 

"  Clearness  and  depth,  comprehensiveness  and  precision  hare 
never,  probably,  been  so  remarkably  united  as  in  Auguste 
Comte,"  says  Professor  Gillespie,  of  Union  College,  New  York. 

The  following  extracts  from  an  article  (understood  to  be  by 
Sir  David  Brewster)  which  appeared  in  the  "  Edinburgh  Re- 
view," will  also  give  some  further  idea  of  the  aim  and  charac- 
ter of  "The  Positive  Philosophy:" 

"  A  work  of  profound  science,  marked  with  great  acuteness 
of  reasoning,  and  conspicuous  for  the  highest  attributes  of  in- 
tellectual power.  It  comprehends  MATHEMATICS,  ASTRONOMY, 
PHYSICS,  and  CHEMISTRY,  or  the  sciences  of  Inorganic  Bodies ; 
and  PHYSIOLOGY,  and  SOCIAL  PHYSICS,  or  the  sciences  of  Organic 
Bodies. 

"Under  the  head  of  SOCIAL  PHYSICS  the  author  treats  of 
the  general  structure  of  human  societies,  of  the  fundamental 
natural  law  of  the  development  of  the  human  species,  and  of 
the  progress  of  civilization.  This  last  Section  is  sub-divided 
into  three  heads — the  THEOLOGICAL  EPOCH,  the  METAPHYSICAL 
EPOCH,  and  the  POSITIVE  EPOCH — the  first  of  these  embracing 
FETISHISM,  POLYTHEISM,  and  MONOTHEISM." 

Referring  to  the  Astronomical  part  of  the  work,  the  Reviewer 
says,  "  We  could  have  wished  to  place  before  our  readers  some 
specimens  of  our  author's  manner  of  treating  these  difficult 
and  deeply  interesting  topics — of  his  simple,  yet  powerful 
eloquence — of  his  enthusiastic  admiration  of  intellectual  super- 
iority— of  his  accuracy  as  a  historian,  his  honesty  as  a  judge, 
and  of  his  absolute  freedom  from  all  personal  and  national 
feelings." 

But  the  mental  effort  which  produced  the  "  Positive  Philoso- 
phy "  was  too  much  for  the  brain  of  any  one  man  to  make  with 
impunity,  as  the  subsequent  writings  of  the  great  positivist 
show.  With  respect  to  these,  aud  particularly  to  Comte's 
"  Positive  Religion,"  Mr.  Lewes  very  considerately  remarks, — 
"  let  us  draw  a  veil  over  them ; "  and  I,  who  have  made  Comte 
a  study,  will  add,  that  any  other  view  than  this,  with  respect 
to  the  writings  which  Comte  sent  forth  to  the  world  after  the 
"  Positive  Philosophy,"  is  most  ur^ust. 

The  clergy  are  at  length  aware  that  the  slander  and  abuse 
which  they  have  bellowed  forth  from  the  pulpit  against  Paine, 
7 


98  CONCLUDING  APPLICATION. 

have  advertised  his  works  more  effectually  than  ten  per  cent,  of 
their  own  salaries  could  have  done  through  the  newspapers; 
and  hence  the  profound  silence  which  they  maintain  with  re- 
spect to  the  personality  of  Comte,  and  to  the  name  of  "  The 
Positive  Philosophy."  Priests  know  that  the  world's  old  religion 
is  dead;  but  they  mean  to  prolong  its  decay  to  the  utmost,  in 
order  to  feed,  like  carrion  crows,  on  its  rotten  carcass;  they 
therefore  take  every  precaution  against  having  it  stirred  up. 

Observe  in  what  general  terms  the  "black  coats,"  as  Hum- 
boldt  styles  the  parsons,  denounce  the  materialism  with  which 
all  the  high  talent  of  the  age  in  which  we  live  is  imbued. 
They  do  not  wish  to  let  their  dupes  know  that  such  men  a» 
Humboldt  and  Comte  did  not  believe  in  the  existence  of  the 
extra-almighty  pedant  whom  they  seat  on  the  throne  of  the 
universe. 

We  have  already  seen  that  the  author  of  "Cosmos"*  not 
only  held  superstition  and  its  ministers  in  as  utter  contempt  as 
as  did  he  who  wrote  "  The  Age  of  Reason,"  but  that  he  was 
furthermore  a  thorough  materialist;  and  the  author  of  "The 
Positive  Philosophy"  has  mathematically  annihilated  a  God 
who  can  have  no  practical  existence  to  man,  together  with  the 
supposed  foundation  of  a  faith,  the  further  teaching  of  which 
can  but  hold  human  perfection  in  abeyance.  Yet  the  aristoc- 
racy of  Europe  were  proud  of  the  companionship  of  Humboldt, 
and  emperors  and  kings  presented  him  with  testimonials  of 
their  high  regard. 

As  to  Auguste  Comte,  it  is  rumored  that  the  Emperor 
Napoleon  III.  held  frequent  conferences  with  him ;  and  the 
encouragement  which  that  monarch  is  giving  to  men  of  science 
is  matter  of  public  notoriety. 

But  how  does  "  The  Model  Republic"  compare  with  monarch- 
ical Europe  in  these  vitally  important  matters?  Is  not  the 
noise  which,  in  the  United  States,  is  made  about  freedom,  as 
hollow  as  is  the  din  with  which  our  loud-belled  churches  call 
their  congregations  to  the  worship  of  him  who  they  neverthe- 
less say  enjoined  secret  devotion? 

In  a  country  where  no  throned  sovereign  bears  sway,  where 
no  crowned  pope  sends  forth  his  bull  forbidding  the  offices  of 
human  kindness  to  be  extended  to  those  who  have  incurred  his 
displeasure,  what  dread  tyrant  willed  that  Thomas  Paine  should 
be  shunned  by  many  of  his  illustrious  compeers; — that  his 

*  Bepubliabed  by  Messrs.  Harper  &  Brothers. 


CONCLUDING   APPLICATION.  99 

bones  should  be  refused  a  resting  place  beside  those  of  even  the 
least  persecuting  and  vindictive  of  all  the  Christian  sects ;  that 
his  name  should  be  almost  left  out  of  the  history  of  the  glorious 
deeds  which  his  inspiration  caused  to  be  performed,  and  even 
to  this  day,  be  held  in  utter  abhorrence  by  nearly  all  those  for 
whose  welfare  his  life  and  splendid  talents  were  so  cheerfully 
devoted  ?  Who  is  that  tyrant  ? 

"  Priestcraft !"  readily  answer  they  who  zealously  advocate 
popular  free  discussion,  and  an  appeal  to  popular  opinion,  as  a 
means  of  finding  out  how  to  deal  with  those  most  important 
and  complicated  of  all  affairs, — religion  and  government. 
"Priestcraft!"  they  exclaim;  as  they  lavish  their  carefully 
unsystemized  sociological  facts,  their  critical  expositions,  and 
their  logical  deductions,  upon  the  horrified,  astounded  and 
enraged,  but  not  at  all  edified  multitude. 

Well,  my  friends,  between  you  and  me,  I  must  acknowledge 
that  you  have  slapped  that  tyrant's  prime  minister  full  in  the 
face.  Try  it  again.  But  first  gather  up  your  pearls,  lest  the 
many  before  whom  you  have  indiscriminately  cast  them,  and 
who  want  something  of  which  they  can  make  a  far  more  prac- 
tical and  satisfactory  use,  turn  upon  and  "rend  you." 

"  Ignorance !  of  course  we  know  that  priestcraft  thrives  on 
ignorance.  Ignorance  is  that  tyrant;"  methinks  I  hear  you 
further  answer. 

Yes,  my  friends,  ignorance  is  that  tyrant.  But  still,  the 
most  important,  and  by  far  most  difficult  question  remains 
unanswered.  He  is  not  ignorance  of  the  fact  that  the  Bible  is 
of  human  origin.  The  Bible  is  but  one  of  the  weather-cocks 
which  tell  which  way  the  wind  of  popular  folly  blows.  The 
Koran  is  another,  and  so  is  the  Book  of  Mormon.  And  they 
are  all  rather  useful  than  otherwise,  as  they  furnish  sugges- 
tions as  to  the  course  to  be  pursued  by  scientific  and  artistic 
reformers.  He  is  not  ignorance  with  respect  to  reading,  writ- 
ing, geography,  grammar,  arithmetic,  Greek,  Latin;  in  short, 
he  is  not  ignorance  of  anything  which  has  hitherto  been  taught 
or  thought  of  in  any  school  or  college. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  he  is  ignorance  of,  presently ;  and,  at  the 
same  time,  I  will  demonstrate  how  to  liberate  man  from  his 
despotism,  and  rescue  the  memory  of  Thomas  Paine  from  the 
reproach  which  has  been  so  unjustly,  so  blindly,  or  else  so  un- 
intentionally heaped  upon  it. 

Are  such  rights  as  English  Constitutionalism  can  give  us 


100  CONCLUDING  APPLICATION. 

worth  contending  for  1  Independence  is  the  only  measure  that 
can  be  of  any  avail;  substantially  said  Thomas  Paine  to  those 
more  cautious  rebels  who,  at  the  commencement  of  "  the  times 
that  tried  men's  LOU!S,"  were  glooming  over  the  miserable  effects 
which  half  measures  had  produced. 

Are  such  shams  of  rights  as  caucus-and-ballot-boxism  can 
give  us,  \7orth  spending  any  more  time,  and  money,  and  agita- 
tion upon1?  I  ask,  and  appeal  to  what  has  been  most  lyingly 
named  free  government  in  Greece,  Rome,  England.  Venice, 
France,  the  United  States,  and  wherever  else  it  has  been  at- 
tempted to  make  permanent  the  crisis  stage  of  progress  which 
marks  the  departure  from  monarchy.  No,  my  friends,  Art- 
Liberty  alone,  can  be  of  any  avail. 

Art-Liberty  may  now  sound  as  strange  as  did  American  In- 
dependence when  first  pronounced  by  Thomas  Paine;  ay,  and 
as  treasonable,  too.  Still,  I  repeat,  nothing  short  of  Art- 
Liberty  can  prevent  the  freedom-experiment  which  Paine  so 
powerfully  incited,  from  failing  in  the  United  States,  as  badly 
as  it  has  in  every  other  country  where  it  has  been  tried. 

How  far  short  of  such  failure  is  that  experiment  now  1  when 
statesmen,  and  philosophers,  ay,  and  philanthropists,  are 
seriously  discussing  the  question,  whether  "free-laborers"  or 
"slaves"  have  the  most  uncomfortable  time  of  it? 

Look  at  the  opaque  web  of  entanglement  which  our  "  repre- 
sentatives" have  wove,  or  "enacted"  for  us,  and  called  "law." 
Look  at  the  wretched  and  expensive  farces  which  the  adminis- 
terers  of  these  "laws"  play,  under  the  name  of  "trials."  Are 
caucusing,  balloting,  "  constitutions,"  "  laws,"  and  jury-trial- 
justice  the  sum  and  substance  of  the  liberty  for  which  Paine 
stimulated  that  glorious  band  which  Washington  led,  to  sacri- 
fice their  lives'?  Is  this  the  end  of  the  revoluion  which  "  Com- 
mon Sense"  instigated] 

Was  the  earth  fertilized  and  the  ocean  reddened  with  human 
blood,  and  were  both  earth  and  ocean  strewn  with  the  ashes  and 
the  wrecks  of  human  skill  and  industry,  in  order  to  achieve 
demagogism  ?  In  fine,  are  nature's  resources  fully  exhausted, 
only  to  produce  such  a  miserable  abortion  that  her  highest 
being,  man,  abjures  her  for  the  "supernatural?"  Surely  this 
cannot  be  so. 

Reader,  did  you  ever  notice  the  fact  that  the  United  States 
Government  and  that  of  Russia  are,  and  have  always  been  on 
remarkably  loving  terms  with  each  other  ?  Well,  this  is  but 


CONCLUDING  APPLICATION.  101 

as  natural  as  it  is  for  "birds  of  a  feather  to  flock  together." 
The  political  systems  of  both  Russia  and  America,  are,  about 
equally,  as  pure  absolutisms  as  governments  can  be.  In 
Russia,  the  head  of  the  majority -despotism  which  tyrannizes,  is 
designated  by  birth.  The  Russian  Government  is  a  simple 
despotism,  modifiable  by  assassination.  In  the  United  States, 
the  band  of  conspirators  for  wholesale  violence  and  wrong, — 
the  head,  or  directory  of  the  majority  despotism  which  tyrannizes, 
is  designated  by  caucus,  fraud,  and  ballot-box  jugglery;  aided 
by  perjury,  bribery,  corruption,  and  by  the  occasional  use  of 
the  first,  the  bludgeon,  the  dagger,  and  the  pistol.  The 
difference  between  Russian  and  American  despotism  is  so  non- 
essential,  that  no  two  great  governments  in  the  world  have 
shown  such  marked  good  feeling  for  each  other,  as  have  that 
of  the  Czar  and  those  favorites  with  whom  he  shares  the  spoils, 
and  that  of  the  President,  by  whom  and  his  sycophants,  the 
United  States  is  freshly  subjugated  and  plundered  every  four 
years. 

But  what  do  you  mean  by  Art-Liberty  ?  Methinks  I  hear 
those  ask  who  have  not  already  hid  their  stupidity  from  them- 
selves, under  that  common  cover  of  dullness, — "Utopia." 

By  Art-Liberty,  my  friends,  I  mean  the  practical  appli- 
cation of  all  science  and  art  systemized,  as  fast  as  unfolded. 
The  only  law  which  can  govern  a  free  state  must  be  discov- 
ered; it  must  be  drawn  from  the  whole  of  science  and  art; 
not  "enacted;"  human  law  can  no  more  be  "enacted"  than 
can  physical  law. 

Art-Liberty  will  be  the  crowning  art  of  arts  in  developing 
nature's  resources,  of  discovering  and  modifying  her  laws,  and 
of  combining  her  powers  till  "creation"  shall  be  complete;  till 
supply  shall  be  adequate  to  demand;  till  nature's  grand  end, 
which  the  aim  of  her  highest  consciousness  instinctively  indi- 
cates, is  attained;  till  nature's  highest  organism,  man,  attains 
to  happiness  not  only  perfect,  but  lasting  enough  to  fully  satisfy 
this  five-sense  nature  without  recourse  to  "beyond  the  skies;" 
till  all  physical  obstacles  to  man's  Liberty  to  be  happy  are  re- 
moved, even  to  the  unfriendliness  of  climate!  Not,  by  such 
fanciful  means  as  that  great  seer,  Fourier,  supposed,  but  wholly 
through  the  working,  with  nature,  of  science  and  art,  which 
have  conquered  steam  and  electricity,  and  made  so  many  other 
things  which  were  inimical  to  man's  happiness,  the  very  means 
of  promoting  it ;  and  which  will  make  the  good  of  everything, 


102  CONCLUDING   APPLICATION. 

through  use,  in  exact  proportion  to  its  present  evil,  through 
au*#e  or  neglect. 

Man's  leaders,  must  find  out  how  to  satisfy  man's  highest 
aspirations,  insteid  of  catering  for  his  prejudices;  instead  of 
confirming  him,  by  flattery  and  cajolery,  in  his  false,  superna- 
turalistic  notions;  instead  of  studying  the  trickery  of  repre- 
senting and  plundering  him.  And  they  will  rapidly  find  this 
out,  as  soon  as  a  knowledge  (already  attained)  of  the  unity 
of  science,  spreads  among  them,  and  along  with  it,  its  correllate, 
— that  all  mankind  are  one  organism,  no  individual  of  which 
can  be  indifferent  to  each  and  all  of  the  others.  Enlightened, 
far-seeing,  all-benefiting  selfishness  will  then  take  the  place  of 
short-sighted,  suicidal,  penny- wise  pound-foolish  cunning;  and 
that  barricade  of  hypocrisy, — duty,  that  most  fallible  of  all 
guides, — conscience,  and  "  virtue  "  and  "  vice,"  those  most  un- 
scientific and  mischievous  expressions  that  have  ever  crept  into 
the  vocabulary  of  human  folly,  will  be  obsolete. 

Let  us  draw  a  picture  of  the  condition  of  things  which  the 
current  schemes  of  politics,  religion,  moralism,  "virtue,"  and 
"  law  "  must  very  shortly  produce,  if  they  had  unopposed  sway 
— if  the  requirements  of  both  our  civil  and  religious  guides 
were  fully  complied  with  : — 

If  all  contracts  in  accordance  with  present  "  law  "  were  ful- 
filled to  the  letter,  and  if  all  the  "duties"  enjoined  by  the 
present  moralism  were  unflinchingly  performed,  and  if  all 
which  "  virtue "  styles  "  vice "  was  entirely  abstained  from, 
and  if  what  is  now  "  free  trade "  according  to  "  law,"  had  a 
"  fair  field,"  how  long  would  it  take  a  millionth  of  the  earth's 
inhabitants  to  accumulate  all  its  wealth?  In  my  opinion,  it 
would  not  take  ten  generations  to  produce  that  reign  of 
"  law,"  "  principle,"  "  morality,"  "  virtue,"  and  "  free  trade," 
or  "  mind-your-own  business," — and-every-one-for-himself-ism, 
on  the  earth. 

But  there  must  be  no  stealing,  swindling,  or  robbery,  as 
Ifiijally  defined,  on  any  account ;  and  there  must  be  no  sexual 
intercourse  out  of  the  bonds  of  monogamy,  even  for  bread ;  and 
above  all,  there  must  be  no  acts,  or  even  words  of  treason. 
The  laboring  man  and  the  laboring  woman,  must  patiently  and 
slowly  (nay,  not  very  slowly  I'm  thinking)  die  on  such  wages 
as  they  who,  in  perfect  security,  hold  all  the  wealth,  chose  to 
give ;  and  those  out  of  work  must  brave  martyrdom  to 
" principle"  by  starving,  straightway,  unless  they  can  obtain  a 


CONCLUDING  APPLICATION.  103 

"  permit,"  to  drag  out  a  few  months,  possibly  years,  in  sack- 
cloth and  on  water-gruel  in  an  alms-house.* 

In  all  soberness,  I  ask,  is  not  this  a  fair  statement  of  the 
case  1  and,  therefore,  is  not  an  entire  change,  religious,  social, 
and  moral,  the  only  thing  that  can  cure  present  religious,  social, 
and  moral  disease  1  And  who  are  nearest  to  the  "  kingdom  of 
heaven1?"  who  are  least  obstructive  to  the  "  millenium  V  they 
who  are  now  considered  moral,  virtuous,  and  respectable,  or 
they  whom  such  term  immoral,  vicious,  and  the  vilest  of  the 
vile? 

The  only  thing  that  ever  made  me  seriously  consider  whether 
or  not  "Jesus"  was  a  divine  personage,  was  the  preference 
which  he  uniformly  gave  to  "sinners,"  "publicans  and  har- 
lots," even,  over  the  "  Scribes,  Pharisees  and  hypocrites,"  who 
performed  all  which  "  the  law  "  and  moralism  required.  And 
I  must  confess  that  I  am  still  astonished  that  any  one  should, 
almost  two  thousand  years  ago,  so  fully  have  understood  what 
so  very  few,  even  now,  have  any  conception  of.  Yet  this,  the 
strongest  argument  which  can  be  adduced  to  prove  "  Christ's  " 
divinity,  the  doctors  of  that  divinity  have  never,  to  my  know- 
ledge, brought  up.  Need  I  add  that  the  reason  is  very  evi- 
dent? Of  course,  were  the  doctors  aforesaid  to  make  a 
thorough  use  of  this  argument,  they  would  upset  the  whole 
present  political,  legal,  and  moral  scheme.  Well,  would  it  not 
be  best  to  overthrow  it  by  any  means  whatever  1  or,  to  put  the 
question  more  justly,  can  present  "institutions"  be  too  soon 
or  too  thoroughly  superseded  by  those  which  Art-Liberty,  but 
for  them,  would  produce  1 

Opinionism  and  moralism,  like  "  supernaturalism,"  (of  which 
they  are  the  refinement)  have  ages  since,  exhausted  what  little 
power  for  good  they  ever  had,  and  became  so  exceedingly  mor- 
bific to  the  social  organism,  that  they  cannot  be  too  speedily 
excreted.  Reason  and  free  discussion  were  once,  in  the  fifth 
cfmtury,  I  believe,  seriously  engaged  on  the  question  as  to 
whether  angels  could  go  from  one  point  to  another  without 
passing  through  intermediate  space;  and  I  myself,  in  the  nine- 
teenth century,  have  heard  reason  and  free  discussion  on  the 
question  as  to  whether  there  was  or  was  not  a  personal  devil ; 

*  I  claim  to  have  here  made  a  very  liberal  concession  ;  for  I  have  strong 
doubts  as  to  whether  old  fogyism,  if  it  had  it  all  its  own  way,  and  had  not 
the  slightest  fear  of  being  disturbed,  would  furnish  even  alms-houses,  sack- 
cloth, and  water-gruel  to  any  of  its  victims ;  to  those  who  were  too  "shift- 
less "  to  take  care  of  themselves. 


104  CONCLUDING  APPLICATION. 

nay,  that  devil's  tail  was  actually  discussed  and  reasoned  upon. 
How  much  progress  have  reason  and  free  discussion  made  since 
the  fifth  century  ?  Have  they  made  any?  Are  we  not  indebted 
for  every  bit  of  liberty  we  enjoy  now,  more  than  mankind  did 
then,  to  science  and  art?  always  excepting  what  little  good 
reason  and  free  discussion  of  subjectivism  have  done  as  very 
common  and  proportionably  subordinate  auxiliaries,  during 
crisis-stages  of  revolution.  Then,  these  weapons,  when  wielded 
by  such  men  as  Thomas  Paine,  ivere  of  use;  nay  would  lia-ce 
been  of  use,  had  the  social  structure  which  they  were  the  instru- 
ments of  tearing  down  been  replaced  by  one  really  new,  in- 
stead of  by  one  built  of  the  damaged,  ay,  even  rotten  materials 
of  the  old  one.  Paine  did  all  which  he  could  be  expected  to  do ; 
but  his  noble  efforts  were  not  seconded ;  for  they  who  wield 
his  weapons  now  resemble  those  soldiers  who,  instead  of  attack- 
ing fresh  foes,  continue  to  thrust  their  swords  into  the  bodies 
of  the  slain.  Was  Thomas  Paine  here  to-day,  his  old  remedies, 
religious  and  political  popular  free  discussion  and  reasoning 
would  be  thrown  aside;  or  only  used  to  assist  science  and  art 
to  displace  them  in  religious  and  state  affairs.  How  otherwise 
could  he  be  Thomas  Paine  ?  He  who  was  the  very  incarnation 
of  revolution?  True,  he  trusted  that  he  should  "never  use 
any  other  weapons  than  those  of  reason  ;"*  but  he  had  before 
trusted  that  British  constitutionalism  was  the  best  possible 
thing  for  the  State.  Yet  how  widely  and  nobly  did  he  after- 
wards change  his  course  in  that  respect ;  and  would  he  not  now 
see  full  as  much  cause  as  he  did  then,  for  taking  another  tack  ? 
Can  any  sensible  person,  who  would  honor  his  memory,  say 
that  he  would  not  ?  say  that  he  would  be  satisfied  with  the 
despotism  which  caucus-and-ballot-boxism  has  palmed  off  on  us, 
or  with  any  of  the  means  hitherto  used  to  get  rid  of  it  ? 

Man's  right  to  be  self-governed  is,  equally  with  his  desire  to 

*  "  The  most  formidable  weapon  against  errors  of  every  kind  is  Reason. 
I  have  never  used  any  other,  and  I  trust  I  never  shall ;"  says  1  aine,  in  his 
dedication  of  "The  Age  of  Reason"  to  his  "fellow-citizens  of  the  United 
States  of  America."  But  he  had  dreadful  eyperience  of  the  rebound  against 
himself,  which  the  blows  that  he  dealt  with  that  weapon  caused.  And  super- 
stition is  fully  as  rampant  with  the  multitude  now,  as  it  was  before  the  '  'Age 
of  Reason  "  was  written ;  and  it  is  as  rife  now,  as  it  then  was,  even  with 
the  higher  classes ;  with  the  exception  that  is  clearly  traceable  to  science 
and  art.  Every  man  of  intelligence  at  all  above  the  vulgar  knows,  that  not 
only  Ethan  Alien,  Jefferson,  and  Franklin  "were  infidels"  as  the  phrase  is, 
but  that  Lafayette,  and,  in  fact,  nearly  all  the  other  revolutionary  worthier, 
no  more  believed  in  the  "  divinity  "  of  "  The  Bible,"  than  Paine  did. 


CONCLUDING  APPLICATION.  105- 

be  so,  self-evident.  But  what  is  more  insultingly  termed  "  elec- 
tive "  franchise,  is  the  farthest  thing  possible  from  self-govern- 
ment. It  is,  except  as  a  transient  or  crisis-stage  expedient,  of 
all  fallacies  the  most  monstrous.  As  a  permanency,  it  has  no 
type,  and  consequently  no  warrant  throughout  nature.  In 
every  instance  where  majority  ism  has  become  chronic,  it  lias 
proved  as  bewildering  and  destructive  to  the  social  organism, 
as  the  worst  insanity  proves  to  the  individual.  There  is  no 
record  of  society's  being  afflicted  with  the  caucus-and-ballot-box 
mania  for  any  considerable  length  of  time,  without  having  to 
be  confined  in  the  straight  jacket  of  military  despotism;  or 
prescribed  a  double  dose  of  essentially  the  same  kind  of  tyranny 
from  which  it  had  been  so  madly  supposed  that  an  escape  had 
been  made.  What,  then,  I  ask,  in  behalf  of  Thomas  Paine, 
whose  distinguishing  characteristic  was  to  "  go  ahead,"  is  the 
use  of  fooling  any  longer  with  the  speculative,  abstract,  tanta- 
lizing shadows  of  human  rights,  which  our  corrupt,  spoil-seek- 
ing demagogues  impudently  palm  off  on  us  for  liberty  ?  And 
why  persist  longer  in  repeating  the  miserable  religious  and 
moral  failures  into  which  our  religious  and  moral  quacks  plunge 
us? 

To  what  purpose  have  both  religion  and  politics  been  so  freely 
discussed,  for  nearly  a  century  past,  in  the  United  States,  by 
all  who  had  more  tongue  than  brain,  and  more  vanity  than 
depth  of  research  ?  This  is  not  saying  that  some  wise  and  very 
worthy  people  have  not  also  been  led  into  the  fallacy  that  ab- 
stract subjectivism  was  sufficient  to  remedy  despotism.  I  was- 
once  in  that  unfortunate  predicament  myself;  and  the  axiom  of 
Thomas  Jefferson  (I  believe  it  was  Jefferson's,  at  any  rate  it 
is  the  axiom  of  his  loudest  followers)  was,  that  error  may  be 
safely  trusted  where  reason  is  left  free  to  combat  it.  But  I 
ask  in  all  soberness,  has  error  been  safely  trusted  in  the  United 
States,  though  reason  is  there  as  free  to  combat  it  as  the  ma- 
jority will  let  it  be  1  And  with  what  good  effect,  so  for  as  social 
architecture  is  concerned,  have  carefully  culled,  and  almost  as 
carefullv  isolated  facts  been  laid  before  the  multitude,  whose 
views  are  necessarily  confined  to  the  specialities  which  consti- 
tute their  calling,  since  the  acute  stage  of  revolution  in  this 
country  1 

I  tell  you  that  facts  to  be  worth  anything,  must  be  system- 
ized;  and  that,  too,  immeasurably  more  in  social  or  state  affairs- 
than  in  any  others ;  and  that  this  requires  the  wisest  heads  that 


106  CONCLUDING  APPLICATION. 

can  grow  on  human  shoulders,  aided  by  all  science  and  art,  and 
by  the  most  laborious  and  uninterrupted  preparation.  Social 
Science  is  the  art  of  arts,  not  the  art  of  political  trickery. 

In  spite  of  all  the  freedom  of  the  tongue  and  of  the  press 
which  the  majority  will  allow  to  be  exercised,  or  can  allow  to 
be  exercised  till  social  science  and  art  take  charge  of  education, 
is  not  our  political  system  corrupt  to  the  very  core?  Are  not 
tliey  who  have  charge  of  the  public  treasury  a  very  gang  of 
thieves  ?  And  are  not  they  whom  "  elective  franchise  "  places 
at  the  head  of  affairs,  plunging  the  nation  into  brankruptcy 
every  few  years,  and  at  shorter  and  shorter  intervals,  by  their 
reckless  wastefulness,  in  letting  the  life-blood  of  industry,  as  now 
carried  on — money — pour  abroad  like  water,  for  the  sake  of 
catching  their  dippers  full  of  it  ? 

And  as  to  religion: — has  not  the  empire  state,  New  York, 
in  1860,  enacted  Sunday-laws  which  would  have  done  credit 
to  the  Blue  Code  of  Connecticut  in  1650?  Are  not  church- 
building,  and  church-going,  and  revivalism,  ay,  and  Mormon- 
ism,  rife  among  that  very  multitude — that  highest  court  from 
whose  dread  decrees  there  is  no  present  appeal,  to  whom  free 
discussion  and  facts  have  been  presented  to  the  extent  they  can 
be  by  present  methods  ? 

The  popular  free-discussion  of  affairs  of  the  last  degree  of 
complication — religious  and  state  affairs — except  during  the 
crisis  period  of  revolution,  only  renders  that  worst  of  despotisms, 
anarchy,  chronic:  it  seats  in  the  social  organism,  that  political 
gangrene — demagogism — which  has  always  hitherto,  sooner  or 
later,  required  the  cauterization  of  military  despotism  (a 
remedy  all  but  as  bad  as  the  disease),  in  order  to  get  rid  of — in 
order  to  save  even  civilization.  Despotism  is  the  most  inveter- 
ate of  all  the  diseases  of  the  social  organism  which  ignorance 
lias  inflicted ;  nay,  it  is  a  complication  of  all  its  diseases.  What, 
my  fellow-men,  would  any  of  you  think  of  the  physician  who 
should  consult  with  an  individual  organism  with  a  view  to  taking 
that  organism's  opinion  as  to  what  course  he  (the  physician)  had 
best  pursue  in  order  to  cure  him  (the  organism)  of  scrofula, 
complicated  with  every  other  bodily  disease  to  which  flesh  is 
heir  1  Would  not  the  patient,  if  he  had  one  spark  of  common 
sense  left,  order  such  a  doctor. out  of  doors?  with  "Sir,  I  ex- 
pected aid  from  your  science  and  your  healing  art;  and  did  not 
employ  you  to  mock  and  insult  me  in  my  wretchedness." 

Would  anyone  who  possessed  a  spark  of  reason,  even,  venture 


CONCLUDING  APPLICATION.  107 

•at  sea  in  a  vessel,  with  respect  to  the  management  of  which, 
the  vote  of  all  who  happened  to  go  on  board  was  going  to  be 
taken  1  And  do  the  managers  of  the  ship  of  state  require  less 
preparation  than  do  common  sailors  1  Do  they  not  require  so 
much  more  useful  knowledge  than  they  have  ever  been  qualified 
with,  that  they  have  always  wrecked  or  capsized  tho  ship  of 
state,  except  where  it  is  only  a  question  of  time  when  they  will 
do  so  1  Evidently,  church  and  state  management  require  art 
and  skill  infinitely  superior  to  what  "  supernaturalism  "  and  its 
legitimate  child,  monarchism,  or  its  bastard  issue,  caucus-and- 
ballot-boxism,  are  capable  of.  From  the  dissecting  room;  the 
chemical  laboratory ;  the  astronomical  observatory ;  physicians' 
and  physiologists'  study ;  in  fine  from  all  the  schools  of  science 
and  art,  should  human  law  be  declared,  instead  of  being  "  en- 
acted" in  legislative  halls,  by  those  who,  in  every  respect  besides 
political  trickery,  fraud,  and  "smartness,"  are  perfect  ignor- 
amuses. 

Nature  throughout,  must  be  so  modified  (not  changed);  so 
liberated  from  the  thraldom  of  antagonism  or  counteraction,'  in 
short,  so  improved  by  art,  that  the  conditions  which  now  neces- 
sitate despotism  and  evil  will  be  superseded  by  those  which 
will  make  liberty,  and  all  that  is  desirable,  as  spontaneous  as  is 
the  order  of  the  spheres. 

Man  naturally  desires  to  be  good.  There  is  not,  never  was, 
and  never  can  be,  a  sane  human  being  who  would  not  like  to 
have  things  so  arranged,  that  every  human  desire  cculd  be  fully 
gratifed,  instead  of,  as  now, almost  wholly  denied  gratification; 
man's  "  holy  "or  "  heavenly  "  desires, — the  very  quintessence 
of  sensualness,  are  a  constant,  and  will  be  an  everlasting  testi- 
mony to  the  truth  of  this. 

Priestcraft  cannot  be  put  down  till  man  obtains  his  "  being's 
end  and  aim,"  or  is  satisfied  that  it  is  attainable,  in  this  ma- 
terial, this  perceptible,  this  sense-world.  To  desire  must  be  to 
possess,  with  the  exception  (if  it  can  be  called  an  exception)  of 
the  intervention  of  just  exertion  enough  to  give  to  possession 
its  due,  value.  Mankind  will,  with  few  exceptions,  scorn  reason, 
so  long  as  it  arrays  itself  against  human  instinct;  against  what 
man  feels  to  be  true.  And  until  science  and  art  give  man  (or 
assures  him  that  they  can  give  him)  the  perfect  and  sufficiently 
lasting  happiness  which  he  instinctively  knows  that  the  power 
which  created  him  owes  him  and  stands  pledged  to  give  him  or 
turn  out  to  be  an  almighty  failure,  he  will  pursue  that  hap  pi- 


108  CONCLUDING  APPLICATION. 

ness  even  beyond  the  grave;  with  priestcraft  for  his  guide,  of 
course. 

Can  nature  or  all  existence,  fail  ?  and  allow  the  drafts  which, 
on  the  indisputable  testimony  of  the  human  passion,  she  has 
authorized  her  highest  beings  to  draw  on  her,  to  be  protested  ? 
Surely,  "  supernaturalism  "  itself  is  less  absurd  than  this. 

Friends  of  human  rights  !  Believers  in  progress  !  Is  anything 
more  certain,  than  that  combined  science  and  its  corresponding 
art,  or  full  and  complete  development,  must  prove  adequate  to 
all  for  which  "  miracle  "  can  be  intelligibly  invoked  ? 

Ignorance  with  respect  to  this,  then;  ignorance  of  how  to 
develop  nature's  resources,  and  modify  and  harmoniously  com- 
bine her  powers,  so  as  to  liberate  her  tendency  to  perfection 
from  all  obstructions — so  as  that  her  means  will  be  correspon- 
dent to  her  ends, — constitutes  the  tyrant  in  search  of  whom  we 
started.  There  he  stands  !  But  he  is  not  invulnerable,  nor  is 
his  fearfully,  ay,  all  but  "  supernaturally  "  strong  fortress  im- 
pregnable. Let  us  "  up  and  at  him,"  then  as  determinedly  as 
our  sires  of  glorious  memory  charged  his  minions  at  Bunker 
Hill.  Parleying,  as  we  have  learned  by  long,  sad  experience, 
is  sheer  nonsense ;  quarter  being  out  of  the  question.  This  arch 
enemy  of  mankind  must  be  annihilated  before  liberty  can  be 
an  actuality.  And  the  religious  faith  of  the  human  race  must 
be  transferred  from  the  mysterious  and  impossible,  and  from 
their  correlates,  the  subjective  and  speculative,  to  the  intelli- 
gible and  practical.  And  these  must  be  shown  capable  of  ful- 
filling man's  highest  aspirations,  before  he  can  truly  understand 
the  mission,  &nd  fully  appreciate  the  worth  of  THOMAS  PAINE. 

I  trust  I  have  shown  that,  to  conquer  the  tyrant  which 
ignorance  of  how  to  be  free  constitutes,  was  the  common  aim, 
and  the  real,  however  glimmeringly  perceived  object,  of  the 
exertions  of  Rosseau,  Paine,  Comte,  and  all  the  other  author- 
heroes  and  heroines,  who  have  ever  written.  In  conclusion 
allow  me  to  propose  a  crisis-question  for  the  practical  consulta- 
tion upon,  of  my  friends,  whose  religion  (if  I  may  be  allowed  to 
accuse  them  of  having  any)  reason  and  free  discussion  compose. 

How  can  man  be  extricated  from  having  to  grovel  round  and 
round  and  round  in  the  hopeless  orbit  which  has  mystery  for 
its  centre,  monarchy  for  his  aphelion,  deroagogism  for  itsperi- 
helion,  and  unvarnished  wretchedness  or  gilded  misery  for  its 
whole  course,  except  by  scientifically,  artistically,  and  unitedly 
creating  the  requisite  conditions  for  Actual  Liberty  ? 


CONCLUDING  APPLICATION.  109 

All  have  their  hobby.  Mine,  it  will  be  pretty  clearly  per- 
ceived is, — that  nature,  through  development,  will  prove  all- 
sufficient. 

Come,  all  ye  who  delight  in  the  amble  of  that  well-tried  hack, 
— popular  religious,  political,  and  sociological  discussion,  and 
who  do  not  not  like  the  complexion  of  present  religious,  politi- 
cal, and  social  institutions,  and  who  are  not  enamoured  of  the 
millennium  which  I  have  shown  would  constitute  their  ultima- 
tum : — If  you  object  to  Art-Liberty,  please  to  lot  the  world  know 
definitely,  what  you  do  propose. 


110  APPENDIX, 


APPENDIX. 


As  one  of  the  most  heroic  acts  of  Thomas  "7am  's  ^ife,  "TiA 
one  which  also  showed  the  profoundness  of  his  political  •wise  i, 
was  his  speech  in  opposition  to  the  execution  of  Louis  XVI.  [ 
wish  to  draw  particular  attention  to  it;  and  therefore  give  it  a 
place  in  an  Appendix;  for  I  have  observed  that  even  the  most 
cursory  readers  generally  look  at  the  end  of  a  work. 

This  speech,  Mr.  Paine  well  understood,  would  expose  him  to 
the  fiercest  wrath  of  the  Jacobins,  who,  sustained  by  the  trium- 
phant rabble,  had  resolved,  in  the  king's  case,  to  dispense  with 
even  the/orms  of  "justice,"  to  the  extent  of  setting  aside  the 
rule  which  required  the  sanction  of  a  two-thirds  majority  for 
the  infliction  of  the  death  penalty.  "We  vote,"  protested 
Lanjuinais,  when  the  balloting  was  ordered  to  commence, 
"  under  the  daggers  and  the  cannon  of  the  factions." 

In  order  to  more  fully  understand  in  what  fearful  peril  Mr. 
Paine  voluntarily  placed  himself  by  delivering  this  speech,  it 
will  be  necessary  to  know  that  "the  factions"  to  which  deputy 
Lanjuinais  referred,  were  composed  of  the  cruel  monsters  (and 
their  abettors)  who,  a  short  time  before,  had  "labored,"  as 
their  horrible,  but  "  disinterested "  leader,  Maillard,  termed  it, 
during  thirty-six  hours,  at  massacreing  the  unarmed  prisoners, 
who  had  been  committed  on  mere  suspicion  of  not  being  friendly 
to  the  powers  that  then  held  sway;  and  for  which  "labor," 
its  zealous  and  industrious  performers,  all  covered  with  blood 
and  brains,  demanded  instant  payment  of  the  committee  of  the 
municipality,  threatening  them  with  instant  death  if  they  did 
not  comply. 

"  Do  you  think  I  have  earned  only  twenty-four  francs  1"  said 
one  of  these  principled  assassins,  brandishing  a  massive  weapor 
"  why,  I  nave  siain  forty  with  my  own  hands." 


APPENDIX.  Ill 

ZTEECTT  OF  THOMAS  PATNE,  AS  DEPUTY  IN  THE  NATIONAL 

COJS  VENTION  OF  FRANCE,  IN  OPPOSITION  TO 

THE  EXECUTION  OF  THE  KING. 

CITIZEN  PRESIDENT: 

MY  hatred  and  abhorrence  of  absolute  monarchy  are  suffici- 
ently known;  they  originated  in  principles  of  reason  and 
conviction,  nor,  except  with  life,  can  they  ever  be  extirpated ; 
but  my  compassion  for  the  unfortunate,  whether  friend  or 
eneruy,  is  equally  lively  and  sincere. 

I  voted  that  Louis  should  be  tried,  because  it  was  necessary 
to  afford  proofs  to  the  world  of  the  perhdy,  corruption  and 
abomination  o?  the  French  government. 

The  infinity  of  evidence  that  has  been  produced  exposes  them 
iii  the  most  glaring  and  hideous  colors. 

Nevertheless  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  if  Louis  Capet  had 
been  born  in  an  obscure  condition,  had  he  lived  within  the  circle 
of  an  amiable  and  respectable  neighborhood,  at  liberty  to  prac- 
tice the  duties  of  domestic  life,  had  he  been  thus  situated  I  can- 
not believe  that  he  would  have  shown  himself  destitute  of  social 
virtues;  we  are,  in  a  moment  of  fermentation  like  this,  natur- 
ally little  indulgent  to  his  vices,  or  rather  to  those  of  his  gov- 
ernment; we  regard  them  with  additional  horror  and  indigna- 
tion; not  that  they  are  more  heinous  than  those  of  his  prede- 
cessors, but  because  our  eyes  are  now  open,  and  the  veil  of 
delusion  at  length  withdrawn;  yet  the  lamentably  degraded 
state  to  which  he  is  actually  reduced  is  surely  far  less  imputable 
to  him  than  to  the  constituent  assembly  which,  of  its  own 
authority,  without  consent  or  advice  of  the  people,  restored  him 
to  the  throne. 

I  was  present  at  the  time  of  the  flight  or  abdication  of  Louis 
XVI.,  and  when  he  was  taken  and  brought  back.  The  proposal 
of  restoring  to  him  the  supreme  power  struck  me  with  amaze- 
ment; and  although  at  that  time  I  was  not  a  citizen,  yet  as  a 
citizen  of  the  world,  1  employed  all  the  efforts  that  depended  on 
uie  to  prevent  it. 

A  small  society  composed  only  of  five  persons,'  two  of  whom 
are  now  members  of  the  convention,  took  at  that  time  the  name 
of  the  Republican  Club  (Societe  Republicaine).  This  society 
opposed  the  restoration  of  Louis,  not  so  much  on  account  of 
'MS  pD?sonal  offences,  as  in  order  to  overthrow  monarchy,  and 


112  APPENDIX. 

to  erect  on  its  ruins  the  republican  system  and  an  equal  repre- 
sentation. 

With  this  design  I  traced  out  in  the  English  language 
certain  propositions  which  were  translated,  with  some  trifling 
alteration,  and  signed  by  Achilles  Duchelclet,  lieutenant-general 
in  the  army  of  the  French  republic,  and  at  that  time  one  of 
the  five  members  which  composed  our  little  party;  the  law 
requiring  the  signature  of  a  citizen  at  the  bottom  of  each  printed 
paper. 

The  paper  was  inclignatly  torn  by  Malouet,  and  brought  forth 
in  this  very  room  as  an  article  of  accusation  against  the  person 
who  had  signed  it,  the  author,  and  their  adherents ;  but  such  is 
the  revolution  of  events  that  this  paper  is  now  revived,  and 
brought  forth  for  a  very  opposite  purpose. 

To  remind  the  nation  of  the  error  of  that  unfortunate  day, 
that  fatal  error  of  not  having  then  banished  Louis  XVI.  from 
its  bosom,  the  paper  in  question  was  conceived  in  the  following 
terms;  and  I  bring  it  forward  this  day  to  plead  in  favor  of  his 
•exile  preferably  to  his  death. 

"  Brethren,  and  fellow  Citizens:  The  serene  tranquility,  the 
mutual  confidence  which  prevailed  amongst  us  during  the  time 
of  the  late  king's  escape,  the  indifference  with  which  we  beheld 
him  return,  are  unequivocal  proofs  that  the  absence  of  the  king 
is  more  desirable  than  his  presence,  and  that  he  is  not  only  a 
political  superfluity  but  a  grievous  burthen  pressing  hard  on  the 
whole  nation. 

"  Let  us  not  be  imposed  on  by  sophisms :  all  that  concerns 
this  man  is  reduced  to  four  points.  He  has  abdicated  the 
throne  in  having  fled  from  his  post.  Abdication  and  desertion 
are  not  characterized  by  length  of  absence,  but  by  the  single  act 
of  flight.  In  the  present  instance  the  act  is  everything,  and 
the  time  nothing. 

"  The  nation  can  never  give  back  its  confidence  to  a  man 
who,  false  to  his  trust,  perjured  to  his  oath,  conspires  a  clandes- 
tine flight,  obtains  a  fraudulent  passport,  conceals  the  king  of 
France  under  the  disguise  of  a  valet,  directs  his  course  towards 
a  frontier  covered  with  traitors  and  deserters,  and  evidently 
meditates  a  return  into  our  country  with  a  force  capable  of  im- 
posing his  own  despotic  laws.  Ought  his  flight  to  be  considered 
as  his  own  act,  or  the  act  of  those  who  fled  with  him  1  Was  it 
a  spontaneous  resolution  of  his  own,  or  was  it  inspired  into  him 
by  others?  The  alternative  is  immaterial:  whether  fool  o:- 


APPENDIX. 

iiypocrite,  idiot  or  traitor,  he  has  proved  himself  equally  un- 
worthy of  the  vast  and  important  functions  that  have  been 
delegated  to  him. 

"  In  every  sense  that  the  question  can  be  considered,  the  re- 
ciprocal obligations  which  subsisted  between  us  are  dissolved. 
He  holds  no  longer  authority;  we  owe  him  no  longer  obedience; 
we  see  in  him  no  more  than  an  indifferent  person ;  we  can  re- 
gard him  only  as  Lou's  Capet. 

"The  history  of  France  presents  little  else  than  a  long  series 
of  public  calamity  which  takes  its  source  from  the  vices  of  her 
kings:  we  have  been  the  wretched  victims  that  have  never 
qgased  to  suffer  either  for  them  or  by  them.  The  catalogue 
of  their  oppressions  was  complete,  but  to  complete  the  sum  of 
their  crimes,  treason  was  yet  wanting;  now  the  only  vacancy  is 
filled  up,  the  dreadful  list  is  full;  the  system  is  exhausted; 
there  are  no  remaining  errors  for  them  to  commit,  their  reign  is 
consequently  at  an  end. 

"  As  to  the  personal  safety  of  Mr.  Louis  Capet,  it  is  so  much 
the  more  confirmed,  as  France  will  not  stop  to  degrade  herself 
by  a  spirit  of  revenge  against  a  wretch  who  has  dishonored  him- 
self. In  defending  a  just  and  glorious  cause  it  is  not  possible 
to  degrade  it;  and  the  universal  tranquility  which  prevails  is 
an  undeniable  proof  that  a  free  people  know  how  to  respect 
themselves." 

Having  thus  explained  the  principles  and  exertions*of  the 
republicans  at  that  fatal  ppriod  when  Louis  was  reinstated  in 
full  possession  of  the  executive  power  which  by  his  flight  had 
been  suspended,  I  return  to  the  subject,  and  to  the  deplorable 
condition  in  which  the  man  is  now  actually  involved.  What 
was  neglected  at  the  time  of  which  I  have  been  speaking  has 
been  since  brought  about  by  the  force  of  necessity. 

The  wilful  treacherous  defects  in  the  former  constitution 
had  been  brought  to  light,  the  continual  alarm  of  treason  and 
conspiracy  roused  the  nation  and  produced  eventfully  a  second 
revolution.  The  people  have  beat  down  royalty,  never,  never 
to  rise  again ;  they  have  brought  Louis  Capet  to  the  bar,  and 
demonstrated  in  the  face  of  the  whole  world,  the  intrigues,  the 
falsehood,  corruption,  and  rooted  depravity  of  his  government: 
there  remains  then  only  one  question  to  be  considered,  what  is 
to  be  done  with  this  man  ? 

For  myself,  I  freely  confess  that  when  I  reflect  on  the  unac- 
countable folly  that  restored  the  executive  power  to  his  hands, 


1 14  APPENDIX. 

all  covered  as  he  was  with  perjuries  and  treason,  I  am  far 
more  ready  to  condemn  the  constituent  assembly  than  the 
unfortunate  prisoner,  Louis  Capet. 

But,  abstracted  from  every  other  consideration,  there  is 
one  circumstance  in  his  life  which  ought  to  cover  or  at  least  to 
palliate  a  great  number  of  his  transgressions,  and  this  very 
circumstance  affords  the  French  nation  a  blessed  occasion  of 
extricating  itself  from  the  yoke  of  its  kings  without  defiling 
itself  in  the  impurities  of  their  blood. 

It  is  to  France  alone,  I  know,  that  the  United  States  of 
America  owe  that  support  which  enabled  them  to  shake  off 
an  unjust  and  tyrannical  yoke.  The  ardor  and  zeal  which  she 
displayed  to  provide  both  men  and  money  were  the  natural 
consequences  of  a  thirst  for  liberty.  But  as  the  nation  at  that 
time,  restrained  by  the  shackles  of  her  own  Government, 
could  only  act  by  means  of  a  monarchical  organ,  this  organ, 
whatever  in  other  respects  the  object  might  be,  certainly  per- 
formed a  good,  a  great  action. 

Let  then  these  United  States  be  the  safeguard  and  asylum 
of  Louis  Capet.  There,  hereafter,  far  removed  from  the  mis- 
eries and  crimes  of  royalty,  he  may  learn  from  the  constant 
aspect  of  public  prosperity,  that  the  true  system  of  govern- 
ment consists  in  fair,  equal  and  honorable  representation. 
In  relating  this  circumstance,  and  in  submitting  this  propo- 
sition, I  consider  myself  as  a  citizen  of  both  countries. 

I  submit  it  as  a  citizen  of  America  who  feels  the  debt  of 
gratitude  which  he  owes  to  every  Frenchman.  I  submit  it 
also  as  a  man  who  cannot  forget  that  kings  are  subject  to 
human  frailties.  I  support  my  proposition  as  a  citizen  of 
the  French  republic,  because  it  appears  to  me  the  best,  the 
most  politic  measure  that  can  be  adopted. 

As  far  as  my  experience  in  public  life  extends,  I  have  ever 
observed  that  the  great  mass  of  the  people  are  invariably  just, 
both  in  their  intentions  and  in  their  objects;  but  the  true 
method  of  accomplishing  that  effect,  does  not  always  show 
itself  in  the  first  instance.  For  example,  the  English  nation 
has  groaned  under  the  despotism  of  the  Stuarts.  Hence 
Charles  I  lost  his  life;  yet  Charles  the  lid.  was  restored  to 
all  the  plenitude  of  power  which  his  father  had  lost 
Forty  years  had  not  expired  when  the  same  family  strove 
to  re-establish  their  ancient  oppression;  so  the  nation 
then  banished  from  its  territories  the  whole  tyrannical 
race..  The  remedy  was  effectual;  the  Stuart  family  sunk 


APPENDIX.  115 

into  obscurity,  confounded  itself  with  the  multitude,  and  is  at 
length  extinct. 

The  French  nation  has  carried  her  measures  of  govern- 
ment to  a  greater  length.  France  is  not  satisfied  with  exposing 
the  guilt  of  the  monarch,  she  has  penetrated  into  the  vices  and 
horrors  of  the  monarchy.  She  has  shown  them  clear  as  day- 
light, and  for  ever  crushed  that  system;  and  he,  whoever  he 
may  be,  that  should  ever  dare  to  reclaim  those  rights,  would  be 
regarded  not  as  a  pretender,  but  punished  as  a  traitor. 

Two  brothers  of  Louis  Capet  have  banished  themselves  from 
the  country,  but  they  are  obliged  to  comply  with  the  spirit  and 
etiquette  of  the  courts  where  they  reside. 

They  can  advance  no  pretensions  on  their  own  account,  so 
long  as  Louis  shall  live. 

The  history  of  monarchy  in  France  was  a  system  pregnant 
with  crimes  and  murders,  cancelling  all  natural  ties,  even  those 
by  which  brothers  are  united.  We  know  how  often  they  have 
assassinated  each  other  to  pave  a  way  to  power.  As  those 
hopes  which  the  emigrants  had  reposed  in  Louis  XVI.  are  fled, 
the  last  that  remains  rests  upon  his  death,  and  their  situation 
inclines  them  to  desire  this  catastrophe,  that  they  may  once 
again  rally  round  a  more  active  chief,  and  try  one  further  effort 
under  the  fortune  of  the  cidevant  Monsieur  and  d'Artois.  That 
such  an  enterprise  would  precipitate  them  into  a  new  abyss  of 
calamity  and  disgrace,  it  is  not  difficult  to  foresee ;  yet  it  might 
be  attended  with  mutual  loss,  and  it  is  our  duty,  as  legislators, 
not  to  spill  a  drop  of  blood  when  our  purpose  may  be  effectually 
accomplished  without  it.  It  has  been  already  proposed  to 
abolish  the  punishment  of  death,  and  it  is  with  infinite  satis- 
faction that  I  recollect  the  humane  and  excellent  oration  pro- 
nounced by  Robespierre  on  that  subject  in  the  constituent 
assembly.*  This  cause  must  find  its  advocates  in  every  corner 

*  Pause,  reader,  and  weep  over  the  blindness  of  those  reformers  who 
depend  on  principle  and  good  intention.  Robespierre  preached  (oh,  the 
"foolishness  of  [popular]  preaching"  where  social  science  is  in  question) 
against  the  death-penalty  !  And  there  can  be  no  reasonable  doubt  but  that 
he  was,  in  principle,  opposed  to  it. 

Marat  once  confidently  exclaimed,  in  reference  to  his  known  incormpt- 
ness  : — "A  patriot  so  pure  as  myself,  might  communicate  with  the  Devil." 
The  appropriateness  of  his  association  of  personages  a,nd  attributes,  he  proba- 
bly did  not  suspect. 

When,  oh  when,  will  principle  and  moralism,  and  that  main  supporter  of 
"  vice," — "virtue,"  give  place  to  practical  goodness? 

"Fly  swifter  round  ye  wheels  of  time» 
&.nd  bring  the  welcome  clay." 


116  APPENDIX. 

where  enlightened  politicians  and  lovers  of  humanity  exist,  and 
it  ought  above  ail  to  find  them  in  this  assembly. 

Bad  governments  have  trained  the  human  race,  and  inured  it 
to  the  sanguinary  arts  and  refinements  of  punishment ;  and  it  is 
exactly  the  same  punishment  that  has  so  long  shocked  the  siyld 
and  tormented  the  patience  of  tlie  people  which  now  in  their  turn 
they  practise  in  revenge  on  their  oppressors. 

But  it  becomes  us  to  be  strictly  on  our  guard  against  the 
abomination  and  perversity  of  such  examples.  As  France  has 
been  the  first  of  European  nations  to  amend  her  government, 
let  her  also  be  the  first  to  abolish  the  punishment  of  death,  and 
to  find  out  a  milder  and  more  effectual  substitute. 

In  the  particular  case  now  under  consideration,  I  submit  the 
following  propositions, — 1st.  That  the  national  convention  shall 
pronounce  the  sentence  of  banishment  on  Louis  and  his  family : 
2nd.  That  Louis  Capet  shall  be  detained  in  prison  till  the  end 
of  the  war,  and  then  the  sentence  of  banishment  to  be  executed 


THE  un>. 


AGE  OF  REASON. 


FELLOW  CITIZENS 


OF    THE 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA. 


I  PUT  the  following  work  itnder  your  protection.  It  contains 
my  opinion  upon  Religion.  You  will  do  me  the  justice  to  remem- 
ber, that  I  have  always  strenuously  supported  the  Eight  of  every 
Man  to  his  opinion,  however  different  that  opinion  might  be  to 
mine.  He  who  denies  to  another  this  right,  makes  a  slave  of  him- 
self to  his  present  opinion,  because  he  precludes  himself  the  right 
of  changing  it. 

The  most  formidable  weapon  against  errors  of  every  kind  is 
Reason.  I  have  never  used  any  other,  and  I  trust  I  never  shall. 

Your  affectionate  friend  and  fellow  citizen, 

THOMAS  PAINE. 

Luxembourg,  (Paris,')  8th  Pulwise, 

Second  year  of  the  French  Republic,  one  and  indivisible^ 

January  27,  0.  S.  1794. 


THE  AGE  OF  REASON. 


PART  FIRST. 

It  has  been  my  intention,  for  several  yean  past,  to  pub- 
lish my  thoughts  upon  religion;  I  am  well  aware  of  the  diffi- 
culties that  attend  the  subject,  and  from  that  consideration, 
had  reserved  it  to  a  more  advanced  period  of  life.  I  in- 
tended it  to  be  the  last  offering  I  should  make  to  my  fellow- 
citizens  of  all  nations,  and  that  at  a  time  when  the  purity  of 
the  motive  that  induced  me  to  it,  could  not  admit  of  a  ques- 
tion, even  by  those  who  might  disapprove  the  work. 

The  circumstance  that  has  now  taken  place  in  France  of 
the  total  abolition  of  the  whole  national  order  of  priest- 
hood, and  of  every  thing  appertaining  to  compulsive  systems 
of  religion,  and  compulsive  articles  of  faith,  has  not  only 
precipitated  my  intention,  but  rendered  a  work  of  this  kind 
exceedingly  necessary,  lest,  in  the  general  wreck  of  super- 
stition, of  false  systems  of  government,  and  false  theology, 
we  lose  sight  of  morality,  of  humanity,  and  of  the  theology 
that  is  true. 

As  several  of  my  colleagues,  and  others  of  my  fellow- 
citizens  of  France,  have  given  me  the  example  of  making 
their  voluntary  and  individual  profession  of  faith,  I  also  wiU 
make  mine;  and  I  do  this  with  all  that  sincerity  and  frank- 
ness with  which  the  mind  of  man  communicates  with  itself. 

I  believe  in  one  God,  and  no  more;  and  I  hope  for  happi- 
ness beyond  this  life. 

I  believe  in  the  equality  of  man;  and  I  believe  that  re- 
ligious duties  consist  in  doing  justice,  loving  mercy,  and 
endeavoring  to  make  our  fellow  creatures  happy. 

But,  lest  it  should  be  supposed  that  I  believe  many  other 
thingi  in  addition  to  these,  I  shall,  in  the  progress  of  this 


•  TEX    AGE   OF    BBASOH.  [PUR  X. 

work,  declare  the  things  I  do  not  believe,  and  my  reasons 
for  not  believing  them. 

I  do  not  believe  in  the  creed  professed  by  the  Jewish 
church,  by  the  Roman  church,  by  the  Greek  church,  by  the 
Turkish  church,  by  the  Protestant  church,  nor  by  any  church 
that  I  know  of.  My  own  mind  is  my  own  church. 

All  national  institutions  of  churches,  whether  Jewish, 
Christian,  or  Turkish,  appear  to  me  no  other  than  human  in- 
ventions,  set  up  to  terrify  and  enslave  mankind,  and  monop- 
olize power  and  profit. 

I  do  not  mean  by  this  declaration  to  condemn  those  who 
believe  otherwise;  they  have  the  same  right  to  their  belief 
as  I  have  to  mine.  But  it  is  necessary  to  the  happiness  of 
man,  that  he  be  mentally  faithful  to  himself.  Infidelity 
does  not  consist  in  believing,  or  in  disbelieving;  it  consists 
in  professing  to  believe  what  he  does  not  believe. 

It  is  impossible  to  calculate  the  moral  mischief,  if  I  may 
•o  express  it,  that  mental  lying  has  produced  in  society. 
When  a  man  has  so  far  corrupted  and  prostituted  the  chas- 
tity of  his  mind,  as  to  subscribe  his  professional  belief  to 
things  he  does  not  believe,  he  has  prepared  himself  for  the 
commission  of  every  other  crime.  He  takes  up  the  trade  of 
a  priest  for  the  sake  of  gain,  and,  in  order  to  qualify  himself 
for  that  trade,  he  begins  with  a  perjury.  Can  we  conceive 
anything  more  destructive  to  morality  than  this? 

Soon  after  I  had  published  the  pamphlet,  "  COMMON 
SKNSB,"  in  America,  I  saw  the  exceeding  probability  that  a 
revolution  in  the  system  of  government  would  be  followed 
by  a  revolution  in  the  system  of  religion.  The  adulterous 
connection  of  church  and  state,  wherever  it  had  taken 
place,  whether  Jewish,  Christian,  or  Turkish,  had  so  effec- 
tually prohibited,  by  pains  and  penalties,  every  discussion 
upon  established  creeds,  and  upon  first  principles  of  relig- 
ion, that  until  the  system  of  government  should  be  changed, 
those  subjects  could  not  be  brought  fairly  and  openly  be- 
fore the  world;  but  that  whenever  this  should  be  done,  a  rev- 
olution in  the  system  of  religion  would  follow.  Human  in- 
ventions and  priest-craft  would  be  detected;  and  man  would 
return  to  the  pure,  unmixed,  and  unadulterated  belief  of 
one  God,  and  no  more. 

Every  national  church  or  religion  has  established  itself 
by  pretending  some  special  mission  from  God,  communi- 


PA.ICT   I.J  TBS    AGK    Or    RKA80H.  7 

oated  to  certain  individuals.  The  Jews  hare  their  Moses; 
the  Christians  their  Jesus  Christ,  their  apostles  and  saints; 
and  the  Turks  their  Mahomet,  as  if  the  way  to  God  was  not 
open  to  every  man  alike. 

Each  of  those  churches  show  certain  books,  which  they 
call  revelation,  or  the  word  of  God.  The  Jews  say,  that  their 
word  of  God  was  given  by  God  to  Moses,  face  to  face ;  the 
Christians  say,  that  their  word  of  God  came  by  divine  in- 
spiration; and  the  Turks  say,  that  their  word  of  God  (the 
Koran)  was  brought  by  an  angel  from  Heaven.  Each  of 
those  churches  accuse  the  other  of  unbelief ;  and,  for  my 
own  part,  I  disbelieve  them  all. 

As  it  is  necessary  to  affix  right  ideas  to  words,  I  will, 
before  I  proceed  further  into  the  subject,  offer  some  other 
observations  on  the  word  revelation.  Revelation  when 
applied  to  religion,  means  something  communicated  imme- 
diately from  God  to  man. 

No  man  will  deny  or  dispute  the  power  of  the  Almighty 
to  make  such  a  communication,  if  he  pleases.  But  admit- 
ting, for  the  sake  of  a  case,  that  something  has  been  revealed 
to  a  certain  person,  and  not  revealed  to  any  other  person,  it  is 
revelation  to  that  person  only.  When  he  tells  it  to  a  sec- 
ond person,  a  second  to  a  third,  a  third  to  a  fourth,  and  ao 
on,  it  ceases  to  be  a  revelation  to  all  those  persons.  It  is 
revelation  to  the  first  person  only,  and  hearsay  to  every 
other,  and,  consequently,  they  are  not  obliged  to  believe  it. 

It  is  a  contradiction  in  terms  and  ideas,  to  call  anything 
a  revelation  that  comes  to  us  at  second-hand,  either  verbally 
or  in  writing.  Revelation  is  necessarily  limited  to  the  first 
communication — after  this,  it  is  only  an  account  of  some- 
thing which  that  person  says  was  a  revelation  made  to  him; 
and  though  he  may  find  himself  obliged  to  believe  it,  it  can- 
not be  incumbent  on  me  to  believe  it  in  the  same  manner; 
for  it  was  not  a  revelation  made  to  me,  and  I  have  only  his 
word  for  it  that  it  was  made  to  him. 

When  Moses  told  the  children  of  Israel  that  he  received 
the  two  tables  of  the  commandments  from  the  hands  of  God, 
they  were  not  obliged  to  believe  him,  because  they  had  no 
other  authority  for  it  than  his  telling  them  so;  and  I  have  no 
other  authority  for  it  than  some  historian  telling  me  so.  The 
eommandments  carry  no  internal  evidence  of  divinity  with 
them;  they  contain  some  good  moral  precepts  such  as  any 


8  THK    AUK    Or    KKA80N.  [>AKT  1. 

man  Qualified  to  be  a  law-giver,  or  a  legislator,  could  pro- 
duce himself,  without  haying  recourse  to  supernatural  inter- 
vention.* 

When  I  am  told  that  the  Koran  was  written  in  Heaven, 
and  brought  to  Mahomet  by  an  angel,  the  account  comes  too 
near  the  same  kind  of  hearsay  evidence  and  second-hand 
authority  as  the  former.  I  did  not  see  the  angel  myself, 
and,  therefore,  I  have  a  right  not  to  believe  it. 

When,  also,  I  am  told  that  a  woman  called  the  Virgin  Mary, 
said,  or  gave  out,  that  she  was  with  child  without  any  co- 
habitation with  a  man,  and  that  her  betrothed  husband, 
Joseph,  said  that  an  angel  told  him  so,  I  have  a  right  to  be- 
lieve them  or  not ;  such  a  circumstance  required  a  much 
•tronger  evidence  than  their  bare  word  for  it ;  but  we  have 
not  even  this — for  neither  Joseph  nor  Mary  wrote  any  such 
matter  themselves  ;  it  is  only  reported  by  others  that  they 
laid  to — it  is  hearsay  upon  hearsay,  and  I  do  not  choose  to 
rest  my  belief  upon  such  evidence. 

It  is,  however,  not  difficult  to  account  for  the  credit  that 
was  given  to  the  story  of  Jesus  Christ  being  the  Son  of  God. 
He  was  born  when  the  heathen  mythology  had  still  some 
fashion  and  repute  in  the  world,  and  that  mythology  had  pre- 
pared the  people  for  the  belief  of  such  a  story.  Almost  all 
the  extraordinary  men  that  lived  under  the  heathen  mythol- 
ogy were  reputed  to  be  the  sons  of  some  of  their  gods.  It 
was  not  a  new  thing,  at  that  time,  to  believe  a  man  to  have 
been  celestially  begotten ;  the  intercourse  of  gods  with 
women  was  then  a  matter  of  familiar  opinion.  Their  Jupi- 
ter, according  to  their  accounts,  had  cohabited  with  hun- 
dreds ;  the  story,  therefore,  had  nothing  in  it  either  new,  won- 
derful or  obscene  ;  it  was  conformable  to  the  opinions  that 
then  prevailed  among  the  people  called  Gentiles,  or  Mythol- 
ogists,  and  it  was  those  people  only  that  believed  it.  The 
Jews,  who  had  kept  strictly  to  the  belief  of  one  God,  and  no 
more,  and  who  had  always  rejected  the  heathen  mythology, 
never  credited  the  story. 

It  is  curious  to  observe  how  the  theory  of  what  is  called 
the  Christian  Church,  sprung  out  of  the  tail  of  heathen  my- 
thology. A  direct  incorporation  took  place  in  the  first  in- 
stance, by  making  the  reputed  founder  to  be  celestially  be- 

•II  la,  howpver  necessary  to  except  the  declaration  which  sajf  that  God  vitUt 
M«  tint  of  C/i4  /atfari  upon  tfif  efilidrtn ;  It  1»  contrary  to  every  principle  of 


PAKT   I.j  THB    AOK    OF    KKA8OH.  S 

gotten.  The  trinity  of  gods  that  then  followed  wa»  no  other 
than  a  reduction  of  the  former  plurality,  which  was  about 
twenty  or  thirty  thousand  ;  the  statue  of  Mary  succeeded 
the  statue  of  Diana  of  Ephesus  ;  the  deification  of  heroes 
change  into  the  canonization  of  saints  ;  the  Mythologista 
had  gods  for  everything;  the  Christian  Mythologists  had 
saints  for  everything  ;  the  church  became  as  crowded  with 
the  one  as  the  pantheon  had  been  with  the  other;  and 
Rome  was  the  place  of  both.  The  Christian  theory  is  little 
else  than  the  idolatry  of  the  ancient  Mythologists,  accommo- 
dated to  the  purposes  of  power  and  revenue  ;  and  it  yet  re- 
mains to  reason  and  philosophy  to  abolish  the  amphibious 
fraud. 

Nothing  that  is  here  said  can  apply,  even  with  the  most 
distant  disrespect,  to  the  real  character  of  Jesus  Christ.  He 
was  a  virtuous  and  an  amiable  man.  The  morality  that  he 
preached  and  practiced  was  of  the  most  benevolent  kind; 
and  though  similar  systems  of  morality  had  been  preached 
by  Confucius,  and  by  some  of  the  Greek  philosophers,  many 
years  before;  by  the  Quakers  since;  and  by  many  good  men 
in  all  ages,  it  has  not  been  exceeded  by  any. 

Jesus  Christ  wrote  no  account  of  himself  of  his  birth, 
parentage,  or  anything  else;  not  a  line  of  what  is  called  the 
New  Testament  is  of  his  own  writing.  The  history  of  him  is 
altogether  the  work  of  other  people;  and  as  to  the  account 
given  of  his  resurrection  and  ascension,  it  was  the  necessary 
counterpart  to  the  story  of  his  birth.  His  historians,  having 
brought  him  into  the  world  in  a  supernatural  manner,  were 
obliged  to  take  him  out  again  in  the  same  manner,  or  the 
first  part  of  the  story  must  have  fallen  to  the  ground. 

The  wretched  contrivance  with  which  this  latter  part  u 
told,  exceeds  everything  that  went  before  it.  The  first  part, 
that  of  the  miraculous  conception,  was  not  a  thing  that 
admitted  of  publicity;  and  therefore  the  tellers  of  this  part 
of  the  story  had  this  advantage,  that  though  they  might  not 
be  credited^  they  could  not  be  detected.  They  could  not  be 
expected  to  prove  it,  because  it  was  not  one  oif  those  things 
that  admitted  of  proof,  and  it  was  impossible  that  the  person 
of  whom  it  was  told  could  prove  it  himself. 

But  the  resurrection  of  a  dead  person  from  the  grave, 
and  his  ascension  through  the  air,  is  a  thing  very  different  as 
to  the  evidence  it  admits  of,  to  the  invisible  conception  of  a 


10  THE    AOK    OF    BKA8OB.  [PAKT  L 

child  in  the  womb.  The  resurrection  and  ascension,  suppos- 
ing them  to  have  taken  place,  admitted  of  public  and  ocular 
demonstration,  like  that  of  the  ascension  of  a  balloon,  or  the 
sun  at  noon  day,  to  all  Jerusalem  at  least.  A  thing  which 
everybody  is  required  to  believe,  reauires  that  the  proof  and 
evidence  of  it  should  be  equal  to  all,  and  universal;  and  as 
the  public  risibility  of  this  last  related  act,  was  the  only 
evidence  that  could  give  sanction  to  the  former  part,  the 
whole  of  it  falls  to  the  ground,  because  that  evidence  never 
was  given.  Instead  of  this,  a  small  number  of  persons,  not 
more  than  eight  or  nine,  are  introduced  as  proxies  for  the 
whole  world,  to  say  they  saw  it,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  world 
are  called  upon  to  believe  it.  But  it  appears  that  Thomas  did 
not  believe  the  resurrection;  and,  as  they  say,  would  not  be- 
lieve without  having  ocular  and  manual  demonstration  him- 
self. So  neither  will  I,  and  the  reason  is  equally  as  good 
for  me,  and  for  every  other  person,  as  for  Thomas. 

It  is  in  vain  to  attempt  to  palliate  or  disguise  this  matter. 
The  story,  so  far  as  relates  to  the  supernatural  part,  has 
every  mark  of  fraud  and  imposition  stamped  upon  the  face 
of  it.  Who  were  the  authors  of  it  is  as  impossible  for  us 
now  to  know,  as  it  is  for  us  to  be  assured,  that  the  books  in 
which  the  account  is  related,  were  written  by  the  persons 
whose  names  they  bear;  the  best  surviving  evidence  we  now 
have  respecting  this  affair  is  the  Jews.  They  are  regularly 
descended  from  the  people  who  lived  in  the  time  this  resur- 
rection and  ascension  is  said  to  have  happened,  and  they 
say,  it  is  not  true.  It  has  long  appeared  to  me  a  strange  in- 
consistency to  cite  the  Jews  as  a  proof  of  the  truth  of  the 
story.  It  is  just  the  same  as  if  a  man  were  to  say,  I  will 
prove  the  truth  of  what  I  have  told  you  by  producing  the 
people  who  say  it  is  false. 

That  such  a  person  as  Jesus  Christ  existed,  and  that  he 
was  crucified,  which  was  the  mode  of  execution  at  that  day, 
are  historical  relations  strictly  within  the  limits  of  proba- 
bility. He  preached  most  excellent  morality,  and  the 
equality  of  man ;  but  he  preached  also  against  the  corruptions 
and  avarice  of  the  Jewish  priests,  and  this  brought  upon  him 
the  hatred  and  vengeance  of  the  whole  order  of  priesthood. 
The  accusation  which  those  priests  brought  against  him  was 
that  of  sedition  and  conspiracy  against  the  Roman  govern- 
ment, to  which  the  Jews  were  then  subject  and  tributary; 


?ABT  1.]  THE    AOE    OF    KKASON  11 

and  it  is  not  improbable  that  the  Roman  government  might 
have  some  secret  apprehensions  of  the  effects  of  his  doctrine 
as  well  as  the  Jewish  priests;  neither  is  it  improbable  that 
Jesus  Christ  had  in  contemplation  the  delivery  of  the  Jewish 
nation  from  the  bondage  of  the  Romans.  Between  the  two, 
however,  this  virtuous  reformer  and  revolutionist  lost  his 
life. 

It  is  upon  this  plain  narrative  of  facts,  together  with 
another  case  I  am  going  to  mention,  that  the  Christian 
Mythologists,  calling  themselves  the  Christian  Church,  have 
erected  their  fable,  which,  for  absurdity  and  extravagance,  is 
not  exceeded  by  anything  that  is  to  be  found  in  the  mythol- 
ogy of  the  ancients. . 

The  ancient  Mythologists  tell  us  that  the  race  of  Giants 
made  war  against  Jupiter,  and  that  one  of  them  threw  a 
hundred  rocks  against  him  at  one  throw;  that  Jupiter 
defeated  him  with  thunder,  and  confined  him  afterwards 
under  Mount  Etna,  and  that  every  time  the  Giant  turns  him- 
self, Mount  Etna  belches  fire. 

It  is  here  easy  to  see  that  the  circumstance  of  the  mount- 
ain, that  of  its  being  a  volcano,  suggested  the  idea  of  the 
fable;  and  that  the  fable  is  made  to  It  and  wind  itself  up 
with  that  circumstance. 

The  Christian  Mythologists  tells  us,  that  their  Satan  made 
war  against  the  Almighty,  who  defeated  him,  and  confined 
Kim  afterwards,  not  under  a  mountain,  but  in  a  pit.  It  is 
here  easy  to  see  that  the  first  fable  suggested  the  idea  of  the 
second;  for  the  fable  of  Jupiter  and  the  Giants  was  told 
many  hundred  years  before  that  of  Satan. 

Thus  far  the  ancient  and  the  Christian  Mythologists  differ 
very  little  from  each  other.  But  the  latter  have  contrived 
to  carry  the  matter  much  further.  They  have  contrived  to 
connect  the  fabulous  part  of  the  story  of  Jesus  Christ  with 
the  fable  originating  from  Mount  Etna;  and,  in  order  to 
make  all  the  parts  of  the  story  tie  together,  they  have  taken 
to  their  aid  the  traditions  of  the  Jews;  for  the  Christian  my- 
thology is  made  up  partly  from  the  ancient  mythology,  and 
partly  from  the  Jewish  traditions. 

The  Christian  Mythologists  after  having  confined  Satan 
in  a  pit,  were  obliged  to  let  him  out  again  to  bring  on  the 
sequel  of  the  fable.  He  is  then  introduced  into  the  Garden 
of  Eden  in  the  shape  of  a  snake  or  a  serpent,  and  in  that 


li  THK    AUK    Of    REASON.  [PJLBT  1. 

shape  he  enters  into  familiar  conversation  with  Eve,  who  IB 
no  way  surprised  to  hear  a  snake  talk ;  and  the  issue  of  this 
tete-a-tete  is,  that  he  persuades  her  to  eat  an  apple,  and  the 
eating  of  that  apple  damns  all  mankind. 

After  giving  Satan  this  triumph  over  the  whole  creation, 
one  would  have  supposed  that  the  church  Mythologists  would 
have  been  kind  enough  to  send  him  back  to  the  pit ;  or,  if 
they  had  not  done  this,  that  they  would  have  put  a  mountain 
upon  him,  (for  they  say  that  their  faith  can  remove  a  mount- 
ain,) or  have  put  him  under  a  mountain,  as  the  former  Mythol- 
ogists had  done,  to  prevent  his  getting  again  among  the 
women  and  doing  more  mischief.  But  instead  of  this,  they 
leave  him  at  large,  without  even  obliging  him  to  give  his 
parole — the  secret  of  which  is,  that  they  could  not  do  with- 
out him  ;  and  after  being  at  the  trouble  of  making  him,  they 
bribed  him  to  stay.  They  promised  him  ALL  the  Jews,  ALL 
the  Turks  by  anticipation,  nine-tenths  of  the  world  besides, 
and  Mahomet  into  the  bargain.  After  this,  who  can  doubt 
the  bountifulness  of  the  Christian  mythology  ? 

Having  thus  made  an  insurrection  and  a  battle  in 
Heaven,  in  which  none  of  the  combatants  could  be  either 
killed  or  wounded — put  Satan  into  the  pit — let  him  out 
again — giving  him  a  triumph  over  the  whole  creation — 
damned  all  mankind  by  the  eating  of  an  apple,  these  Chris- 
tian Mythologists  bring  the  two  ends  of  their  fable  together. 
They  represent  this  virtuous  and  amiable  man,  Jesus  Christ, 
to  be  at  once  both  God  and  Man,  and  also  the  Son  of  God, 
celestially  begotten,  on  purpose  to  be  sacrificed,  because  they 
say  that  Eve  in  her  longing  had  eaten  an  apple. 

Putting  aside  everything  that  might  excite  laughter  by 
its  absurdity,  or  detestation  by  its  profaneness,  and  confining 
ourselves  merely  to  an  examination  of  the  parts,  it  is  impos- 
sible to  conceive  a  story  more  derogatory  to  the  Almighty, 
more  inconsistent  with  his  wisdom,  more  contradictory  to 
his  power,  than  this  story  is. 

In  order  to  make  for  it  a  foundation  to  rise  upon,  the  in- 
ventors were  under  the  necessity  of  giving  to  the  being, 
whom  they  call  Satan,  a  power  equally  aa  great,  if  not 
greater  than  they  attribute  to  the  Almighty.  They  have 
not  only  given  him  the  power  of  liberating  himself  from  the 
pit,  after  what  they  call  his  fall,  but  they  have  made  that 
power  increase  afterwards  to  infinity.  Before  this  fall  they 


LJ  THB    A  OB    Or    RKAflOH.  IS 

represent  him  only  as  an  angel  of  limited  existence,  as  they 
represent  the  rest.  After  his  fall,  he  becomes,  by  their  ac- 
count, omnipresent.  He  exists  everywhere,  and  at  the  same 
time.  He  occupies  the  whole  immensity  of  space. 

Not  content  with  this  deification  of  Satan,  they  represent 
him  as  defeating,  by  stratagem,  in  the  shape  of  an  animal  of 
the  creation,  all  the  power  and  wisdom  of  the  Almighty. 
They  represent  him  as  having  compelled  the  Almighty  to  the 
direct  necessity  either  of  surrendering  the  whole  of  the  crea- 
tion to  the  government  and  sovereignty  of  this  Satan,  or  of 
capitulating  for  its  redemption  by  coming  down  upon  earth 
and  exhibiting  himself  upon  a  cross  in  the  shape  of  a  man. 

Had  the  inventors  of  this  story  told  it  the  contrary  way, 
that  is,  had  they  represented  the  Almighty  as  compelling 
Satan  to  exhibit  himself  on  a  cross,  in  the  shape  of  a  snake, 
as  a  punishment  for  his  new  transgression,  the  story  would 
have  been  less  absurd — less  contradictory.  But,  instead  of 
this,  they  make  the  transgressor  triumph,  and  the  Almighty 
fall. 

That  many  good  men  have  believed  this  strange  fable,  and 
lived  very  good  lives  under  that  belief  (for  credulity  is  not  a 
crime)  is  what  I  have  no  doubt  of.  In  the  first  place,  they 
were  educated  to  believe  it,  and  they  would  have  believed 
anything  else  in  the  same  manner.  There  are  also  many 
who  have  been  so  enthusiastically  enraptured  by  what  they 
conceived  to  be  the  infinite  love  of  God  to  man,  in  making  a 
sacrifice  of  himself,  that  the  vehemence  of  the  idea  has  for- 
bidden and  deterred  them  from  examining  into  the  absurdity 
and  profaneness  of  the  story.  The  more  unnatural  anything 
is,  the  more  is  it  capable  of  becoming  the  object  of  dismal 
admiration. 

But  if  objects  for  gratitude  and  admiration  are  our  desire, 
do  they  not  present  themselves  every  hour  to  our  eyes?  Do 
we  not  see  a  fair  creation  prepared  to  receive  us  the  instant 
we  are  born — a  world  furnisned  to  our  hands,  that  cost  us 
nothing?  Is  it  we  that  light  up  the  sun,  that  pour  down  the 
rain,  and  fill  the  earth  with  abundance?  Whether  we  sleep 
or  wake,  the  vast  machinery  of  the  universe  still  goes  on. 
Are  these  things,  and  the  blessings  they  indicate  in  future, 
nothing  to  us?  Can  our  gross  feelings  be  excited  by  no 
other  subjects  than  tragedy  and  suicide?  Or  is  the  gloomy 
pride  of  man  become  so  intolerable,  that  nothing  can  flatter 
\t  but  a  sacrifice  of  the  Creator? 


14  TUB    AQ*    OF    RBA8OH.  fpAKT  I. 

I  know  that  this  bold  investigation  will  alarm  many,  but 
it  would  be  paving  too  great  a  compliment  to  their  credulity 
to  forbear  it  on  that  account;  the  times  and  the  subject 
demand  it  to  be  done.  The  suspicion  that  the  theory  of 
what  is  called  the  Christian  church  is  fabulous,  is  becoming 
very  extensive  in  all  countries;  and  it  will  be  a  consolation 
to  men  staggering  under  that  suspicion,  and  doubting  what 
to  believe  and  what  to  disbelieve,  to  see  the  subject  freely 
investigated.  I  therefore  pass  on  to  an  examination  of  the 
books  called  the  Old  and  New  Testament 

These  books,  beginning  with  Genesis  and  ending  with 
Revelation  (which,  by  the  bye,  is  a  book  of  riddles  that 
requires  a  revelation  to  explain  it),  are,  we  are  told,  the  word 
of  God.  It  is,  therefore,  proper  for  us  to  know  who  told  us 
so,  that  we  may  know  what  credit  to  give  to  the  report. 
The  answer  to  this  qeestion  is,  that  nobody  can  tell,  except 
that  we  tell  one  another  so.  The  case  historically  appear*  to 
be  as  follows: 

When  the  church  Mythologists  established  their  system, 
they  collected  all  the  writings  they  could  find,  and  managed 
them  as  they  pleased.  It  is  a  matter  altogether  of  uncer- 
tainty to  us  whether  such  of  the  writings  as  now  appear 
under  the  name  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  are  in  the 
same  state  in  which  those  collectors  say  they  found  them,  or 
whether  they  added,  altered,  abridged,  or  dressed  them  up. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  they  decided  by  vote  which  of  the  books 
out  of  the  collection  they  had  made,  should  be  the  WOBD  or 
SOD,  and  which  should  not.  They  rejected  several;  they 
voted  others  to  be  doubtful,  such  as  the  books  called  the 
Apocrypha;  and  those  books  which  had  a  majority  of  votes, 
were  voted  to  be  the  word  of  God.  Had  they  voted  other- 
wise, all  the  people,  since  calling  themselves  Christians,  had 
believed  otherwise — for  the  belief  of  the  one  comes  from  the 
vote  of  the  other.  Who  the  people  were  that  did  all  this, 
we  know  nothing  of,  they  called  themselves  by  the  general 
name  of  the  Church;  and  this  is  all  we  know  of  the  matter. 

As  we  have  no  other  external  evidence  or  authority  for 
believing  these  books  to  be  the  word  of  God,  than  what  I 
have  mentioned,  which  is  no  evidence  or  authority  at  all,  I 
ooiae,  in  the  next  place,  to  examine  the  internal  evidence 
contained  in  the  books  themselves. 

In  t*M  former  part  of  this  Essay,  I  have  spoken  of  revel*- 


FA  ITT    I.]  THE    AGE    07    REA80H.  15 

tion. — I  now  proceed  further  with  that  subject,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  applying  it  to  the  books  in  question. 

Relevation  is  a  communication  of  something,  which  the 
person,  to  whom  that  thing  is  revealed,  did  not  know  before. 
For  if  I  have  done  a  thing,  or  seen  it  done,  it  needs  no 
revelation  to  tell  me  I  have  done  it,  or  seen  it,  nor  to  enable 
me  to  tell  it,  or  to  write  it. 

Revelation,  therefore,  cannot  be  applied  to  anything  done 
upon  earth,  of  which  man  is  himself  the  actor  or  the  witness; 
and  consequently  all  the  historical  and  anecdotal  part  of  the 
Bible,  which  is  almost  the  whole  of  it,  is  not  within  the 
meaning  and  compass  of  the  word  revelation,  and,  therefore, 
is  not  the  word  of  God. 

When  Samson  ran  off  with  the  gate-posts  of  Gaza,  if  he 
ever  did  so,  (and  whether  he  did  or  not  is  nothing  to  us,)  or 
when  he  visited  his  Delilah,  or  caught  his  foxes,  or  did  any 
thing  else,  what  has  revelation  to  do  with  these  things?  If 
they  were  facts,  he  could  tell  them  himself;  or  his  secretary, 
if  he  kept  one,  could  write  them,  if  they  were  worth  either 
telling  or  writing;  and  if  they  were  fictions  revelation  could 
not  make  them  true;  and  whether  true  or  not,  we  are  neither 
the  better  nor  the  wiser  for  knowing  them.  When  we  con- 
template the  immensity  of  that  Being,  who  directs  and  gov- 
erns the  incomprehensible  WHOLE,  of  which  the  utmost  ken 
of  human  sight  can  discover  but  a  part,  we  ought  to  feel 
shame  at  calling  such  paltry  stories  the  word  of  God. 

As  to  the  account  of  the  Creation,  with  which  the  book 
of  Genesis  opens,  it  has  all  the  appearance  of  being  a  tradi- 
tion which  the  Israelites  had  among  them  before  they  came 
into  Egypt;  and  after  their  departure  from  that  country, 
they  put  it  at  the  head  of  their  history,  without  telling  (as  it 
is  most  probable)  that  they  did  not  know  how  they  came  by 
it.  The  manner  in  which  the  account  opens,  shows  it  to  be 
traditionary.  It  begins  abruptly  :  it  is  nobody  that  speaks  ; 
t  is  nobody  that  hears  ;  it  is  addressed  to  nobody  ;  it  has 
neither  first,  second,  or  third  person  ;  it  has  every  criterion 
of  being  a  tradition;  it  has  no  voucher.  Moses  does  not  take 
it  upon  himself  by  introducing  it  with  the  formality  that  he 
uses  on  other  occasions,  such  as  that  of  saying,  The  Lord 
tpake  unto  Mose*,  saying. 

Why  it  has  been  called  the  Mosaic  account  of  the  Crea- 
tion, I  am  &t  a  loss  to  conceive.  Moses,  I  believe,  was  too 


16  THE    AOK    OF    KRAttoH.  '  -  >n   1 

good  a  judge  of  such  subjects  to  put  his  name  to  that  ac- 
count. He  had  been  educated  among  the  Egyptians,  who 
were  a  people  as  well  skilled  in  science,  and  particularly  in 
astronomy,  as  any  people  of  their  day  ;  and  the  silence  and 
caution  that  Moses  observes,  in  not  authenticating  the  ac- 
count, is  a  good  negative  evidence  that  he  neither  told  it  nor 
believed  it — The  case  is,  that  every  nation  of  people  has 
been  world-makers,  and  the  Israelites  had  as  much  right  to 
set  up  the  trade  of  world-making  as  any  of  the  rest ;  and  as 
Moses  was  not  an  Israelite,  he  might  not  choose  to  contra- 
dict the  tradition.  The  account,  however,  is  harmless  ;  and 
this  is  more  than  can  be  said  of  many  other  parts  of  the 
Bible. 

Whenever  we  read  the  obscene  stories,  the  voluptuous 
debaucheries,  the  cruel  and  tortuous  executions,  the  unre- 
lenting vindictiveness,  with  which  more  than  half  th«  Bible 
is  filled,  it  would  be  more  consistent  that  we  called  it  the 
word  of  a  demon  than  the  word  of  God.  It  is  a  history  of 
wickedness,  that  has  served  to  corrupt  and  brutalize  man- 
kind ;  and,  for  my  own  part,  I  sincerely  detest  it,  as  I  detest 
everything  that  is  cruel. 

We  scarcely  meet  with  anything,  a  few  phrases  excepted, 
but  what  deserves  either  our  abhorrence  or  our  contempt, 
till  we  come  to  the  miscellaneous  parts  of  the  Bible.  In  the 
anonymous  publications,  the  Psalms,  and  the  Book  of  Job, 
more  particularly  in  the  latter,  we  find  a  great  deal  of  ele- 
vated sentiment  reverentially  expressed  of  the  power  and 
benignity  of  the  Almighty  ;  but  they  stand  on  no  higher 
rank  than  many  other  compositions  on  similar  subjects,  as 
well  before  that  time  as  since. 

The  Proverbs  which  are  said  to  be  Solomon's,  though  most 
probably  a  collection  (because  they  discover  a  knowledge  of 
life,  which  his  situation  excluded  him  from  knowing)  are  an 
instructive  table  of  ethics.  They  are  inferior  in  keenness 
to  the  proverbs  of  the  Spaniards,  and  not  more  wise  and  eco- 
nomical than  those  of  the  American  Franklin. 

All  the  remaining  parts  of  the  Bible,  generally  known  by 
the  name  of  the  Prophet*,  are  the  works  of  the  Jewish  poets 
and  itinerant  preachers,  who  mixed  poetry,  anecdote,  and 
devotion  together — and  those  works  still  retain  the  air  and 
•tyle  of  poetry,  though  in  translation.* 

•A*  there  ar«  many  reader*  who  do  nut  ««•«•  Unit  ft  composition  U  poetry,  wUan 
II  be  In  rhyme,  U  U  for  their  lufonimtlon  that  I  add  thlc  note 


PAW  L]  THE    AGE    OE    REASON.  17 

There  is  not,  throughout  the  whole  book  called  the  Bible, 
any  word  that  describes  to  us  what  we  call  a  poet,  nor  any 
word  that  describes  what  we  call  poetry.  The  case  is,  that 
the  word  prophet,  to  which  latter  times  have  affixed  a  new 
idea,  was  the  Bible  word  for  poet,  and  the  word  prophesying 
meant  the  art  of  making  poetry.  It  Vilso  meant  the  art  of 
ring  poetry  to  a  tune  upon  any  instrument  of  music. 

read  of  prophesying  with  pipes,  tabrets,  and  horns — 
of  prophesying  with  harps,  with  psalteries,  with  cymbals, 
and  with  every  other  instrument  of  music  then  in  fashion. 
Were  we  now  to  speak  of  prophesying  with  a  fiddle,  or  with 
a  pipe  and  tabor,  the  expression  would  have  no  meaning,  or 
would  appear  ridiculous,  and  to  some  people  contemptuous, 
because  we  have  changed  the  meaning  of  the  word. 

We  are  told  of  Saul  being  among  the  prophets,  and  also 
chat  he  prophesied  ;  but  we  are  not  told  what  they  prophesied, 
nor  what  he  prophesied.  The  case  is,  there  was  nothing  to 
tell ;  for  these  prophets  were  a  company  of  musicians  and 
poets,  and  Saul  joined  in  the  concert,  and  this  was  called 
prophesying. 

The  account  given  of  this  affair  in  the  book  called 
Samuel,  is,  that  Saul  met  a  company  of  prophets  ;  a  whole 
company  of  them  !  coming  down  with  a  psaltery,  a  tabret,  a 
pipe,  and  a  harp,  and  that  they  prophesied,  and  that  he 
prophesied  with  them.  But  it  appears  afterwards,  that  Saul 
prophesied  badly  ;  that  is,  performed  his  part  badly  ;  for  it 

position  of  poetry  differs  from  that  of  prose  in  the  manner  of  miring  long  and 
short  syllables  together.  Take  a  long  syllable  out  of  a  line  of  poetry,  and  put  » 
short  one  in  the  room  of  It,  or  put  a  long  syllable  where  a  short  one  should  be, 
and  that  line  will  lose  its  poetical  harmony.  It  will  have  an  effect  upon  the  line 
like  that  of  misplacing  a  note  in  a  song. 

The  Imagery  in  these  books,  called  the  prophets,  appertains  altogether  to  poe- 
try. It  is  fictitious,  and  often  extravagant,  and  not  admissible  in  any  other  kind 
or  writing  than  poetry. 

To  show  that  these  writings  are  composed  in  poetical  numbers,  I  will  take  ten 
syllables,  as  they  stand  In  the  book,  and  make  a  line  of  the  same  number  of  syllv 
bleB,  (heroic  measure)  that  shall  rhyme  with  the  last  word.  It  will  then  be  »»eii 
that  the  composition  of  thexe  books  is  poetical  measure.  The  instance  I  shall 
produce  1*  from  Isaiah  : — 

"  Hear,  0  yf  hfarrn*,  and  gtvt  tar  0  tariff" 
Tis  God  hlnipelf  that  calls  attention  forth. 

Another  Instance  I  shall  quote  In  from  the  mournful  Jeremiah,  to  which  I  shall 
•dd  two  other  lines,  for  the  purpose  of  c/urvinx  ont  the  figure,  and  ahowlnc  U>» 
.Ion  of  the  poet. 

"  0.  thai  mint  tfad  vtrt  >citfri  nmi  mint  «y«*  " 
Were  fountain*  flowing  Mk<Mh<>  liquid  skies  ; 
Tben  wooiil  I  *1v«  the  mighty  rt.m.l  reload*. 


18  THB    AGE    0V    RKA80S.  [PAR!   1 


is  said,  that,  an  "coil  tpiritfrom  GW*  came  upon  Saul, 
and  he  prophesied. 

Now,  were  there  no  other  passage  in  the  book  called  the 
Bible,  than  this,  to  demonstrate  to  us  that  we.  have  lost  the 
original  meaning  of  the  word  prophesy,  and  substituted 
another  meaning  in  its  place,  this  alone  would  be  sufficient  ; 
for  it  is  impossible  to  use  and  apply  the  word  prophesy,  in 
the  place  it  is  here  used  and  applied,  if  we  give  to  it  the 
sense  which  latter  times  have  affixed  to  it.  The  manner  in 
which  it  is  here  used  strips  it  of  all  religious  meaning,  and 
shows  that  a  man  might  then  be  a  prophet,  or  he  might 
prophesy,  as  he  may  now  be  a  poet  or  musician,  without  any 
regard  to  the  morality  or  immorality  of  his  character.  Th« 
word  was  originally  a  term  of  science,  promiscuously  applied 
to  poetry  and  to  music,  and  not  restricted  to  any  subject 
upon  which  poetry  and  music  might  be  exercised. 

Deborah  and  Barak  are  called  prophets,  not  because  they 
predicted  anything,  but  because  they  composed  the  poem  or 
song  that  bears  their  name,  in  celebration  of  an  act  already 
done.  David  is  ranked  among  the  prophets,  for  he  was  a 
musician,  and  was  also  reputed  to  be  (though  perhaps  very 
erroneously)  the  author  of  the  Psalms.  But  Abraham,  Isaac, 
and  Jacob  are  not  called  prophets  ;  it  does  not  appear  from 
any  accounts  we  have,  that  they  could  either  sing,  play 
music,  or  make  poetry. 

We  are  told  of  the  greater  and  the  lesser  prophets 
They  might  as  well  tell  us  of  the  greater  and  the  lesser 
God  ;  for  there  cannot  be  degrees  in  prophesying  consistently 
with  its  modern  sense.  —  But  there  are  degrees  in  poetry,  and 
therefore  the  phrase  is  reconcilable  to  the  case,  when  we 
understand  by  it  the  greater  and  the  lesser  poets. 

It  is  altogether  unnecessary,  after  this,  to  offer  any 
observations  upon  what  those  men,  styled  prophets,  have 
written.  The  axe  goes  at  once  to  the  root,  by  showing  that 
the  original  meaning  of  the  word  has  been  mistaken,  and 
consequently  all  the  inferences  that  have  been  drawn  from 
those  books,  the  devotional  respect  that  has  been  paid  to 
them,  and  the  labored  commentaries  that  have  been  written 
upon  them,  under  that  mistaken  meaning,  are  not  worth 

•  As  thoM  men  who  call  themnelTes  dlnnw  and  commentator'*,  are  rer?  fond  of 
pnz/.lhig  one  another,  I  leave  them  to  contest  the  meaning  of  the  flrut  part  of  th« 
phrase,  that  of  an  evil  ijtirit  <tf  God.    I  kMp  to  my  Mxt-kaep  to  the  m 
•f  th»  word  prophecy. 


]  THIS   AOK   OF   REASON.  19 

disputing  about.  In  many  things,  however,  the  writings  of 
the  Jewish  poets  deserve  a  better  fate  than  that  of  being 
bound  up,  as  they  are  now,  with  the  trash  that  accompanies 
them,  under  the  abused  name  of  the  word  of  God. 

If  we  permit  ourselves  to  conceive  right  ideas  of  things, 
we  must  necessarily  affix  the  idea,  not  only  of  unchangeable- 
ness,  but  of  the  utter  impossibility  of  any  change  taking 
place,  by  any  means  or  accident  whatever,  in  that  which  we 
would  honor  with  the  name  of  the  word  of  God  ;  and  there- 
fore the  word  of  God  cannot  exist  in  any  written  or  human 
language. 

The  continually  progressive  change  to  which  the  meaning 
of  words  is  subject,  the  want  of  an  universal  language  which 
renders  translation  necessary,  the  errors  to  which  translations 
are  again  subject,  the  mistakes  of  copyists  and  printers,  to- 
gether with  the  possibility  of  willful  alteration,  are  of  them- 
selves evidences  that  the  human  language,  whether  in  speech 
or  in  print,  cannot  be  the  vehicle  of  the  word  of  God.  The 
word  of  God  exists  in  something  else. 

Did  the  book  called  the  Bible,  excel  in  purity  of  ideas  and 
expression  all  the  books  now  extant  in  the  world,  I  would 
not  take  it  for  my  rule  of  faith,  as  being  the  word  of  God, 
because  the  possibility  would  nevertheless  exist  of  my  being 
imposed  upon.  But  when  I  see  throughout  the  greater  part 
of  this  book,  scarcely  anything  but  a  history  of  the  grossest 
vices,  and  a  collection  of  the  most  paltry  and  contemptible 
tales,  I  cannot  dishonor  my  Creator  by  calling  it  by  nil 
name. 

Thus  much  for  the  Bible;  I  now  go  on  to  the  book  called 
the  New  Testament!  that  is,  the  new  will,  as  if  there  could 
be  two  wills  of  the  Creator. 

Had  it  been  the  object  or  the  intention  of  Jesus  Chriut  to 
establish  a  new  religion,  he  would  undoubtedly  have  written 
the  system  himself,  or  procured  it  to  be  written  in  his  lifetime. 
But  there  is  no  publication  extant  authenticated  with  his 
name.  All  the  books  called  the  New  Testament  were  written 
after  his  death.  He  was  a  Jew  by  birth  and  by  profession; 
and  he  was  the  son  of  God  in  like  manner  that  every  other 
person  is — for  the  Creator  is  the  Father  of  All. 

The  first  four  books,  called  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke,  and 
John,  do  not  give  a  history  of  the  life  of  Jesus  Christ,  but 
only  detached  anecdotes  of  him.  It  appears  from  these  books 


20  THB  AOK  OF  HKASON.          [PAST  L 

that  the  whole  time  of  his  being  a  preacher  was  not  more 
than  eighteen  months;  and  it  was  only  during  this  short  time 
that  those  men  became  acquainted  with  him.  They  make 
mention  of  him  at  the  age  of  twelve  years,  sitting,  they  say, 
among  the  Jewish  doctors,  asking  and  answering  them  ques- 
tions. As  this  was  several  years  before  their  acquaintance 
with  him  began,  it  is  most  probable  they  had  this  anecdote 
from  his  parents.  From  this  time  there  is  no  account  of  him 
for  about  sixteen  years.  Where  he  lived,  or  how  he  employed 
himself  during  this  interval,  is  not  known.  Most  probably  he 
was  working  at  his  father's  trade,  which  was  that  of  a  car- 
penter. It  does  not  appear  that  he  had  any  school  education, 
and  the  probability  is,  that  he  could  not  write,  for  his  parents 
were  extremely  poor,  as  appears  from  their  not  being  able  to 
pay  for  a  bed  when  he  was  bom. 

It  is  somewhat  curious  that  the  three  persons  whose  names 
are  the  most  universally  recorded,  were  of  very  obscure 
parentage.  Moses  was  a  foundling;  Jesus  Christ  was  born 
in  a  stable;  and  Mahomet  was  a  mule  driver.  The  first  and 
the  last  of  these  men  were  founders  of  different  systems  of 
religion;  but  Jesus  Christ  founded  no  new  system.  He  called 
men  to  the  practice  of  moral  virtues,  and  the  belief  of  one 
God.  The  great  trait  in  his  character  is  philanthropy. 

The  manner  in  which  he  was  apprehended,  shows  that  he 
was  not  much  known  at  that  time;  and  it  shows,  also,  that  the 
meetings  he  then  held  with  his  followers  were  in  secret;  and 
that  he  had  given  over  or  suspended  preaching  publicly. 
Judas  could  no  otherwise  betray  him  than  by  giving  informa- 
tion where  he  was  and  pointing  him  out  to  the  officers  that 
went  to  arrest  him;  and  the  reason  for  employing  and  paying 
Judas  to  do  this  could  arise  only  from  the  cause  already 
mentioned,  that  of  hia  not  being  much  known,  and  living 
concealed. 

The  idea  of  his  concealment,  not  only  agrees  very  ill  with 
his  reputed  divinity,  but  associates  with  it  something  of  pusil- 
lanimity; and  his  being  betrayed,  or  in  other  words,  his  being 
apprehended,  on  the  information  of  one  of  his  followers, 
shows  that  he  did  not  intend  to  be  apprehended,  and  conse- 
quently that  he  did  not  intend  to  be  crucified. 

The  Christian  Mythologists  tell  us,  that  Christ  died  for 
the  sins  of  the  world,  and  that  he  came  on  purpose  to  die. 
Would  it  not  then,  have  been  the  same  if  he  had  died  of  a 


PAJtT  I.]  THE    AGE   OF    BBASOtf.  SI 

fever,  or  of  the  small  pox,  of  old  age,  or  of  anything  else? 

The  declaratory  sentence  which,  they  say,  was  passed  upon 
Adam,  in  case  he  eat  of  the  apple,  was  not,  that  thou  shalt 
surely  be  crucified,  but,  thou  shalt  surely  die — the  sentence 
of  death,  and  not  the  manner  of  dying.  Crucifixion,  there- 
fore, or  any  other  particular  manner  of  dying,  made  no  part 
of  the  sentence  that  Adam  was  to  suffer,  and  consequently, 
even  upon  their  own  tactics,  it  could  make  no  part  of  the 
sentence  that  Christ  was  to  suffer  in  the  room  of  Adam.  A 
fever  would  have  done  as  well  as  a  cross,  if  there  was  any 
occasion  for  either. 

The  sentence  of  death,  which  they  tell  us,  was  thus 
passed  upon  Adam,  must  either  have  meant  dying  naturally, 
that  is,  ceasing  to  live,  or  have  meant  what  those  Mytholo- 
gists  call  damnation;  and  consequently,  the  act  of  dying  on 
the  part  of  Jesus  Christ,  must,  according  to  their  system, 
apply  as  a  prevention  to  one  or  other  of  these  two  things 
happening  to  Adam  and  to  us. 

That  it  does  not  prevent  our  dying  is  evident,  because  we 
all  die;  and  if  their  accounts  of  longevity  be  true,  men  die 
faster  since  the  crucifixion  than  before;  and  with  respect  to 
the  second  explanation,  (including  with  it  the  natural  death 
of  Jesus  Christ  as  a  substitute  for  the  eternal  death  or 
damnation  of  all  mankind,)  it  is  impertinently  representing 
the  Creator  as  coming  off,  or  revoking  the  sentence,  by  a  pun 
or  a  quibble  upon  the  word  death.  That  manufacturer  of 
quibbles,  St.  Paul,  if  he  wrote  the  books  that  bear  his  name, 
has  helped  this  quibble  on  by  making  another  quibble  upon 
the  word  Adam.  He  makes  there  to  be  two  Adams;  the 
one  who  sins  in  fact,  and  suffers  by  proxy;  the  other  who 
sins  by  proxy,  and  suffers  in  fact.  A  religion  thus  inter- 
larded with  quibble,  subterfuge,  and  pun,  has  a  tendency  to 
instruct  its  professors  in  the  practice  of  these  arts.  They 
acquire  the  habit  without  being  aware  of  the  cause. 

If  Jesus  Christ  was  the  being  which  those  Mythologista 
tell  us  he  was,  and  that  he  came  into  this  world  to  tuffer, 
which  is  a  word  they  sometimes  use  instead  of  to  die,  the 
only  real  suffering  he  could  have  endured,  would  have  been 
fr  live.  His  existence  here  was  a  state  of  exilement  or 
transportation  from  Heaven,  and  the  way  back  to  his  original 
country  was  to  die. — In  fine,  everything  in  this  strange  system 
is  the  reverse  of  what  it  pretends  to  be.  It  is  the  reverse  of 


82  THE    AGE    OF    REASON.  [FART  I. 

truth>  and  I  become  so  tired  of  examining  into  its  inconsis- 
tencies and  absurdities,  that  I  hasten  to  the  conclusion  of  it, 
tn  order  to  proceed  to  something  better. 

How  much,  or  what  parts  of  the  books  called  the  New 
Testament,  were  written  by  the  persons  whose  names  they 
bear,  is  what  we  can  know  nothing  of,  neither  are  we  certain 
in  what  language  they  were  originally  written.  The  matters 
they  now  contain  may  be  classed  under  two  heads — anecdote 
and  epistolary  correspondence. 

The  four  books  already  mentioned,  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke 
and  John,  are  altogether  anecdotal.  They  relate  events  after 
they  had  taken  place.  They  tell  what  Jesus  Christ  did  and 
said,  and  what  others  did  and  said  to  him;  and  in  several 
instances  they  relate  the  same  event  differently.  Revela- 
tion is  necessarily  out  of  the  question  with  respect  to  those 
books;  not  only  because  of  the  disagreement  of  the  writers, 
but  because  revelation  cannot  be  applied  to  the  relating  of 
facts  by  the  person  who  saw  them  done,  nor  to  the  relating 
or  recording  of  any  discourse  or  conversation  by  those  who 
heard  it.  The  book  called  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  (an 
anonymous  work)  belongs  also  to  the  anecdotal  part. 

All  the  other  parts  of  the  New  Testament,  except  the  book 
of  enigmas,  called  the  Revelations,  are  a  collection  of  letters 
under  the  name  of  epistles;  and  the  forgery  of  letters  has 
been  such  a  common  practice  in  the  world,  that  the  proba- 
bility is  at  least  equal,  whether  they  are  genuine  or  forged. 
One  thing,  however,  is  much  less  equivocal,  which  is,  that 
out  of  the  matters  contained  in  those  books,  together  with 
the  assistance  of  some  old  stories,  the  church  has  set  up  a 
system  of  religion  very  contradictory  to  the  character  of  the 
person  whose  name  it  bears.  It  has  set  up  a  religion  of 
pomp  and  of  revenue,  in  pretended  imitation  of  a  person 
whose  life  was  humility  and  poverty. 

The  invention  of  purgatory,  and  of  the  releasing  of  souls 
therefrom,  by  prayers,  bought  of  the  church  with  money; 
the  selling  of  pardons,  dispensations  and  indulgences,  are 
revenue  laws,  without  bearing  that  name  or  carrying  that 
appearance.  But  the  case  nevertheless  is,  that  those  things 
derive  their  origin  from  th«  paroxvsm  of  the  crucifixion  and 
the  theory  deduced  therefrom,  which  was,  that  one  person 
could  stand  in  the  place  of  another,  and  could  perform  meri- 
torious services  for  him.  The  probability,  therefore,  is,  that 


PART  I.J  THE    AGE    OF    REASON.  28 

the  whole  theory  or  doctrine  of  what  is  called  the  redemp- 
tion (which  is  said  to  have  been  accomplished  by  the  act  of 
one  person  in  the  room  of  another)  was  originally  fabricated 
on  purpose  to  bring  forward  and  build  all  those  secondary 
and  pecuniary  redemptions  upon;  and  that  the  passages  in 
the  books  upon  which  the  idea  of  theory  of  redemption  is 
built,  have  been  manufactured  and  fabricated  for  that  pur- 
pose. Why  are  we  to  give  this  church  credit,  when  she 
tells  us  that  those  books  are  genuine  in  every  part,  any 
more  than  we  give  her  credit  for  everything  else  she  has  told 
us;  or  for  the  miracles  she  says  she  has  performed?  That 
she  could  fabricate  writings  is  certain,  because  she  could 
write;  and  the  composition  of  the  writings  in  question,  is  of 
that  kind  that  anybody  might  do  it;  and  that  she  did  fabri- 
cate them  is  not  more  inconsistent  with  probability,  than 
that  she  could  tell  us,  as  she  has  done,  that  she  could  and  did 
work  miracles. 

Since,  then,  no  external  evidence  can,  at  this  long  distance 
of  time,  be  produced  to  prove  whether  the  church  fabricated 
the  doctrines  called  redemption  or  not,  (for  such  evidence, 
whether  for  or  against,  would  be  subject  to  the  same  sus- 
picion of  being  fabricated,)  the  case  can  only  be  referred  to 
the  internal  evidence  which  the  thing  carries  within  itself; 
and  this  affords  a  very  strong  presumption  of  its  being  a 
fabrication.  For  the  internal  evidence  is,  that  the  theory  or 
doctrine  of  redemption  has  for  its  basis  an  idea  of  pecuniary 
justice,  and  not  that  of  moral  justice. 

If  I  owe  a  person  money,  and  cannot  pay  him,  and  he 
threatens  to  put  me  in  prison,  another  person  can  take  the 
debt  upon  himself,  and  pay  it  for  me;  but  if  I  have  com- 
mitted a  crime,  every  circumstance  of  the  case  is  changed; 
moral  justice  cannot  take  the  innocent  for  the  guilty,  even 
if  the  innocent  would  offer  itself.  To  suppose  justice  to  do 
this,  is  to  destroy  the  principle  of  its  existence,  which  is  the 
thing  itself;  it  is  then  no  longer  justice;  it  is  indiscriminate 
revenge. 

This  single  reflection  will  show  that  the  doctrine  of 
redemption  is  founded  on  a  mere  pecuniary  idea,  correspond- 
ing to  that  of  a  debt,  which  another  person  might  pay;  and 
as  this  pecuniary  idea  corresponds  again  with  the  system  of 
second  redemptions,  obtained  through  the  means  of  money 
given  to  the  church  for  pardons,  the  probability  ia,  that  the 


34  THB    AOE    0V    RBASOW.  [PART  I. 

same  persons  fabricated  both  one  and  the  other  of  those 
theories,  and  that,  in  truth,  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
redemption;  that  it  is  fabulous,  and  that  man  stands  in  the 
same  relative  condition  with  his  Maker  he  ever  did  stand, 
since  man  existed,  and  that  it  is  his  greatest  consolation  to 
think  so. 

Let  him  believe  this,  and  he  will  live  more  consistently 
and  morally,  than  by  any  other  system;  it  is  by  bis  being 
taught  to  contemplate  himself  as  an  out-law,  as  an  out-cast, 
as  a  beggar,  as  a  mumper,  as  one  thrown,  as  it  were,  on  a 
dunghill,  at  an  immense  distance  from  his  Creator,  and  who 
must  make  his  approaches  by  creeping  and  cringing  to 
intermediate  beings,  that  he  conceives  either  a  contemptuous 
disregard  for  everything  under  the  name  of  religion,  or 
becomes  indifferent,  or  turns  what  he  calls,  devout.  In  the 
latter  case,  he  consumes  his  life  in  grief,  or  the  affectation 
of  it;  his  prayers  are  reproaches;  his  humility  is  ingratitude; 
he  calls  himself  a  worm,  and  the  fertile  earth  a  dunghill; 
and  all  the  blessings  of  life  by  the  thankless  name  of  vani- 
ties; he  despises  the  choicest  gift  of  God  to  man — the  GIFT 
or  REASON;  and  having  endeavored  to  force  upon  himself  the 
belief  of  a  system  against  which  reason  revolts,  he  un- 
gratefully calls  it  human  reason,  as  if  man  could  give  reason 
to  himself. 

Yet,  with  all  this  strange  appearance  of  humility,  and 
this  contempt  for  human  reason,  he  ventures  into  the  boldest 
presumptions;  he  finds  fault  with  everything;  his  selfish- 
ness is  never  satisfied;  his  ingratitude  is  never  at  an  end. 
He  takes  on  himself  to  direct  the  Almighty  what  to  do,  even 
in  the  government  of  the  universe;  he  prays  dictatorially; 
when  it  is  sunshine  he  prays  for  rain,  and  when  it  is  rain,  he 
prays  for  sunshine;  he  follows  the  same  idea  in  every- 
thing that  he  prays  for;  for  what  is  the  amount  of  all  hi* 
prayers,  but  an  attempt  to  make  the  Almighty  change  his 
mind,  and  act  otherwise  than  he  does?  It  is  as  if  he  were 
to  say — thou  knowest  not  so  well  as  I. 

But  some  perhaps  will  say — Are  we  to  have  no  word  of 
God — no  revelation?  I  answer,  Yes:  there  is  a  word  of 
God;  there  is  a  revelation. 

THB  WORD  OF  GOD  is  THB  CREATION  WE  BEHOLD:  And  it 
is  in  this  wore?,  which  no  human  invention  can  counterfeit  or 
alter,  that  God  speaketh  universally  to  man. 


I.]  TEE    AGE    OF    BKA8ON.  25 

Human  language  is  local  and  changeable,  and  is,  therefore, 
incapable  of  being  used  as  the  means  of  unchangeable 
and  universal  information.  The  idea  that  God  sent  Jesus 
Christ  to  publish,  as  they  say,  the  glad  tidings  to  all  nations, 
from  one  end  of  the  earth  to  the  other,  is  consistent  only 
with  the  ignorance  of  those  who  knew  nothing  of  the  extent 
of  the  world,  and  who  believed,  as  those  world-saviours 
believed,  and  continued  to  believe,  for  several  centuries 
(and  that  in  contradiction  to  the  discoveries  of  philosophers 
and  the  experience  of  navigator*),  that  the  earth  was  flat 
like  a  trencher,  and  that  a  man  might  walk  to  the  end 
of  it 

But  how  was  Jesus  Christ  to  make  anything  known  to 
all  nations?  He  could  speak  but  one  language,  which  was 
Hebrew;  and  there  are  in  the  world  several  hundred 
languages.  Scarcely  any  two  nations  speak  the  same  lan- 
guage, or  understand  each  other;  and  as  to  translations, 
every  man  who  knows  anything  of  languages,  knows  that  it 
was  impossible  to  translate  from  one  language  to  another, 
not  only  without  not  losing  a  great  part  of  the  original,  but 
frequently  of  mistaking  the  sense;  and  besides  all  this,  the 
Art  of  printing  was  wholly  unknown  at  the  time  Christ 
lived. 

It  is  always  necessary  that  the  means  that  are  to  accom- 
plish any  end,  be  equal  to  the  accomplishment  of  that  end,  or 
the  end  cannot  be  accomplished.  It  is  in  this,  that  the 
difference  between  finite  and  infinite  power  and  wisdom  dis- 
covers itself.  Man  frequently  fails  in  accomplishing  his 
ends,  from  a  natural  inability  of  the  power  to  the  purpose; 
and  frequently  from  the  want  of  wisdom  to  apply  power 
properly.  But  it  is  impossible  for  infinite  power  and 
wisdom  to  fail  as  man  faileth.  The  means  it  useth  are 
always  equal  to  the  end;  but  human  language,  more  espe- 
cially as  there  is  not  an  universal  language,  is  incapable  of 
being  used  as  an  universal  means  of  unchangeable  and 
uniform  information,  and  therefore  it  is  not  the  means  that 
God  useth  in  manifesting  himself  universally  to  man. 

It  is  only  in  the  CKKATION  that  all  our  ideas  and  concep- 
tions of  a  word  of  God  can  unite.  The  creation  speaketh 
an  universal  language,  independently  of  human  speech  or 
human  language,  multiplied  and  various  as  they  be.  It  i» 
an  ever-existing  original,  which  every  man  can  read.  It 


96  THB  AGB  OF  REASOK.          [PABT  L 

cannot  be  forged  ;  it  cannot  be  counterfeited ;  it  cannot  be 
lost ;  it  cannot  be  altered  ;  it  cannot  be  suppressed.  It  doe* 
not  depend  upon  the  will  of  man  whether  it  shall  be  pub- 
lished or  not;  it  publishes  itself  from  one  end  of  the  earth  to  the 
other.  It  preaches  to  all  nations  and  to  all  worlds  ;  and  this 
word  of  God  reveals  to  man  all  that  is  necessary  for  man  to 
know  of  God. 

Do  we  want  to  contemplate  his  power  ?  We  see  it  in 
the  unchangeable  order  by  which  the  incomprehensible 
whole  is  governed.  Do  we  want  to  contemplate  his  munifi- 
cence ?  NYe  see  in  the  abundance  with  which  he  fills  the 
earth.  Do  we  want  to  contemplate  his  mercy  ?  We  see  it 
in  his  not  withholding  that  abundance  even  from  the  un- 
thankful. In  fine,  do  we  want  to  know  what  God  is? 
Search  not  the  book  called  the  Scripture,  which  any  human 
hand  might  make,  but  the  Scripture  called  the  Creation. 

The  only  idea  man  can  affix  to  the  name  of  God,  is  that 
of  a  first  cause,  the  cause  'of  all  things.  And,  incomprehen- 
sible and  difficult  as  it  is  for  a  man  to  conceive  what  a  first 
cause  is,  he  arrives  at  the  belief  of  it,  from  the  tenfold 
greater  difficulty  of  disbelieving  it.  It  is  difficult  beyond 
description  to  conceive  that  space  can  have  no  end;  but  it  is 
more  difficult  to  conceive  an  end.  It  is  difficult  beyond  the 
power  of  man  to  conceive  an  eternal  duration  of  what  we 
call  time;  but  it  is  more  impossible  to  conceive  a  time  when 
there  shall  be  no  time. 

In  like  manner  of  reasoning,  everything  we  behold 
carries  in  itself  the  internal  evidence  that  it  did  not  make 
itself.  Every  man  is  an  evidence  to  himself,  that  he  did  not 
make  himself;  neither  could  his  father  make  himself,  nor  his 
grandfather,  nor  any  of  his  race;  neither  could  any  tree, 
plant,  or  animal  make  itself;  and  it  is  the  conviction  arising 
from  this  evidence,  that  carries  us  on,  as  it  were,  by  neces- 
sity, to  the  belief  of  a  first  cause  eternally  existing,  of  a 
nature  totally  different  to  any  material  existence  we  know 
of,  and  by  the  power  of  which  all  things  exist;  and  this 
first  cause,  man  calls  God. 

It  is  only  by  the  exercise  of  reason,  that  man  can  dis- 
cover God.  Take  away  that  reason,  and  he  would  be  in- 
capable of  understanding  anything;  and  in  this  case  it 
would  be  just  as  consistent  to  read  even  the  book  called  the 
Bible  to  a  horse  as  to  a  man.  How  then  is  it  that  those 
people  pretend  to  reject  reason  ? 


PART  L]  THB  AQB  OF  BEASON.  27 

Almost  the  only  parts  in  the  book  called  the  Bible,  that 
convey  to  us  any  idea  of  God,  are  some  chapters  in  Job, 
and  tne  19th  Psalm;  I  recollect  no  other.  Those  parts  are 
true  deistical  compositions;  for  they  treat  of  the  Deity 
through  his  works.  They  take  the  book  of  Creation  as  the 
word  of  God,  they  refer  to  no  other  book,  and  all  the 
inferences  they  make  are  drawn  from  that  volume. 

I  insert  in  this  place  the  19th  Psalm,  as  paraphrased 
into  English  verse  by  Addison.  I  recollect  not  the  prose, 
and  where  I  write  this  I  have  not  the  opportunity  of  seeing 
it: 

The  spacious  firmament  on  high. 

With  all  the  blue  etherial  sky. 

And  spangled  heavens,  a  shining  frame, 

Their  great  original  proclaim. 

The  unwearied  sun,  from  day  today, 

Does  his  Creator's  power  display; 

And  publishes  to  every  land, 

The  work  of  an  Almighty  hand. 

Soon  as  the  evening  shades  prevail,    - 

The  moon  takes  up  the  wondrous  tale, 

And  nightly  to  the  list'ning  earth, 

Repeats  the  story  of  her  birth; 

Whilst  all  the  stars  that  "round  her  ban, 

And  all  the  planets,  in  their  turn, 

Confirm  the  tidings  as  they  roll. 

And  spread  the  truth  from  pole  to  pole. 

What  though  in  solemn  silence  all 

Move  round  this  dark  terrestrial  ball: 

What  though  no  real  voice,  nor  sound. 

Amidst  their  radiant  orbs  be  found, 

In  reason's  ear  they  all  rejoice, 

And  utter  forth  a  glorious  voice, 

Forever  singing  as  they  shine, 

TUB  HAND  THAT  MAUB  08  IS  DlYtX«. 

What  more  does  man  want  to  know,  than  that  the  hand 
or  power  that  made  these  things  is  Divine,  ia  Omnipotent? 
Let  him  believe  this  with  the  force  it  is  impossible  to  repel, 
if  he  permits  his  reason  to  act,  and  his  rule  of  moral  life 
will  follow  of  course. 

The  allusions  in  Job  have,  all  of  them,  the  same  tend- 
ency with  this  Psalm;  that  of  deducing  or  proving  a  truth 
that  would  be  otherwise  unknown,  from  truths  already 
known. 

I  recollect  not  enough  of  the  passages  in  Job  to  insert 
them  correctly;  but  there  is  one  occurs  to  me  that  is  appli- 
cable to  the  subject  I  am  speaking  upon:  **  Canst  them  by 
searching  find  out  God?  Canst  thou  find  oat  the  Almighty 
to  perfection  r* 


88  THK    AGK    07    REASON.  [PJJBT  L 

I  know  not  how  the  printers  have  pointed  this  passage, 
for  I  keep  no  Bible;  but  it  contains  two  distinct  questions 
that  admit  of  distinct  answers. 

First — Canst  thou  by  searching  find  out  God?  Yes; 
because,  in  the  first  place,  I  know  I  did  not  make  myself, 
and  yet  I  have  existence;  and  by  searching  into  the  nature 
of  other  things,  I  find  that  no  other  thing  could  make  itself; 
and  yet  millions  of  other  things  exist;  therefore  it  is,  that 
I  know,  by  positive  conclusion  resulting  from  this  search, 
that  there  is  a  power  superior  to  all  those  things,  and  that 
power  is  God. 

Secondly — Canst  thou  find  out  the  Almighty  to  perfec- 
tion? No;  not  only  because  the  power  and  wisdom  He  has 
manifested  in  the  structure  of  the  Creation  that  I  behold  is 
to  me  incomprehensible,  but  because  even  this  manifestation, 
great  as  it  is,  is  probably  but  a  small  display  of  that  immen- 
sity of  power  and  wisdom,  by  which  millions  of  other  worlds, 
to  me  invisible  by  tneir  distance,  were  created  and  continue 
to  exist. 

It  is  evident  that  both  of  these  questions  are  put  to  the 
reason  of  the  person  to  whom  they  are  supposed  to  have 
been  addressed;  and  it  is  only  by  admitting  the  first  ques- 
tion to  be  answered  affirmatively,  that  the  second  could 
follow.  It  would  have  been  unnecessary,  and  even  absurd, 
to  have  put  a  second  question,  more  difficult  than  the  first, 
if  the  first  question  had  been  answered  negatively.  The 
two  questions  have  different  objects;  the  first  refers  to  the 
existence  of  God,  the  second  to  his  attributes;  reason  can 
discover  the  one,  but  it  falls  infinitely  short  in  discovering 
the  whole  of  the  other. 

I  recollect  not  a  single  passage  in  all  the  writings  ascribed 
to  the  men  called  apostles,  that  convey  any  idea  of  what 
God  is.  Those  writings  are  chiefly  controversial;  and  the 
subject  they  dwell  upon,  that  of  a  man  dying  in  agony  on 
a  cross,  is  better  suited  to  the  gloomy  genius  of  a  monk 
in  a  cell,  by  whom  it  is  not  impossible  they  were  written, 
than  to  any  man  breathing  the  open  air  of  the  Creation. 
The  only  passage  that  occurs  to  me,  that  has  any  reference 
to  the.  works  of  God,  by  which  only  his  power  and  wisdom 
can  be  known,  is  related  to  have  been  spoken  by  Jesus 
Christ,  as  a  remedy  against  distrustful  care.  "  Behold  the 
lilies  of  the  field,  they  toil  not,  neither  do  they  spin."  This, 


PART   l.J  THB    AGB    OF    BKAflOH.  29 

however,  is  far  inferior  to  the  allusions  in  Job  and  in  the 
19th  Psalm;  but  it  is  similar  in  idea,  and  the  modesty  of  the 
imagery  is  correspondent  to  the  modesty  of  the  man. 

As  to  the  Christian  system  of  faith,  it  appears  to  me  as  a 
species  of  atheism — a  sort  of  religious  denial  of  God.  It 
professes  to  believe  in  a  man  rather  than  in  God.  It  is  a 
compound  made  up  chiefly  of  manism  with  but  little  deism, 
and  is  as  near  to  atheism  as  twilight  is  to  darkness.  It 
introduces  between  man  and  his  Maker  an  opaque  body, 
which  it  calls  a  Redeemer,  as  the  moon  introduces  her 
opaque  self  between  the  earth  and  the  sun,  and  it  produces 
by  this  means  a  religious  or  an  irreligious  eclipse  of  light. 
It  has  put  the  whole  orbit  of  reason  into  shade. 

The  effect  of  this  obscurity  has  been  that  of  turning  every 
thing  upside  down,  and  representing  it  in  reverse;  and 
among  the  revolutions  it  has  thus  magically  produced,  it  has 
made  a  revolution  in  theology. 

That  which  is  now  called  natural  philosophy,  embracing 
the  whole  circle  of  science,  of  which  astronomy  occupies 
the  chief  place,  is  the  study  of  the  works  of  God,  and  of  the 
power  and  wisdom  of  God  in  his  works,  and  is  the  true 
theology. 

As  to  the  theology  that  is  now  studied  in  its  place,  it  is 
the  study  of  human  opinions  and  of  human  fancies  concern- 
ing God.  It  is  not  the  study  of  God  himself  in  the  works 
that  he  has  made,  but  in  the  works  or  writings  that  man  has 
made;  and  it  is  not  among  the  least  of  the  mischiefs  that  the 
Christian  system  has  done  to  the  world,  that  it  has  aban- 
doned the  original  and  beautiful  system  of  theology,  like  a 
beautiful  innocent,  to  distress  and  reproach,  to  make  room 
for  the  hag  of  superstition. 

The  Book  of  Job  and  the  19th  Psalm,  which  even  the 
Church  admits  to  be  more  ancient  than  the  chronological 
order  in  which  they  stand  in  the  book  called  the  Bible,  are 
theological  orations  conformable  to  the  original  system  of 
theology.  The  internal  evidence  of  those  orations  proves  to 
a  demonstration  that  the  study  and  contemplation  of  the 
works  of  creation,  and  of  the  power  and  wisdom  of  God,  re- 
vealed and  manifested  in  those  works,  made  a  great  part  of 
the  religious  devotion  of  the  times  in  which  they  were  writ- 
ten ;  and  it  was  this  devotional  study  and  contemplation 
that  led  to  the  discovery  of  the  principles  upon  which,  what 


80  THK    AOK    OF    RKA8OH.  [PART  I. 

are  now  called  sciences,  are  established  ;  and  it  ia  to  the 
discovery  of  these  principles  that  almost  all  the  arts  that 
contribute  to  the  convenience  of  human  life,  owe  their  exist- 
ence. Every  principal  art  has  some  science  for  its  parent, 
though  the  person  who  mechanically  performs  the  work 
does  not  always,  and  but  very  seldom,  perceive  the  connec- 
tion. 

It  is  a  fraud  of  the  Christian  system  to  call  the  sciences 
human  invention ;  it  is  only  the  application  of  them  that  is 
human.  Every  science  has  for  its  basis  a  system  of  princi- 
ples as  fixed  and  unalterable  as  those  by  which  the  universe 
is  regulated  and  governed.  Man  cannot  make  principles;  he 
can  only  discover  them. 

For  example — every  person  who  looks  at  an  almanac  sees 
an  account  when  an  eclipse  will  take  place,  and  he  sees  also 
that  it  never  fails  to  take  place  according  to  the  account 
there  given.  This  shows  that  man  is  acquainted  with  the 
laws  by  which  the  heavenly  bodies  move.  But  it  would  be 
something  worse  than  ignorance,  were  any  Church  on  earth 
to  say  that  those  laws  are  a  human  invention.  It  would  also 
be  ignorance,  or  something  worse,  to  say  that  the  scientific 
principles,  by  the  aid  of  which  man  is  enabled  to  calculate 
and  foreknow  when  an  eclipse  will  take  place,  are  a  human 
invention.  Man  cannot  invent  a  thing  that  is  eternal  and 
immutable  ;  and  the  scientific  principles  he  employs  for  this 
purpose  must,  and  are,  of  necessity,  as  eternal  and  immuta- 
ble as  the  laws  by  which  the  heavenly  bodies  move,  or  they 
could  not  be  used  as  they  are  to  ascertain  the  time  when, 
and  the  manner  how,  an  eclipse  will  take  place. 

The  scientific  principles  that  man  employs  to  obtain  the 
foreknowledge  of  an  eclipse,  or  of  any  thing  else,  relating  to 
the  motion  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  are  contained  chiefly  in 
that  part  of  science  which  is  called  trigonometry,  or  the 
properties  of  a  triangle,  which,  when  applied  to  the  study  of 
the  heavenly  bodies,  is  called  astronomy ;  when  applied  to 
direct  the  course  of  a  ship  on  the  ocean,  it  is  called  naviga- 
tion ;  when  applied  to  the  construction  of  figures  drawn  by 
rule  and  compass,  it  is  called  geometry ;  when  applied  to  the 
construction  of  plans  of  edifices,  it  is  called  architecture  ; 
when  applied  to  the  measurement  of  any  portion  of  the  sur- 
face of  the  earth,  it  is  called  land-surveying.  In  fine,  it  ia 
the  soul  of  science  ;  it  is  an  eternal  truth  ;  it  contains  tha 


PABT  I.J  THE    AGE    OF    REASON.  81 

mathematical  demonstration  of  which  man  speaks,  and  the 
extent  of  its  uses  is  unknown. 

It  may  be  said  that  man  can  make  or  draw  a  triangle,  and 
therefore  a  triangle  is  a  human  invention. 

But  the  triangle,  when  drawn,  is  no  other  than  the  image 
of  the  principle  ;  it  is  a  delineation  to  the  eye,  and  from 
thence  to  the  mind,  of  a  principle  that  would  otherwise  be 
imperceptible.  The  triangle  does  not  make  the  principle, 
any  more  than  a  candle  taken  into  a  room  that  was  dark, 
makes  the  chairs  and  tables  that  before  were  invisible.  All 
the  properties  of  a  triangle  exist  independently  of  the  figure, 
and  existed  before  any  triangle  was  drawn  or  thought  of  by 
man.  Man  had  no  more  to  do  in  the  formation  of  those  prop- 
erties or  principles,  than  he  had  to  do  in  making  the  laws  by 
which  the  heavenly  bodies  move  ;  and  therefore  the  one  must 
have  the  same  Divine  origin  as  the  other. 

In  the  same  manner  as,  it  may  be  said,  that  man  can  make 
a  triangle,  so  also,  may  it  be  said,  he  can  make  the  mechani- 
cal instrument  called  a  lever;  but  the  principle,  by  which  the 
lever  acts,  is  a  thing  distinct  from  the  instrument,  and  would 
exist  if  the  instrument  did  not ;  it  attaches  itself  to  the  in- 
strument after  it  is  made  ;  the  instrument,  therefore,  can  act 
no  otherwise  that  it  does  act ;  neither  can  all  the  efforts  of 
human  invention  make  it  act  otherwiae — that  which,  in  all 
such  cases,  man  calls  the  effect,  is  no  other  than  the  principle 
itself  rendered  perceptible  to  the  senses. 

Since,  then,  man  cannot  make  principles,  from  whence  did 
he  gain  a  knowledge  of  them,  so  to  be  able  to  apply  them, 
not  only  to  things  on  earth,  but  to  ascertain  the  motion  of 
Bodies  so  immensely  distant  from  him  ss  H!!  the  neaveniy 
bodies  are?  From  whence,  I  ask,  could  he  gain  that  knowl- 
edge, but  from  the  study  of  the  true  theology? 

It  is  the  strusture  of  the  universe  that  has  taught  this 
knowledge  to  man.  That  structure  is  an  ever-existing  ex- 
hibition of  every  principle  upon  which  every  part  of  mathe- 
matical science  is  founded  The  offspring  of  this  science 
is  mechanics ;  for  mechanics  is  no  other  than  the  principle* 
of  science  applied  practically.  The  man  who  proportions 
the  several  parts  of  a  mill,  uses  the  same  scientific  princi- 
ples, as  if  he  had  the  power  of  constructing  an  universe; 
but  as  he  cannot  give  to  matter  that  invisible  agency,  by 
which  all  the  component  parts  of  the  immense  machine  of 


82  THE    AGE    OF    REABOH.  [PA.«T  L 

the  universe  have  influence  upon  each  other,  and  act  in 
motional  unison  together,  without  any  apparent  contact, 
and  to  which  man  has  given  the  name  of  attraction,  gravi- 
tation, and  repulsion,  he  supplies  the  place  of  that  agency 
by  the  humble  imitation  of  teeth  and  cogs.  All  the  parts 
of  man's  microcosm  must  visibly  touch;  but  could  he  gain 
a  knowledge  of  that  agency,  so  as  to  be  able  to  apply  it  in 
practice,  we  might  then  say  that  another  canonical  book  of 
the  Word  of  God  had  been  discovered. 

If  man  could  alter  the  properties  of  the  lever,  so  also 
could  he  alter  the  properties  of  the  triangle;  for  a  lever 
(taking  that  sort  of  lever  which  is  called  a  steel-yard,  for 
the  sake  of  explanation)  forms  when  in  motion,  a  triangle. 
The  line  it  descends  from,  (one  point  of  that  line  being  in 
the  fulcrum,)  the  line  it  descends  to,  and  the  cord  of  the 
arc,  which  the  end  of  the  lever  describes  in  the  air,  are  the 
three  sides  of  a  triangle.  The  other  arm  of  the  lever  de- 
scribes also  a  triangle;  and  the  corresponding  sides  of  those 
two  triangles,  calculated  scientifically,  or  measured  geomet- 
rically; and  also  the  sines,  tangents,  and  secants  generated 
from  the  angles,  and  geometrically  measured,  nave  the 
same  proportions  to  each  other,  as  the  different  weights 
have  that  will  balance  each  other  on  the  lever,  leaving  the 
weight  of  the  lever  out  of  the  case. 

It  may  also  be  said,  that  man  can  make  a  wheel  and 
axis;  that  he  can  put  wheels  of  different  magnitudes  togeth- 
er, and  produce  a  mill.  Still  the  case  comes  back  to  the 
same  point,  which  is,  that  he  did  not  make  the  principle 
that  gives  the  wheels  those  powers.  That  principle  is  as 
unalterable  as  in  the  former  case,  or  rather  it  is  the  same 
principle  under  a  different  appearance  to  the  eye. 

The  power  that  two  wheels  of  different  magnitudes  have 
upon  each  other,  is  in  the  same  proportion  as  if  the  semi- 
diameter  of  the  two  wheels  were  joined  together  and  made 
into  that  kind  of  lever  I  have  described,  suspended  at  the 
part  where  the  semi-diameters  join;  for  the  two  wheels, 
scientifically  considered,  are  no  other  than  the  two  circles 
generated  by  the  motion  of  the  compound  lever. 

It  is  from  the  study  of  the  true  theology  that  all  our 
knowledge  of  science  is  derived,  and  it  is  from  that  knowl- 
edge that  all  the  arts  have  originated. 

The    Almighty  Lecturer,  by  displaying  the  principles  of 


PART  LJ  THE    AGE    OK    REASON.  3d 

science  in  the  structure  of  the  universe,  has  invited  man  to 
study  and  to  imitation.  It  is  as  if  He  had  said  to  the  in- 
habitants of  this  globe,  that  we  call  ours,  u  I  have  made  an 
earth  for  man  to  dwell  upon,  and  I  have  rendered  the  starry 
heavens  visible,  to  teach  him  science  and  the  arts.  He  can 
now  provide  for  his  own  comfort,  AND  LEARN  FBOM  MY  MUNI- 
FICENCE TO  ALL,  TO  BE  KIND  TO  EACH  OTHER." 

Of  what  use  is  it,  unless  it  be  to  teach  man  something, 
that  his  eye  is  endowed  with  the  power  of  beholding,  to  an 
incomprehensible  distance,  an  immensity  of  worlds  revolv- 
ing in  the  ocean  of  space  ?  Or  of  what  use  is  it  that  this 
immensity  of  worlds  is  visible  to  man?  What  has  man  to 
do  with  the  Pleiades,  with  Orion,  with  Sirius,  with  the  star 
he  calls  the  north  star,  with  the  moving  orbs  he  has  named 
Saturn,  Jupiter,  Mars,  Venus,  and  Mercury,  if  no  uses  are 
to  follow  from  their  being  visible?  A  less  power  of  vision 
would  have  been  sufficient  for  man,  if  the  immensity  he 
now  possesses  were  given  only  to  waste  itself,  as  it  were,  on 
an  immense  desert  of  space  glittering  with  shows. 

It  is  only  by  contemplating  what  he  calls  the  starry 
heavens,  as  the  book  and  school  of  science,  that  he  discovers 
any  use  in  their  being  visible  to  him,  or  any  advantage 
resulting  from  his  immensity  of  vision.  But  when  he  con- 
templates the  subject  in  this  light,  he  sees  an  additional 
motive  for  saying,  that  nothing  was  made  in  vain;  for  in 
vain  would  be  this  power  of  vision  if  it  taught  man  noth- 
ing. 

As  the  Christian  system  of  faith  has  made  a  revolution 
in  theology,  so  also  has  it  made  a  revolution  in  the  state  'of 
learning.  That  which  is  now  called  learning,  was  not 
learning,  originally.  Learning  does  not  consist,  as  the 
schools  now  make  it  consist,  in  the  knowledge  of  languages, 
but  in  the  knowledge  of  things  to  which  language  gives 
names. 

The  Greeks  were  &  learned  people,  but  learning  with 
them  did  not  consist  in  speaking  Greek,  any  more  than  in 
a  Roman's  speaking  Latin,  or  a  Frenchman's  speaking 
French,  or  an  Englishman's  speaking  English.  From 
what  we  know  of  the  Greeks,  it  does  not  appear  that  they 
knew  or  studied  any  language  but  their  own,  and  this  was 
one  cause  of  their  becoming  so  learned;  it  afforded  them 
more  time  to  apply  themselves  to  better  studies.  The 


84  THB    AGE    OF    SEASON.  [PAJTT  L 

schools  of  the  Greeks  were  schools  of  science  and  philoso- 
phy, and  not  of  languages;  and  it  is  in  the  knowledge  of 
the  things  that  science  and  philosophy  teach,  that  learning 
consists. 

Almost  all  the  scientific  learning  that  now  exists,  came  to 
us  from  the  Greeks,  or  the  people  who  spoke  the  Greek  lan- 
guage. It,  therefore,  became  necessary  for  the  people  of  otner 
nations,  who  spoke  a  different  language,  that  some  among 
them  should  learn  the  Greek  language,  in  order  that  the 
learning  the  Greeks  had,  might  be  made  known  in  those 
nations,  by  translating  the  Greek  books  of  science  and  phi- 
losophy into  the  mother  tongue  of  each  nation. 

The  study,  therefore,  of  the  Greek  language  (and  in  the 
same  manner  for  the  Latin)  was  no  other  than  the  drudgery 
business  of  a  linguist ;  and  the  language  thus  obtained,  was 
no  other  than  the  means,  as  it  were  the  tools,  employed  to 
obtain  the  learning  the  Greeks  had.  It  made  no  part  of  the 
learning  itself ;  and  was  so  distinct  from  it,  as  to  make  it  ex- 
ceedingly probable  that  the  persons  who  had  studied  Greek 
sufficiently  to  translate  those  works,  such,  for  instance,  as 
Euclid's  Elements,  did  not  understand  any  of  the  learning 
the  works  contained. 

As  there  is  now  nothing  new  to  be  learned  from  the  dead 
languages,  all  the  useful  books  being  already  translated,  the 
languages  are  become  useless,  and  the  time  expended  in 
teaching  and  learning  them  is  wasted.  So  far  as  the  study 
of  languages  may  contribute  to  the  progress  and  communica- 
tion of  knowledge,  (for  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  creation 
of  knowledge,)  it  is  only  in  the  living  languages  that  new 
knowledge  is  to  be  found ;  and  certain  it  is,  that,  in  general, 
a  youth  will  learn  more  of  a  living  language  in  one  year,  than 
of  a  dead  language  in  seven  ;  and  it  is  but  seldom  that  the 
teacher  knows  much  of  it  himself.  The  difficulty  of  learning 
the  dead  languages  does  not  arise  from  any  superior  ab- 
Btruseness  in  the  languages  themselves,  but  in  their  being 
dead,  and  the  pronunciation  entirely  lost.  It  would  be  the 
same  thing  with  any  other  language  when  it  becomes  dead. 
The  best  Greek  linguist  that  now  exists,  does  not  under- 
stand Greek  so  well  as  a  Grecian  ploughman  did,  or  a  Gre- 
cian  milkmaid;  and  the  same  for  the  Latin,  compared  with  a 
ploughman  or  milkmaid  of  the  Romans  ;  it  would  therefore 
be  advantageous  to  the  state  of  learning  to  abolish  the  study 


l.J  THE    AGE   OF    BEASON.  35 

of  the  dead  languages,  and  to  make  learning1  consist,  M  it 
originally  did,  in  scientific  knowledge. 

The  apology  that  is  sometimes  made  for  continuing  to 
teach  the  dead  languages  is,  that  they  are  taught  at  a  time, 
when  a  child  is  not  capable  of  exerting  any  other  mental 
faculty  than  that  of  memory  ;  but  that  is  altogether  errone- 
ous. The  human  mind  has  a  natural  disposition  to  scientific 
knowledge,  and  to  the  things  connected  with  it.  The  first 
and  favorite  amusement  of  a  child,  even  before  it  begins  to 
play,  is  that  of  imitating  the  works  of  man.  It  builds  houses 
with  cards  or  sticks;  it  navigates  the  little  ocean  of  a  bowl  of 
water  with  a  paper  boat,  or  dams  the  stream  of  a  gutter,  and 
contrives  something  which  it  calls  a  mill ;  and  it  interests 
itself  in  the  fate  of  its  works  with  a  care  that  resembles 
affection.  It  afterwards  goes  to  school,  where  its  genius  is 
killed  by  the  barren  study  of  a  dead  language,  and  the  phi- 
losopher is  lost  in  the  linguist. 

But  the  apology  that  is  now  made  for  continuing  to  teach 
the  dead  languages,  could  not  be  the  cause,  at  first,  of  cut- 
ting down  learning  to  the  narrow  and  humble  sphere  of 
linguistry  ;  the  cause,  therefore,  must  be  sought  for  else- 
where. In  all  researches  of  this  kind,  the  best  evidence 
that  can  be  produced,  is  the  eternal  evidence  the  thing 
carries  with  itself,  and  the  evidence  of  circumstances  that 
unites  with  it ;  both  of  which,  in  this  case,  are  not  difficult 
to  be  discovered. 

Putting,  then,  aside,  as  a  matter  of  distinct  consideration, 
the  outrage  offered  to  the  moral  justice  of  God,  by  suppos- 
ing him  to  make  the  innocent  suffer  for  the  guilty,  and  also 
the  loose  morality  and  low  contrivance  of  supposing  him  to 
change  himself  into  the  shape  of  a  man,  in  order  to  make  an 
excuse  to  himself  for  not  executing  his  supposed  sentence 
upon  Adam  ;  putting,  I  say,  those  things  aside  as  a  matter 
of  distinct  consideration,  it  is  certain  that  what  is  called  the 
Christian  system  of  faith,  including  in  it  the  whimsical  ac- 
count of  the  creation — the  strange  story  of  Eve — the  snake 
and  the  apple — the  ambiguous  idea  of  a  man-god — the  cor- 
poral idea  of  the  death  of  a  god — the  mythological  idea  of  a 
family  of  gods,  and  the  Christian  system  of  arithmetic,  that 
three  are  one,  and  one  is  three,  are  all  irreconcilable,  not  only 
to  the  divine  gift  of  reason,  that  God  hath  given  to  man,  but 
to  the  knowledge  that  man  gains  of  the  power  and  wisdom 


86  THE    AOt    OF    REASON.  [PAKT  L 

of  God,  by  the  aid  of  the  sciences,  and  by  studying  the  struo- 
ture  of  the  universe  that  God  has  made. 

The  setters-up  therefore,  and  the  advocates  of  the  Chris- 
tian system  of  faith,  could  not  but  foresee  that  the  continu- 
ally progressive  knowledge  that  man  would  gain,  by  the 
aid  of  science,  of  the  power  and  wisdom  of  God,  manifested 
in  the  structure  of  the  universe,  and  in  all  the  works  of 
Creation,  would  militate  against,  and  call  into  question,  the 
truth  of  their  system  of  faith;  and  therefore-  it  became 
necessary  to  their  purpose  to  cut  learning  down  to  a  size  less 
dangerous  to  their  project,  and  this  they  effected  by  restrict- 
ing the  idea  of  learning  to  the  dead  study  of  dead  languages. 

They  not  only  rejected  the  study  of  science  out  of  the 
Christian  schools,  but  they  persecuted  it;  and  it  is  only 
within  about  the  last  two  centuries  that  the  study  has  been 
revived.  So  late  as  1610,  Galileo,  a  Florentine,  discovered 
and  introduced  the  use  of  telescopes,  and  by  applying  them 
to  observe  the  motions  and  appearance  of  the  heavenly 
bodies,  afforded  additional  means  for  ascertaining  the  true 
structure  of  the  universe.  Instead  of  being  esteemed  for 
those  discoveries,  he  was  sentenced  to  renounce 'them,  or  the 
opinions  resulting  from  them,  as  a  damnable  heresy.  And, 
prior  to  that  time,  Vigilius  was  condemned  to  be  burned  for 
asserting  the  antipodes,  or  in  other  words,  that  the  earth 
was  a  globe,  and  habitable  in  every  part  where  there  was 
land;  yet  the  truth  of  this  is  now  too  well  known  even  to  be 
told. 

If  the  belief  of  errors  not  morally  bad  did  no  mischief,  it 
would  make  no  part  of  the  moral  duty  of  man  to  oppose  and 
remove  them.  There  was  no  moral  ill  in  believing  the  earth 
was  flat  like  a  trencher,  any  more  than  there  was  moral  virtue 
in  believing  that  it  was  round  like  a  globe;  neither  was 
there  any  moral  ill  in  believing  that  the  Creator  made  no 
other  world  than  this,  any  more  than  there  was  moral  virtue 
in  believing  that  he  made  millions,  and  that  the  infinity  of 
space  is  filled  with  worlds.  But  when  a  system  of  religion 
is  made  to  grow  out  of  a  supposed  system  of  creation  that  is 
not  true,  and  to  unite  itself  therewith  in  a  manner  almost 
inseparable  therefrom,  the  case  assumes  an  entirely  different 
ground.  It  is  then  that  errors,  not  morally  bad,  become 
fraught  with  the  same  mischiefs  as  if  they  were.  It  is  then 
that  the  truth,  though  otherwise  indifferent  itself,  becomes  an 


PAST  I.]  TliK    AGE    OF    REASON.  37 

essential,  by  becoming  the  criterion,  that  either  confirms  by 
corresponding  evidence,  or  denies  by  contradictory  evidence, 
the  reality  of  the  religion  itself.  In  this  view  of  the  case,  it 
is  the  moral  duty  of  man  to  obtain  every  possible  evidence 
that  the  structure  of  the  heavens,  or  any  other  part  of  crea- 
tion affords,  with  respect  to  systems  of  religion.  But  this, 
the  supporters  or  partisans  of  the  Christian  system,  as  if 
dreading  the  result,  incessantly  opposed,  and  not  only 
rejected  the  sciences,  but  persecuted  the  professors.  Had 
Newton  or  Descartes  lived  three  or  four  hundred  years  ago, 
and  pursued  their  studies  as  they  did,  it  is  most  probable 
they  would  not  have  lived  to  finish  them;  and  had  Franklin 
drawn  lightning  from  the  clouds  at  the  same  time,  it  would 
have  been  at  the  hazard  of  expiring  for  it  in  flames. 

Later  times  have  laid  all  the  blame  upon  the  Goths  and 
Vandals;  but,  however  unwilling  the  partisans  of  the  Chris- 
tian system  may  be  to  believe  or  to  acknowledge  it,  it  is 
nevertheless  true,  that  the  age  of  ignorance  commenced  with 
the  Christian  system.  There  was  more  knowledge  in  the 
world  before  that  period,  than  for  many  centuries  afterwards; 
and  as  to  religious  knowledge,  the  Christian  system,  as 
already  said,  was  only  another  species  of  mythology;  and  the 
mythology  to  which  it  succeeded,  was  a  corruption  of  an 
ancient  system  of  theism.* 

It  is  owing  to  this  long  interregnum  of  science,  and  to 
no  other  cause,  that  we  have  now  to  look  through  a  vast 
chasm  of  many  hundred  years  to  the  respectable  characters 

•It  Is  Impossible  for  us  now  to  know  at  what  time  the  heathen  mythology 
began  ;  bat  it  Is  certain,  from  the  internal  evidence  that  it  carries,  that  It  did  not 
begin  In  the  same  state  or  condition  in  which  It  ended.  All  the  gods  of  that 
mythology,  except  Saturn,  were  of  modern  invention.  The  supposed  reign  of 
Saturn  was  prior  to  that  which  is  called  the  heathen  mythology,  and  was  so  far  a 
•pecies  of  theism,  that  It  admitted  the  belief  of  only  one  God.  Saturn  is  supposed 
to  have  abdicated  the  government  in  favor  of  his  three  sons  and  one  daughter, 
Jupitc-r,  Pinto,  Neptune,  and  Juno;  after  this,  thousands  of  other  gods  and  demi- 
gods were  imaginarily  created,  and  the  calendar  of  gods  Increased  as  fast  a*  the 
calendar  of  saints  und  the  calendars  of  courts  have  increased  since. 

All  the  corruptions  that  hare  taken  place,  in  theology  and  In  religion,  have  been 
produced  by  admitting  of  what  man  calls  revealed  religion.  The  MythologisU 
pretended  to  more  revealed  religion  than  the  Christians  do.  They  had  their 
oracles  and  their  priests,  who  were  supposed  to  receive  and  deliver  the  word  of 
God  verbally,  ou  almost  all  occasions. 

Since  then  all  corruptions  down  from  Moloch  to  modern  predestlnarianism, 
and  the  human  sacrifices  of  the  heathens  to  the  Christian  sacrlilce  of  the  Creator, 
have  been  produced  by  admitting  of  what  is  called  revealed  reliction  ;  the  most 
effectual  means  to  prevent  all  such  evils  and  impositions  is,  not  to  admit  of  any 
other  revelation  than  that  which  is  manifested  in  the  book  of  creation,  and  to 
contemplate  the  creation  as  the  only  trn«  and  real  work  of  God  that  ever  did,  or 
ever  will  exist;  and  that  everything  else  called  the  word  of  God,  is  fable  and 
Imposition 


S8  THE    AOB    OK    SEASON.  [PAJR  I. 

we  call  the  ancients.  Had  the  progression  of  knowledge 
gone  on  proportionably  with  the  stock  that  before  existed, 
that  chasm  would  have  been  filled  up  with  characters  rising 
superior  in  knowledge  to  each  other;  and  those  ancients 
we  now  so  much  admire,  would  have  appeared  respectably 
in  the  background  of  the  scene.  But  the  Christian  system 
laid  all  waste  ;  and  if  we  take  our  stand  about  the  beginning 
of  tne  sixteenth  century,  we  look  back  through  that  long 
chasm,  to  the  times  of  the  ancients,  as  over  a  vast  sandy  des- 
ert, in  which  not  a  shrub  appears  to  intercept  the  vision,  to 
the  fertile  hills  beyond. 

It  is  an  inconsistency  scarcely  possible  to  be  credited,  that 
any  thing  should  exist,  under  the  name  of  a  religion,  that 
held  it  to  be  irreligious  to  study  and  contemplate  the  struc- 
ture of  the  universe  that  God  had  made.  But  the  fact  is  too 
well  established  to  be  denied.  The  event  that  served  more 
than  any  other  to  break  the  first  link  in  this  long  chain  of 
despotic  ignorance,  is  that  known  by  the  name  of  the  Refor- 
mation by  Luther.  From  that  time,  though  it  does  nonippear 
to  have  made  any  part  of  the  intention  of  Luther,  or  of  those 
who  are  called  reformers,  the  sciences  began  to  revive,  and 
liberality,  their  natural  associate,  began  to  appear.  This 
was  the  only  public  good  the  Reformation  did ;  for,  with 
respect  to  religious  good,  it  might  as  well  not  have  taken 
place.  The  mythology  still  continued  the  same  ;  and  a  mul- 
tiplicity of  National  Popes  grew  out  of  the  downfall  of  the 
Pope  of  Christendom. 

Having  thus  shown  from  the  internal  evidence  of  things, 
the  cause  that  produced  a  change  in  the  state  of  learning, 
and  the  motive  for  substituting  the  study  of  dead  languages, 
in  the  place  of  the  sciences,  I  proceed,  in  addition  to  tne  sev- 
eral observations,  already  made  in  the  former  part  of  this 
work,  to  compare,  or  rather  to  confront  the  evidence  that 
the  structure  of  the  universe  affords,  with  the  Christian  sys- 
tem of  religion  ;  but,  as  I  cannot  begin  this  part  better  than 
by  referring  to  the  ideas  that  occurred  to  me  at  an  early  part 
of  life,  and  which  I  doubt  not  have  occurred  in  some  degree 
to  almost  every  other  person  at  one  time  or  other,  I  shall  state 
what  those  ideas  were,  and  add  thereto  such  other  matter  as 
•hall  arise  out  of  the  subject,  giving  to  the  whole,  by  way  of 
preface,  a  short  introduction. 

My  father  being  of  the  Quaker  profession,  it  was  my  good 


PAST  I.J  THE    AOK   OJT    KKA8OM.  89 

fortune  to  have  an  exceeding  good  moral  education,  and  a 
tolerable  stock  of  useful  learning.  Though  I  went  to  the 
grammar  school,*  I  did  not  learn  Latin,  not  only  because  I 
had  no  inclination  to  learn  languages,  but  because  of  the  ob- 
jection the  Quakers  have  against  the  books  in  which  the  lan- 
guage is  taught.  But  this  did  not  prevent  me  from  being 
acquainted  with  the  subjects  of  all  the  [Latin  books  used  in 
the  school. 

The  natural  bent  of  my  mind  was  to  science.  I  had  some 
turn,  and  I  believe  some  talent  for  poetry  ;  but  this  I  rather 
repressed  than  encouraged,  as  leading  too  much  into  the  field 
of  imagination.  As  soon  as  I  was  able,  I  purchased  a  pair  of 
globes,  and  attended  the  philosophical  lectures  of  Martin  and 
Ferguson,  and  became  afterwards  acquainted  with  Dr.  Be  vis, 
of  the  society,  called  the  Royal  Society,  then  living  in  the 
Temple,  and  an  excellent  astronomer. 

I  had  no  disposition  for  what  is  called  politics.  It  pre- 
sented to  my  mind  no  other  idea  than  is  contained  in  the 
word  Jockeyship.  When,  therefore,  I  turned  my  thoughts 
towards  matters  of  government,  I  had  to  form  a  system  for 
myself,  that  accorded  with  the  moral  and  philosophic  princi- 
ples in  which  I  had  been  educated.  I  saw,  or  at  least  I 
thought  I  saw,  a  vast  scene  opening  itself  to  the  world  in 
the  affairs  of  America ;  and  it  appeared  to  me,  that  unless 
the  Americans  changed  the  plan  they  were  then  pursuing, 
with  respect  to  the  government  of  England,  and  declared 
themselves  independent,  they  would  not  only  involve  them- 
selves in  a  multiplicity  of  new  difficulties,  but  shut  out  the 
prospect  that  was  then  offering  itself  to  mankind  through 
their  means.  It  was  from  these  motives  that  I  published  the 
work  known  by  the  name  of  "  Common  Sense"  which  is  the 
first  work  I  ever  did  publish ;  and  so  far  as  I  can  judge 
of  myself,  I  believe  I  should  never  have  been  known  in  the 
world  as  an  author,  on  any  subject  whatever,  had  it  not  been 
for  the  affairs  of  America.  I  wrote  "  Common  Sense"  the 
latter  end  of  the  year  1775,  and  published  it  the  first  of  Jan- 
uary, 1776.  Independence  was  declared  the  fourth  of  July 
following. 

Any  person,  who  has  made  observations  on  the  state 
and  progress  of  the  human  mind,  by  observing  his  own, 

*Th«  tame  school,  Thetford  In  Norfolk,  mm  the  preMnt  Counselor  Mlngaj 
west,  to  and  under  the  tame  master 


40  THK    AOB    OF    BEASOH.  [PACT  L 

cannot  but  have  observed,  that  there  are  two  distinct 
classes  of  what  are  called  Thoughts  ;  those  that  we  produce 
in  ourselves  by  reflection  and  the  act  of  thinking,  and  those 
that  bolt  into  the  mind  of  their  own  accord.  I  have  always 
made  it  a  rule  to  treat  those  voluntary  visitors  with  civility, 
taking  care  to  examine,  as  well  as  I  was  able,  if  they  were 
worth  entertaining  ;  and  it  is  from  them  I  have  acquired 
almost  all  the  knowledge  that  I  have.  As  to  the  learning 
that  any  person  gains  from  school  education,  it  serves  only 
like  a  small  capital,  to  put  him  in  the  way  of  beginning 
learning  for  himself  afterwards.  Every  person  of  learning 
is  finally  his  own  teacher,  the  reason  of  which  is,  that  prin- 
ciples, being  of  a  distinct  quality  to  circumstances,  cannot 
be  impressed  upon  the  memory;  their  place  of  mental  resi- 
dence is  the  understanding,  and  thtw  are  never  so  lasting  as 
when  they  begin  by  conception.  Thus  much  for  the  intro- 
ductory part. 

From  the  time  I  was  capable  of  conceiving  an  idea,  and 
acting  upon  it  by  reflection,  I  either  doubted  the  truth  of 
the  Christian  system,  or  thought  it  to  be  a  strange  affair;  I 
scarcely  knew  which  it  was;  but  I  well  remember,  when 
about  seven  or  eight  years  of  age,  hearing  a  sermon  read 
by  a  relation  of  mine,  who  was  a  great  devotee  of  the 
church,  upon  the  subject  of  what  is  called  redemption  by 
the  death  of  the  Son  of  God.  After  the  sermon  was  ended, 
I  went  into  the  garden,  and  as  I  was  going  down  the  garden 
steps  (for  I  perfectly  recollect  the  spot)  I  revolted  at  the 
recollection  of  what  I  had  heard,  and  thought  to  myself 
that  it  was  making  God  Almighty  act  like  a  passionate 
man,  that  killed  his  son,  when  he  could  not  revenge  him- 
self any  other  way;  and  as  I  was  sure  a  man  would  be 
hanged  that  did  such  a  thing,  I  could  not  see  for  what  pur- 
pose they  preached  such  sermons.  This  was  not  one  of  that 
kind  of  thoughts  that  had  anything  in  it  of  childish  levity; 
it  was  to  me  a  serious  reflection,  arising  from  the  idea 
I  had,  that  God  was  too  good  to  do  such  an  action,  and 
also  too  almighty  to  be  under  any  necessity  of  doing  it. 
I  believe  in  the  same  manner  at  this  moment;  and  I  more- 
over believe,  that  any  system  of  religion  that  has  any 
thing  in  it  that  shocks  the  mind  of  a  child,  cannot  be  a 
true  system. 

It    seems  as  if   parents  of  the  Christian   profession   were 


PAST  I.J  THE    AGE    OF    REA8OHL  41 

ashamed  to  tell  their  children  any  thing  about  the  prin- 
ciples of  their  religion.  They  sometimes  instruct  them  in 
morals,  and  talk  to  them  of  the  goodness  of  what  they  call 
Providence;  for  the  Christian  Mythology  has  five  deities — 
there  is  God  the  Father,  God  the  Son,  God  the  Holy  Ghost, 
the  God  Providence,  and  the  Goddess  Nature.  But  the 
Christian  story  of  God  the  Father  putting  his  son  to  death, 
or  employing  people  to  do  it,  (for  that  is  the  plain  language 
of  the  story,)  cannot  be  told  by  a  parent  to  a  child;  and 
to  tell  him  that  it  was  done  to  make  mankind  happier  and 
better,  is  making  the  story  still  worse;  as  if  mankind  could 
be  improved  by  the  example  of  murder;  and  to  tell  him 
that  all  this  is  a  mystery,  is  only  making  an  excuse  for  the 
incredibility  of  it. 

How  different  is  this  to  the  pure  and  simple  profession 
of  Deism!  The  true  Deist  has  but  one  Deity;  and  his 
religion  consists  in  contemplating  the  power,  wisdom  and 
benignity  of  the  Deity  in  his  works,  and  in  endeavoring 
to  imitate  him  in  every  thing  moral,  scientifical  and  me- 
chanical. 

The  religion  that  approaches  the  nearest  of  all  others  to 
true  Deism,  in  the  moral  and  benign  part  thereof,  is  tnax 
professed  by  the  Quakers:  but  they  have  contracted  them- 
selves too  much,  by  leaving  the  works  of  God  out  of  their 
system.  Though  I  reverence  their  philanthropy,  I  can  not 
help  smiling  at  the  conceit,  that  if  the  taste  of  a  Quaker 
could  have  been  consulted  at  the  creation  what  a  silent 
and  drab-colored  creation  it  would  have  been!  Not  a 
flower  would  have  blossomed  its  gaities,  nor  a  bird  been 
permitted  to  sing. 

Quitting  these  reflections,  I  proceed  to  other  matters. 
After  I  had  made  myself  master  of  the  use  of  the  globes, 
and  of  the  orrery,*  and  conceived  an  idea  of  the  infinity  of 
space,  and  the  eternal  divisability  of  matter,  and  obtained, 
at  least,  a  general  knowledge  of  what  was  called  natural 
philosophy,  I  began  to  compare,  or,  as  I  have  before  said, 

AithU  hook  may  fall  Into  the  hands  of  penom  who  do  not  know  what 


an  orrery  to,  it  ie  for  their  information   I  add  this  note,  a*  the  name  give*  no 

Id  a  of  the  uses  of  the  thing.    The  orrery  ha*   1U  name  from  t' 

Invented  it.    It  is  a  machinery  of  clock-work,    representing   t 

miniature,  and  In  which  the  revolution  of  the  earth  round  itself  and  rouud  the  son. 


the  revolution  of  the  moon  round  the  earth,  the  revolution  of  the  planets  round  the 
sau,  their  relative  distances  from  the  sun,  as  the  centre  of  the  whole  system,  their 
relative  distances  from  each  other,  and  their  different  magnitude*,  are  represent- 
ed u  tfcey  really  eiiat  la  what  we  call  the  heaven*. 


43  THE    AQX   Or    BEASOH.  [PAST  L 

to  confront  the  eternal  evidence  those  things  afford  with 
the  Christian  system  of  faith. 

Though  it  is  not  a  direct  article  of  the  Christian  system, 
that  this  world  that  we  inhabit  is  the  whole  of  the  habit- 
able creation,  yet  it  is  so  worked  up  therewith,  from  what 
is  called  the  Mosaic  account  of  the  Creation,  the  story  of 
Eve  and  the  apple,  and  the  counterpart  of  that  story,  the 
death  of  the  Son  of  God,  that  to  believe  otherwise,  that  is, 
to  believe  that  God  created  a  plurality  of  worlds,  at  least  as 
numerous  as  what  we  call  stars,  renders  the  Christian  system 
of  faith  at  once  little  and  ridiculous,  and  scatters  it  in  the 
mind  like  feathers  in  the  air.  The  two  beliefs  cannot  be 
held  together  in  the  same  mind;  and  he  who  thinks  that  he 
believes  both,  has  thought  but  little  of  either. 

Though  the  belief  of  a  plurality  of  worlds  was  familiar  to 
the  ancients,  it  is  only  within  the  last  three  centuries  that 
the  extent  and  dimensions  of  this  globe  that  we  inhabit  have 
been  ascertained.  Several  vessels,  following  the  tract  of  the 
ocean,  have  sailed  entirely  round  the  world,  as  a  man  may 
march  in  a  circle,  and  come  round  by  the  contrary  side  of  the 
circle  to  the  spot  he  set  out  from.  The  circular  dimensions 
of  our  world,  in  the  widest  part,  as  a  man  would  measure 
the  widest  round  of  an  apple,  or  a  ball,  is  only  twei  ty-five 
thousand  and  twenty  English  miles,  reckoning  sixty-nine 
miles  and  a  half  to  an  equatorial  degree,  and  may  be  sailed 
round  in  the  space  of  about  three  vears.* 

A  world  of  this  extent  may,  at  first  thought,  appear  to  as 
to  be  great;  but  if  we  compare  it  with  the  immensity  of 
space  in  which  it  is  suspended,  like  a  bubble  or  balloon  in  the 
air,  it  is  infinitely  less,  in  proportion,  than  the  smallest  grain 
of  sand  is  to  the  size  of  the  world,  or  the  finest  particle  of 
dew  to  the  whole  ocean,  and  is  therefore  but  small;  and,  aa 
will  be  hereafter  shown,  is  only  one  of  a  system  of  worlds,  of 
which  the  universal  creation  is  composed. 

It  is  not  difficult  to  gain  some  faint  idea  of  the  immensity 
of  space  in  which  this  and  all  the  other  worlds  are  suspended, 
if  we  follow  a  progression  of  ideas.  When  we  think  of  the 
size  or  dimensions  of  a  room,  our  ideas  limit  themselves  to 
the  walls,  and  there  they  stop;  but  when  our  eye  or  our 
imagination  darts  into  space,  that  is,  when  it  looks  upwards 

•Allow-In?  a  sbtp  to  mill,  on  an  average,  three  miles  In  an  hour,  the  would  sail 
entirely  round  the  world  In  lew  than  out-  y  ar,  If  che  couJd  »atl  IB  a  direct  circles 
li  obliged  to  follow  the  course  of  the  oceafa. 


PAST  L]  THE    AGE    OS    KKA8OH.  43 

into  what  we  call  the  open  air,  we  cannot  conceive  any  walls 
or  boundaries  it  can  have;  and  if  for  the  sake  of  resting  our 
ideas,  we  suppose  a  boundary,  the  question  immediately 
renews  itself,  and  asks,  what  is  beyond  that  boundary?  and 
in  the  same  manner,  what  beyond  the  next  boundary?  and 
so  on  till  the  fatigued  imagination  returns  and  says,  there  i* 
no  end.  Certainly,  then,  the  Creator  was  not  pent  for  room, 
when  he  made  this  world  no  larger  than  it  is;  and  we  have 
to  seek  the  reason  in  something  else. 

If  we  take  a  survey  of  our  own  world,  or  rather  of  this  of 
which  the  Creator  has  given  us  the  use,  as  our  portion  in  the 
immense  system  of  Creation,  we  find  every  part  of  it,  the 
earth,  the  waters,  and  the  air  that  surrounds  it,  filled,  and,  as 
it  were,  crowded  with  life,  down  from  the  largest  animals  we 
know  of  to  the  smallest  insects  the  naked  eye  can  behold, 
and  from  thence  to  others  still  smaller,  and  totally  invisible 
without  the  assistance  of  the  microscope.  Every  tree,  every 
plant,  every  leaf,  serves  not  only  as  an  habitation,  but  as  a 
world  to  some  numerous  race,  till  animal  existence  becomes 
so  exceedingly  refined,  that  the  effluvia  of  a  blade  of  grass 
would  be  food  for  thousands. 

Since,  then,  no  part  of  our  earth  is  left  unoccupied,  why  is 
it  to  be  supposed  that  the  immensity  of  space  is  a  naked 
void,  lying  in  eternal  waste?  There  is  room  for  millions  of 
worlds  as  large  or  larger  than  ours,  and  each  of  them  millions 
of  miles  apart  from  each  other. 

Having  now  arrived  at  this  point,  if  we  carry  our  ideas 
only  one  thought  further,  we  shall  see,  perhaps,  the  true 
reason,  at  least  a  very  good  reason,  for  our  happiness,  why 
the  Creator,  instead  of  making  one  immense  world,  extending 
over  an  immense  quantity  of  space,  has  preferred  dividing 
that  quantity  of  matter  into  several  distinct  and  separate 
worlds,  which  we  call  planets,  of  which  our  earth  is  one. 
But  before  I  explain  my  ideas  upon  this  subject,  it  is  neces- 
sary (not  for  the  sake  of  those  who  already  know,  but 
for  those  who  do  not)  to  show  what  the  system  of  the 
universe  is. 

That  part  of  the  universe  that  is  called  the  solar  system 
(meaning  the  system  of  worlds  to  which  our  earth  belongs, 
and  of  which  Sol,  or  in  English  language,  the  Sun,  is  the 
center)  consists,  besides  the  Sun,  of  six  distinct  orbs,  or 
planets,  or  worlds,  besides  the  secondary  bodies,  called  the 


4  r  TUtt    AUK    OF    KKASON.  [PAST  JL 

satellites  or  moons  of  which  our  earth  has  one  that  attends 
her  in  her  annual  revolution  round  the  Sun,  in  like  manner 
as  other  satellites  or  moons,  attend  the  planets  or  worlds  to 
which  they  severally  belong,  as  may  be  seen  by  the  assist- 
ance of  the  telescope. 

The  Sun  is  the  center,  round  which  those  six  worlds  or 
planets  revolve  at  different  distances  therefrom,  and  in 
circles  concentrate  to  each  other.  Each  world  keeps  con- 
stantly in  nearly  the  same  track  round  the  Sun,  and  con- 
tinues, at  the  same  time,  turning  round  itself,  rn  nearly  an 
upright  position,  as  a  top  turns  round  itself  when  it  is  spin- 
ning on  the  ground,  and  leans  a  little  sideways. 

It  is  this  leaning  of  the  earth  (23£  degrees)  that  occasions 
summer  and  winter,  and  the  different  length  of  dkys  and 
nights.  If  the  earth  turned  round  itself  in  a  position  per- 
pendicular to  the  plane  or  level  of  the  circle  it  moves  in 
around  the  Sun,  as  a  top  turns  round  when  it  stands  erect 
on  the  ground,  the  days  and  nights  would  be  always  of  the 
same  length — twelve  hours  day  and  twelve  hours  night — 
and  the  seasons  would  be  uniformly  the  same  throughout 
the  year. 

Every  time  that  a  planet  (our  earth,  for  example)  turns 
round  itself,  it  makes  what  we  call  day  and  night;  and  every 
time  it  goes  entirely  round  the  Sun,  it  makes  what  we  call  a 
year;  consequently  our  world  turns  three  hundred  and  sixty- 
five  times  round  itself  in  going  once  round  the  Sun,* 

The  names  that  the  ancients  gave  to  those  six  worlds,  and 
which  are  still  called  by  the  same  names,  are  Mercury, Venus, 
this  world  that  we  call  ours,  Mars,  Jupiter  and  Saturn.  They 
appear  larger  to  the  eye  than  the  stars,  being  many  million 
miles  nearer  to  our  earth  than  any  of  the  stars  are.  The 
planet  Venus  is  that  which  is  called  the  evening  star,  and 
sometimes  the  morning  star,  as  she  happens  to  set  after  or 
rise  before  the  Sun,  which,  in  either  case,  is  never  more  than 
three  hours. 

The  Sun,  as  before  said,  being  the  centre,  the  planet,  or 
world,  nearest  the  Sun  is  Mercury;  his  distance  from  the 
Sun  is  thirty-four  million  miles,  and  he  moves  round  in  a 
circles  always  at  that  distance  from  the  Sun,  as  a  top  may 

•Those  who  supposed  that  the  Sun  went  ronnd  the  earth  every  twenty-four  hour* 
made  the  same  mistake,  lii  Idea,  that  a  cook  would  do  ID  fact  that  ahoiild  make 
the  flre  go  round  the  meat,  instead  of  the  meat  luruing  round  luelf  toward* 

Ui«  lire. 


PAJET  LJ  THE    AOK   Or    REASON.  4ft 

be  supposed  to  spin  round  in  the  track  in  which  a  horse 
goes  in  a  mill.  The  second  world  is  Venus;  she  is  fifty- 
seven  million  miles  distant  from  the  Sun,  and  consequently 
moves  round  in  a  circle  much  greater  than  that  of  Mercury. 
The  third  world  is  that  we  inhabit,  and  which  is  eighty- 
eight  million  miles  distant  from  the  Sun,  and  consequently 
moves  round  in  a  circle  greater  than  that  of  Venus.  The 
fourth  world  is  Mars;  he  is  distant  from  the  Sun  one  hun- 
dred and  thirty-four  million  miles,  and  consequently  moves 
round  in  a  circle  greater  than  that  of  our  earth.  The  fifth 
is  Jupiter;  he  is  distant  from  the  sun  five  hundred  and 
fifty-seven  million  miles,  and  consequently  moves  round  in 
a  circle  greater  than  that  of  Mars.  The  sixth  world  is  Sat- 
urn ;  he  is  distant  from  the  Sun  seven  hundred  and  sixty- 
three  million  miles,  and  consequently  moves  round  in  a  circle 
that  surrounds  the  circles,  or  orbits,  of  all  the  other  worlds 
or  planets. 

The  space,  therefore,  in  the  air,  or  in  the  immensity  of 
space,  that  our  solar  system  takes  up  for  the  several  worlds 
to  perform  their  revolutions  in  round  the  Sun,  is  of  the 
extent,  in  a  straight  line,  of  the  whole  diameter  of  the  orbit 
or  circle  in  which  Saturn  moves  round  the  Sun,  which,  being 
double  his  distance  from  the  Sun,  is  fifteen  hundred  and 
twenty-six  million  miles,  and  its  circular  extent  is  nearly  five 
thousand  million  ;  and  its  globical  content  is  almost  three 
thousand  five  hundred  million  times  three  thousand  fire 
hundred  million  square  miles.* 

But  this,  immense  as  it  is,  is  only  one  system  of  worlds. 
Beyond  this,  at  a  vast  distance  into  space,  far  beyond  all 
power  of  calculation,  are  the  stars  called  the  fixed  stars. 
They  are  called  fixed  because  they  have  no  revolutionary 
motion,  as  the  six  worlds  or  planets  have  that  I  have  been 

•If  It  'herald  be  asked,  Jiow  can  man  know  these  things?  I  have  one  plain 
answer  to  give,  which  is  that  man  knows  how  to  calculate  an  eclipse,  and  alto 
how  to  calculate  to  a  mlnnte  of  time  when  the  planet  Venus,  In  making  her  revo- 
lutions round  Uie  Sun,  will  come  in  a  straight  line  between  our  earth  and  the  Sun, 
and  will  appear  to  us  about  the  size  of  a  large  pea  passing  across  the  surface  of 
the  Sun.  This  happens  but  twice  in  about  an  hundred  years,  at  the  distance  of 
about  eight  years  troni  each  other,  and  has  happened  twice  in  our  time,  both  of 
which  were  foreknown  by  calculation.  It  can  also  be  known  when  they  will  hap- 
pen again  for  a  thousand  years  to  come,  or  to  any  other  portion  of  time.  As, 
therefore,  man  could  not  be  able  to  do  these  things  if  he  did  not  understand  the 
solar  system,  and  the  manner  In  which  the  revolutions  of  the  several  planets  or 
worlds  are  performed,  the  fact  of  calculating  an  eclipse  or  a  transit  of  Venus  if  a 
proof  in  point  that  the  knowledge  exists ;  and,  as  to  a  few  thousand,  or  even  a  few 
million,  mile  ,  more  or  less,  It  makes  scarcely  any  sensible  dlflerence  Ik  such  1m- 


46  THK    AOK   OF    RKASOX.  [PABT  L 

describing.  Those  fixed  stars  continue  always  at  the  same 
distance  from  each  other,  and  always  in  the  same  place,  as 
the  Sun  does,  in  the  center  of  our  system.  The  probability, 
therefore,  is  that  each  of  those  fixed  stars  is  also  a  Sun, 
round  which  another  system  of  worlds  or  planets,  though  too 
remote  for  us  to  discover,  performs  its  revolutions,  as  our 
system  of  worlds  does  round  our  central  Sun. 

By  this  easy  progression  of  ideas  the  immensity  of  space 
wiM  appear  to  us  to  be  filled  with  systems  of  worlds;  and 
that  no  part  of  space  lies  at  waste,  any  more  than  any  part 
of  the  globe  or  earth  and  water  is  left  unoccupied. 

Having  thus  endeavored  to  convey,  in  a  familiar  and 
easy  manner,  some  idea  of  the  structure  of  the  universe,  I 
return  to  explain  what  I  before  alluded  to,  namely,  the 
great  benefits  arising  to  man  in  consequence  of  the  Creator 
having  made  a  plurality  of  worlds,  such  as  our  system  is, 
consisting  of  a  central  Sun  and  six  worlds  besides  satellites, 
in  preference  to  that  of  creating  one  world  only  of  a  vast 
extent. 

It  is  an  idea  I  have  never  lost  sight  of,  that  all  our 
knowledge  of  science  is  derived  from  the  revolutions  (ex- 
hibited to  our  eye  and  from  thence  to  our  understanding) 
which  those  several  planets  or  worlds,  of  which  our  system 
ta  composed,  make  in  their  circuit  round  the  Sun. 

Had  then  the  quantity  of  matter  which  these  six  worlds 
contain  been  blended  into  one  solitary  globe,  the  conse- 
quence to  us  would  have  been,  that  either  no  revolutionary 
motion  would  have  existed,  or  not  a  sufficiency  of  it  to  give 
us  the  idea  and  the  knowledge  of  science  we  now  have  ; 
and  it  is  from  the  sciences  that  all  the  mechanical  arts  that 
contribute  so  much  to  our  earthly  felicity  and  comfort,  are 
derived. 

As,  therefore,  the  Creator  made  nothing  in  vain,  so  also 
must  it  be  believed  that  He  organized  the  structure  of  the 
universe  in  the  most  advantageous  manner  for  the  benefit 
of  man  ;  and  as  we  see,  and  from  experience  feel,  the  bene- 
fits we  derive  from  the  structure  of  the  universe,  formed  as 
it  is,  which  benefits  we  should  not  have  had  the  opportunity 
of  enjoying,  if  the  structure,  so  far  as  relates  to  our  system, 
bad  been  a  solitary  globe — we  can  discover  at  least  one 
reason  why  a  plurality  of  worlds  has  been  made,  and  that 
reason  calls  forth  the  devotional  gratitude  of  man,  M  well 
u  his  admiration 


PAKT  L]  THB  AOK  OF  REASON.  47 

But  it  is  not  to  us,  the  inhabitants  of  this  globe,  only, 
that  the  benefits  arising  from  a  plurality  of  worlds  are 
limited.  The  inhabitants  of  each  of  the  worlds  of  which 
our  system  is  composed,  enjoy  the  same  opportunities  of 
knowledge  as  we  do.  They  behold  the  revolutionary  mo- 
tions of  our  earth,  as  we  behold  theirs.  All  the  planets 
revolve  in  sight  of  each  other  ;  and,  therefore,  the  same 
universal  school  of  science  presents  itself  to  all. 

Neither  does  the  knowledge  stop  here.  The  system  of 
worlds  next  to  us  exhibits,  in  its  revolutions,  the  same 
principles  and  school  of  science,  to  the  inhabitants  of  their 
system,  as  our  system  does  to  us,  and  in  like  manner 
throughout  the  immensity  of  space. 

Our  ideas,  not  only  of  the  almightiness  of  the  Creator, 
but  of  his  wisdom  and  his  beneficence,  become  enlarged  in 
proportion  as  we  contemplate  the  extent  and  the  structure 
of  the  universe.  The  solitary  idea  of  a  solitary  world,  roll- 
ing or  at  rest  in  the  immense  ocean  of  space,  gives  place  to 
the  cheerful  idea  of  a  society  of  worlds,  so  happily  con- 
trived as  to  administer,  even  by  their  motion,  instruction  to 
man.  We  see  our  own  earth  filled  with  abundance  ;  but 
we  forget  to  consider  how  much  of  that  abundance  is  owing 
to  the  scientific  knowledge  the  vast  machinery  of  the  uni- 
verse has  unfolded. 

But,  in  the  midst  of  those  reflections,  what  are  we  to 
think  of  the  Christian  system  of  faith,  that  forms  itself  upon 
the  idea  of  only  one  world,  and  that  of  no  greater  extent, 
as  is  before  shown,  than  twenty-five  thousand  miles  ?  An 
extent  which  a  man,  walking  at  the  rate  of  three  miles  an 
hour,  for  twelve  hours  in  the  day,  could  he  keep  on  in  a 
circular  direction,  would  walk  entirely  round  in  less  than 
two  years.  Alas  !  what  is  this  to  the  mighty  ocean  of  space, 
and  the  almighty  power  of  the  Creator. 

From  whence  then  could  arise  the  solitary  and  strange 
conceit,  that  the  Almighty,  who  had  millions  of  worlds 
equally  dependent  on  his  protection,  should  quit  the  care 
of  all  the  rest,  and  come  to  die  in  our  world,  because  they 
say  one  man  and  one  woman  had  eaten  an  apple!  And, 
on  the  other  hand,  are  we  to  suppose  that  every  world  in 
the  boundless  creation,  had  an  Eve,  an  apple,  a  serpent, 
and  a  redeemer  ?  In  this  case,  the  person  who  is  irrever- 
ently called  the  Son  of  God,  and  sometimes  God  himself, 


48  THE    AGE   OF    KEASOIf.  [  PA  JIT  U 

would  have  nothing  else  to  do  than  to  travel  from  world 
to  world,  in  an  endless  succession  of  death,  with  scarcely  a 
momentary  interral  of  life. 

It  has  been  by  rejecting  the  evidence,  that  the  word  or 
works  of  God  in  the  creation  afford  to  our  senses,  and  the 
action  of  our  reason  upon  that  evidence,  that  so  many  wild 
and  whimsical  systems  of  faith,  and  of  religion,  have  been 
fabricated  and  set  up.  There  may  be  many  systems  of  re- 
ligion, that  so  far  from  being  morally  bad,  are  in  many 
respects  morally  good  :  but  there  can  be  but  OJTK  that  is 
true  ;  and  that  one  necessarily  must,  as  it  ever  will,  be  in 
all  things  consistent  with  the  ever-existing  word  of  God 
that  we  behold  in  his  works.  But  such  is  the  strange  con- 
struction of  the  Christian  system  of  faith,  that  every  evi- 
dence the  Heavens  afford  to  man,  either  directly  contradicts 
it,  or  renders  it  absurd. 

It  is  possible  to  believe,  and  I  always  feel  pleasure  in 
encouraging  myself  to  believe  it,  that  there  have  been  men 
in  the  world,  who  persuade  themselves  that,  what  is  called 
a  pious  fraud,  might,  at  least  under  particular  circumstances, 
be  productive  of  some  good.  But  the  fraud  being  once 
established,  could  not  afterwards  be  explained;  for  it  is  with 
a  pious  fraud  as  with  a  bad  action,  it  begets  a  calamitous 
necessity  of  going  on. 

The  persons  who  first  preached  the  Christian  system  of 
faith,  and  in  some  measure  combined  it  with  the  morality 
preached  by  Jesus  Christ,  might  persuade  themselves  that 
it  was  better  than  the  heathen  mythology  that  then  pre- 
vailed. From  the  first  preachers  the  fraud  went  on  to  the 
second,  and  to  the  third,  till  the  idea  of  its  being  a  pious 
fraud  became  lost  in  the  belief  of  its  being  true;  and  that 
belief  became  again  encouraged  by  the  interests  of  those 
who  made  a  livelihood  by  preaching  it. 

But  though  such  a  belief  might,  by  such  means,  be  ren- 
dered almost  general  among  the  laity,  it  is  next  to  impossi- 
ble to  account  for  the  continual  persecution  carried  on  by 
the  church,  for  several  hundred  years,  against  the  sciences, 
and  against  the  professors  of  sciences,  if  the  church  had  not 
some  record  or  tradition,  that  it  was  originally  no  other 
than  a  pious  fraud,  or  did  not  foresee,  that  it  could  not  be 
maintained  against  th*  evidence  that  the  structure  of  the 
universe  afforded. 


PART  I.]  THE    AOE    OF    REASON.  49 

Having  thus  shown  the  irreconcilable  inconsistencies 
between  the  real  word  of  God  existing  in  the  universe  and 
that  which  is  called  the  word  of  God,  as  shown  to  us  in  a 
printed  book  that  any  man  might  make,  I  proceed  to  speak 
of  the  three  principal  means  that  have  been  employed  in  all 
ages,  and  perhaps  in  all  countries,  to  impose  upon  man- 
god. 

These  three  means  are  Mystery,  Miracle,  and  Prophecy. 
The  two  first  are  incompatible  with  true  religion,  and  the 
third  ought  always  to  be  suspected. 

With  respect  to  mystery,  every  thing  we  behold  is,  in 
one  sense,  a  mystery  to  us.  Our  own  existence  is  a  mystery; 
the  whole  vegetable  world  is  a  mystery.  We  cannot  account 
how  it  is  that  an  acorn,  when  put  into  the  ground,  is  made  to 
develop  itself,  and  become  an  oak,.  We  know  not  how  it  is 
that  the  seed  we  sow  unfolds  and  multiplies  itself,  and  re- 
turns to  us  such  an  abundant  interest  for  so  small  a 
capital. 

The  fact,  however,  as  distinct  from  the  operating  cause, 
!8  not  a  mystery,  because  we  see  it;  and  we  know  also  the 
means  we  are  to  use,  which  is  no  other  than  putting  seed 
in  the  ground.  We  know,  therefore,  as  much  as  is  neces- 
sary for  us  to  know;  and  that  part  of  the  operation  that  we 
do  not  know,  and  which  if  we  did,  we  could  not  perform, 
the  Creator  takes  upon  himself  and  performs  it  for  us.  We 
are,  therefore,  better  off  than  if  we  had  been  let  into  the  secret, 
and  left  to  do  it  for  ourselves. 

But  though  every  created  thing  is,  in  this  sense,  a  mys- 
tery, the  word  mystery  cannot  be  applied  to  moral  truth, 
any  more  than  obscurity  can  be  applied  to  light.  The  God 
in  whom  we  believe  is  a  God  of  moral  truth,  and  not  a  God 
of  mystery  or  obscurity.  Mystery  is  the  antagonist  of  truth. 
It  is  a  fog  of  human  invention,  that  obscures  truth,  and  rep- 
resents it  in  distortion.  Truth  never  envelops  itself  in  mys- 
tery; and  the  mystery  in  which  it  is  at  any  time  enveloped, 
is  the  work  of  its  antagonist,  and  never  of  itself. 

Religion,  therefore,  being  the  belief  of  a  God,  and  the 
practice  of  moral  truth,  cannot  have  connection  with  mys- 
tery. The  belief  of  a  God,  so  far  from  having  anything  of 
mystery  in  it  is  of  all  beliefs  the  most  easy,  because  it  arises 
to  us,  as  is  before  observed,  out  of  necessity.  And  the 
practice  of  moral  truth,  or,  in  other  words,  a  practical  imita- 


50  THB   AGE   Or   &KA80N.  [PABT  L, 

tion  of  the  moral  goodness  of  God,  is  no  other  than  our 
acting  toward  each  other  as  he  acts  benignly  toward  alL 
We  cannot  serve  God  in  the  manner  we  serve  those  who 
cannot  do  without  such  service;  and,  therefore,  the  only  idea 
we  can  have  of  serving  God,  is  that  of  contributing  to  the 
happiness  of  the  living  creation  that  God  has  made.  This 
cannot  be  done  by  retiring  ourselves  from  the  society  of  the 
world,  and  spending  a  recluse  life  in  selfish  devotion. 

The  very  nature  and  design  of  religion,  if  I  may  so  ex- 
press it,  prove  even  to  demonstration,  that  it  must  be  free 
from  every  thing  of  mystery,  and  unincumbered  with  every- 
thing that  is  mysterious.  Keligion,  considered  as  a  duty,  is 
incumbent  upon  every  living  soul  alike,  and,  therefore, 
must  be  on  a  level  to  the  understanding  and  comprehension 
of  all.  Man  does  not  learn  religion  as  he  learns  the  secrets 
and  mysteries  of  a  trade.  He  learns  the  theory  of  religion 
by  reflection.  .  It  arises  out  of  the  action  of  his  own  mind 
upon  the  things  which  he  sees,  or  upon  what  he  may 
happen  to  hear  or  to  read,  and  the  practice  joins  itself 
thereto. 

When  men,  whether  from  policy  or  pious  fraud,  set  up 
systems  of  religion  incompatible  with  the  word  or  works  of 
God  in  the  creation,  and  not  only  above,  but  repugnant  to 
human  comprehension,  they  were  under  the  necessity  of 
inventing  or  adopting  a  word  that  should  serve  as  a  bar  to  all 
questions,  inquiries  and  speculations.  The  word  mystery 
answered  this  purpose;  and  thus  it  has  happened  that  reli- 
gion, which  is  in  itself  without  mystery,  has  been  corrupted 
into  a  fog  of  mysteries. 

As  mystery  answered  all  general  purposes,  miracle  followed 
as  an  occasional  auxiliary.  The  former  served  to  bewilder 
the  mind;  the  latter  to  puzzle  the  senses.  The  one  was  the 
lingo,  the  other  the  legerdemain. 

But  before  going  further  into  this  subject,  it  will  be  proper 
to  inquire  what  is  to  be  understood  by  a  miracle. 

In  the  same  sense  that  everything  may  be  said  to  be  a 
mystery,  so  also  may  it  be  said  that  everything  is  a  miracle, 
and  that  no  one  thing  is  a  greater  miracle  than  another. 
The  elephant,  though  larger,  is  not  a  greater  miracle  than  a 
mite;  nor  a  mountain  a  greater  miracle  than  an  atom.  To 
an  almighty  power,  it  is  no  more  difficult  to  make  the  one 
tfr^n  the  other;  and  no  more  difficult  to  make  a  million  of 


PAST  I.]  THE   AGE    OF    REASON.  61 

worlds  than  to  make  one.  Everything,  therefore,  is  a  miracle 
in  one  sense,  whilst  in  the  other  sense,  there  is  no  such  thing 
as  a  miracle.  It  is  a  miracle  when  compared  to  our  power, 
and  to  our  comprehension;  it  is  not  a  miracle  compared  to 
the  power  that  performs  it;  but  as  nothing  in  this  descrin- 
tion  conveys  the  idea  that  is  affixed  to  the  word  miracle,  it  is 
necessary  to  cany  the  inquiry  further. 

Mankind  have  conceived  to  themselves  certain  laws,  by 
which  what  they  call  nature  is  supposed  to  act,  and  that  a 
miracle  is  something  contrary  to  the  operation  and  effect  of 
those  laws,  but  unless  we  know  the  whole  extent  of  those 
laws,  and  of  what  are  commonly  called  the  powers  of  nature, 
we  are  not  able  to  judge  whether  anything  that  may  appear 
to  us  wonderful  or  miraculous,  be  within,  or  be  beyond,  or  be 
contrary  to,  her  natural  power  of  acting. 

The  ascension  of  a  man  several  miles  high  into  the  air, 
would  have  everything  in  it  that  constitutes  the  idea  of  a 
miracle,  if  it  were  not  known  that  a  species  of  air  can  be 
generated  several  times  lighter  than  the  common  atmospheric 
air,  and  yet  possess  elasticity  enough  to  prevent  the  balloon, 
in  which  that  light  air  is  enclosed,  from  being  compressed 
into  as  many  times  less  bulk,  by  the  common  air  that  sur- 
rounds it.  In  like  manner,  extracting  flames  or  sparks  of  fire 
from  the  human  body,  as  visible  as  from  a  steel  struck  with  a 
flint,  and  causing  iron  or  steel  to  move  without  any  visible 
agent,  would  also  give  the  idea  of  a  miracle,  if  we  were  not 
acquainted  with  electricity  and  magnetism;  so  also  would 
many  other  experiments  in  natural  philosophy,  to  those  who 
are  not  acquainted  with  the  subject.  The  restoring  persona 
to  life,  who  are  to  appearance  dead,  as  is  practiced  upon 
drowned  persons,  would  also  be  a  miracle,  if  it  were  not 
known  that  animation  is  capable  of  being  suspended  without 
being  extinct. 

Besides  these,  there  are  performances  by  slight-of-hand, 
and  by  persons  acting  in  concert,  that  have  a  miraculous 
appearance,  which,  when  known,  are  thought  nothing  of. 
And,  besides  these,  there  are  mechanical  and  optical  decep- 
tions. There  is  now  an  exhibition  in  Paris  of  ghosts  or 
spectres,  which,  though  it  is  not  imposed  upon  the  spectators 
as  a  fact,  has  an  astonishing  appearance.  As,  therefore,  we 
know  not  the  extent  to  which  either  nature  or  art  can  go, 
there  is  no  criterion  to  determine  what  a  miracle  is;  an^ 


52  THE  AGB  or  KEASOH.  [PARTI. 

mankind,  in  giving  credit  to  appearance,  under  the  idea 
of  there  being  miracles,  are  subject  to  be  continually  imposed 
upon. 

Since  then  appearances  are  so  capable  of  deceiving,  and 
things  not  real  have  a  strong  resemblance  to  things  that  are, 
nothing  can  be  more  inconsistent  than  to  suppose  that  the 
Almighty  would  make  use  of  means,  such  as  are  called 
miracles,  that  would  subject  the  person  who  performed  them 
to  the  suspicion  of  being  an  imposter,  and  the  person  who 
related  them  to  be  suspected  of  lying,  and  the  doctrine 
intended  to  be  supported  thereby  to  be  suspected  as  a 
fabulous  invention. 

Of  all  the  modes  of  evidence  that  ever  were  intended  to 
obtain  belief  to  any  system  or  opinion  to  which  the  name  of 
religion  has  been  given,  that  of  miracle,  however  successful 
the  imposition  may  have  been,  is  the  most  inconsistent. 
For,  in  the  first  place,  whenever  recourse  is  had  to  show, 
for  the  purpose  of  procuring  that  belief,  (for  a  miracle, 
under  any  idea  of  the  word,  is  a  show,)  it  implies  a  lame- 
ness or  wickedness  in  the  doctrine  that  is  preached.  And, 
in  the  second  place,  it  is  degrading  the  Almighty  into  the 
character  of  a  showman,  playing  tricks  to  amuse  and  make 
the  people  stare  and  wonder.  It  is  also  the  most  equivocal 
sort  of  evidence  that  can  be  set  up,  for  the  belief  is  not  to 
depend  upon  the  thing  called  a  miracle,  but  upon  the  credit 
of  the  reporter  who  says  that  he  saw  it ;  and,  therefore,  the 
thing,  were  it  true,  would  have  no  better  chance  of  being 
believed  than  if  it  were  a  lie. 

Suppose  I  were  to  say  that,  when  I  sat  down  to  write  this 
book,  a  hand  presented  itself  in  the  air,  took  up  the  pen  and 
wrote  every  word  that  is  herein  written  ;  would  anybody 
believe  me  ?  Certainly  they  would  not.  Would  they  be- 
lieve me  a  whit  the  more  if  the  thing  had  been  a  fact?  Cer- 
tainly they  would  not.  Since,  then,  a  real  miracle,  were  it 
to  happen,  would  be  subject  to  the  same  fate  as  the  false- 
hood, the  inconsistency  becomes  the  greater  of  supposing 
the  Almighty  would  make  use  of  means  that  would  not  an- 
swer the  purpose  for  which  they  were  intended,  even  if  they 
were  real. 

If  we  are  to  suppose  a  miracle  to  be  something  so  entirely 
out  of  the  course  of  what  is  called  nature  that  she  must  go 
out  of  that  course  to  accomplish  it,  and  we  see  an  account 


PART  I.J  THK   AOK   OF   BSASOH.  68 

given  of  such  miracle  by  the  person  who  said  he  saw  it, 
it  raises  a  question  in  the  mind  very  easily  decided,  which  ia, 
is  it  more  probable  that  nature  should  go  out  of  her  course, 
or  that  a  man  should  tell  a  lie?  We  have  never  seen,  in  our 
time,  nature  go  out  of  her  course  ;  but  we  have  good  reason 
to  believe  that  millions  of  lies  have  been  told  in  the  same 
time.  It  is,  therefore,  at  least  millions  to  one  that  the  re- 
porter of  a  miracle  tells  a  lie. 

The  story  of  the  whale  swallowing  Jonah,  though  a  whale 
is  large  enough  to  do  it,  borders  greatly  on  the  marvelous  ; 
but  it  would  have  approached  nearer  to  the  idea  of  miracle  if 
Jonah  had  swallowed  the  whale.  In  this,  which  may  serve 
for  all  cases  of  miracles,  the  matter  would  decide  itself,  as 
before  stated — namely,  is  it  more  probable  that  a  man  should 
have  swallowed  a  whale  or  told  a  lie? 

But  suppose  that  Jonah  had  really  swallowed  the  whale, 
and  gone  with  it  in  his  belly  to  Nineveh,  and,  to  convince 
the  people  th*t  it  was  true,  have  cast  it  up  in  their  sight,  of 
the  full  length  and  size  of  a  whale,  would  they  not  have 
believed  him  to  have  been  the  devil,  instead  of  a  prophet? 
or,  if  the  whaJe  had  carried  Jonah  to  Nineveh,  and  cast  him 
up  in  the  same  public  manner,  would  they  not  have  believed 
the  whale  to  have  been  the  devil,  and  Jonah  one  of  his 
imps? 

The  most  extraordinary  of  all  the  things  called  miracles 
related  in  the  New  Testament,  is  that  of  the  devil  flying 
away  with  Jesus  Christ,  and  carrying  him  to  the  top  of  a 
high  mountain,  Mid  to  the  top  of  the  highest  pinnacle  of  the 
temple,  and  showing  him  and  promising  to  him  all  the  king- 
doms of  the  world.  How  happened  it  that  he  did  not  dis- 
cover America?  or,  is  it  only  with  kingdoms  that  his  sooty 
highness  has  any  interest? 

I  have  too  much  respect  for  the  moral  character  of  Christ 
to  believe  that  he  told  this  whale  of  a  miracle  himself; 
neither  is  it  easy  to  account  for  what  purpose  it  could  have 
been  fabricated,  unless  it  were  to  impose  upon  the  connois- 
seurs of  miracles,  as  is  sometimes  practiced  upon  the  con- 
noisseurs of  Queen  Anne's  farthings,  and  collectors  of  relics 
and  antiquities;  or,  to  render  the  belief  of  miracles  ridicu- 
lous by  outdoing  miracles,  as  Don  Quixote  outdid  chivalry; 
or,  to  embarrass  the  belief  of  miracles,  by  making  it 
doubtful  by  what  power,  whether  of  God  or  the  devil,  any- 


64  TOT   AGB   OF   REASON.  [PART  L 

thing  called  a  miracle  was  performed.  It  requires,  how- 
ever, a  great  deal  of  faith  in  the  devil  to  believe  this 
miracle. 

In  every  point  of  view  in  which  those  things  called  mira- 
cles can  be  placed  and  considered,  the  reality  of  them  is 
improbable,  and  their  existence  unnecessary.  They  would 
not,  as  before  observed,  answer  any  useful  purpose,  even  if 
they  were  true,  for  it  is  more  difficult  to  obtain  belief  to  a 
miracle  than  to  a  principle  evidently  moral,  without  any 
miracle.  Moral  principle  speaks  universally  for  itself.  Mira- 
cle could  be  but  a  thing  of  the  moment,  and  seen  but  by  a 
few.  After  this,  it  requires  a  transfer  of  faith  from  God  to 
man  to  believe  a  miracle  upon  man's  report.  Instead, 
therefore,  of  admitting  the  recitals  of  miracles  as  evidence 
of  any  system  of  religion  being  true,  they  ought  to  be  con- 
sidered as  symptoms  of  its  being  fabulous.  It  is  necessary 
to  the  full  and  upright  character  of  truth  that  it  rejects  the 
crutch;  and  it  is  consistent  with  the  character  of  fable  to 
seek  the  aid  that  truth  rejects.  Thus  much  for  mystery  and 
miracle. 

As  mystery  and  miracle  took  charge  of  the  past  and  the 
present,  prophecy  took  charge  of  the  future,  and  rounded 
the  tenses  of  faith.  It  was  not  sufficient  to  know  what  had 
been  done,  but  what  would  be  done.  The  supposed  prophet 
was  the  supposed  historian  of  times  to  come;  and  if  he 
happened  in  shooting  with  a  long  bow  of  a  thousand  years, 
to  strike  within  a  thousand  miles  of  a  mark,  the  ingenuity 
of  posterity  could  make  it  point  blank;  and  if  he  happened 
to  be  directly  wrong,  it  was  only  to  suppose,  as  in  the  case 
of  Jonah  and  Nineveh,  that  God  had  repented  himself  and 
changed  his  mind.  What  a  fool  do  fabulous  systems  make 
of  man! 

It  has  been  shown,  in  a  former  part  of  this  work,  that 
the  original  meaning  of  the  words  prophet  and  prophesying 
has  been  changed,  and  that  a  prophet,  in  the  sense  of  the 
word  as  now  used,  is  a  creature  of  modern  invention;  and 
it  is  owing  to  this  change  in  the  meaning  of  the  words,  that 
the  flights  and  metaphors  of  the  Jewish  poets,  and  phrases 
and  expressions  now  rendered  obscure  by  our  not  being 
acquainted  with  the  local  circumstances  to  which  they  ap- 
plied at  the  time  they  were  used,  have  been  erected  into 
prophecies,  and  made  to  bend  to  explanations,  at  the  will 


PA£T  L]  THX  AOK  OF  REASON-  56 

and  whimsical  conceits  of  sectaries,  expounders  and  com- 
mentators. Everything  unintelligible  was  prophetical,  and 
everything  insignificant  was  typical.  A  blunder  would  have 
served  as  a  prophecy,  and  'a  dish-clout  for  a  type. 

If  by  a  prophet  we  are  to  suppose  a  man  to  whom  the 
Almighty  communicated  some  event  that  would  take  place 
in  future,  either  there  were  such  men,  or  there  were  not. 
If  there  were,  it  is  consistent  to  believe  that  the  event  so 
communicated  would  be  told  in  terms  that  could  be  under- 
stood, and  not  related  in  such  a  loose  and  obscure  manner 
as  to  be  out  of  the  comprehensions  of  those  that  heard  it, 
and  so  equivocal  as  to  fit  almost  any  circumstance  that 
might  happen  afterwards.  It  is  conceiving  very  irrever- 
ently of  the  Almighty  to  suppose  be  would  deal  in  this 
jesting  manner  with  mankind;  yet  all  the  things  called 
prophecies  in  the  book  called  the  Bible  come  under  this 
description. 

But  it  is  with  prophecy  as  it  is  with  miracle:  it  could  not 
answer  the  purpose,  even  if  it  were  real.  Those  to  whom  a 
prophecy  should  be  told  could  not  tell  whether  the  man 
prophesied  or  lied,  or  whether  it  had  been  revealed  to  him, 
or  whether  he  conceited  it;  and,  if  the  thing  that  he  prophe- 
sied, or  intended  to  prophesy,  should  happen,  or  something 
like  it,  among  the  multitude  of  things  that  are  daily  hap- 
pening, nobody  could  again  know  whether  he  foreknew  it  or 
guessed  at  it,  or  whether  it  was  accidental.  A  prophet,  there- 
fore, is  a  character  useless  and  unnecessary;  and  the  safe  side 
of  the  case  is  to  guard  against  being  imposed  upon,  by  not 
giving  credit  to  such  relations. 

Upon  the  whole,  mystery,  miracle  and  prophecy  are  ap- 
pendages that  belong  to  fabulous,  and  not  to  true  religion. 
They  are  the  means  by  which  so  many  Lo  heresl  and  Lo 
theres  1  have  been  spread  about  the  world,  and  religion 
been  made  into  a  trade.  The  success  of  one  imposter  gave 
encouragement  to  another,  and  the  quieting  salvo  of  doing 
some  good  by  keeping  up  a  pious  fraud  protected  them  from 
remorse. 

Having  now  extended  the  subject  to  a  greater  length  than 
I  first  intended,  I  shall  bring  it  to  a  close  by  abstracting  a 
summary  from  the  whole. 

First — That  the  idea  or  belief  of  a  word  of  God  existing 
in  print,  or  in  writing,  or  in  speech,  is  inconsistent  in  inself, 


50  THE    AOK   OF    KKA8OW.  [PAJH  L. 

for  reasons  already  assigned.  These  reasons,  among  many 
others,  are  the  want  of  an  universal  language;  the  mutability 
of  language;  the  errors  to  which  translations  are  subject; 
the  possibility  of  totally  suppressing  such  a  word;  the  prob- 
ability of  altering  it,  or  of  fabricatrng  the  whole,  and  impos- 
ing it  upon  the  world. 

Secondly — That  the  Creation  we  behold  is  the  real  and 
ever-existing  word  of  God,  in  which  we  cannot  be  deceived. 
It  proclaims  his  power,  it  demonstrates  his  wisdom,  it  mani- 
fests his  goodness  and  beneficence. 

Thirdly — That  the  moral  duty  of  man  consists  in  imitat- 
ing the  moral  goodness  and  beneficence  of  God  manifested 
in  the  creation  towards  all  his  creatures;  that,  seeing,  as  we 
daily  do,  the  goodness  of  God  to  all  men,  it  is  an  example 
calling  upon  all  men  to  practice  the  same  towards  each  other; 
and,  consequently,  that  everything  of  persecution  and  revenge 
between  man  and  man,  and  everything  of  cruelty  to  animals, 
is  a  violation  of  moral  duty. 

I  trouble  not  myself  about  the  manner  of  future  exist- 
ence. I  content  myself  with  believing,  even  to  positive  con- 
viction, that  the  power  that  gave  me  existence  is  able  to 
continue  it,  in  any  form  and  manner  he  pleases,  either  with 
or  without  this  body;  and  it  appears  more  probable  to 
me  that  I  shall  continue  to  exist  hereafter  than  that  I 
should  have  had  existence,  as  I  now  have,  before  that  exist- 
ence began. 

It  is  certain  that,  in  one  point,  all  nations  of  the  earth  and 
all  religions  agree:  all  belie  vein  a  God.  The  things  in  which 
they  disagree  are  the  redundancies  annexed  to  that  belief; 
and,  therefore,  if  ever  a  universal  religion  should  prevail,  it 
will  not  be  believing  anything  new,  but  in  getting  rid  of  re- 
dundancies, and  believing  as  man  believed  at  first.  Adam, 
if  ever  there  was  such  a  man,  was  created  a  Deist ;  but,  in 
the  meantime,  let  every  man  follow,  as  he  has  a  right  to  do, 
the  religion  and  the  worship  he  prefers. 


PREFACE. 


I  hare  mentioned  in  the  former  part  of  The  Age  of  Rea- 
son, that  it  had  long  been  my  intention  to  publish  my 
thoughts  upon  religion  ;  but  that  I  had  originally  reserved 
it  to  a  later  period  in  life,  intending  it  to  be  the  last  work 
I  should  undertake.  The  circumstances,  however,  which 
existed  in  France  in  the  later  end  of  the  year  1793,  deter- 
mined me  to  delay  it  no  longer.  The  just  and  humane  prin- 
ciples of  the  revolution  which  philosophy  had  first  diffused, 
had  been  departed  from.  The  idea,  always  dangerous  to 
society  as  it  is  derogatory  to  the  Almighty,  that  priests  could 
forgive  sins,  though  it  seemed  to  exist  no  longer,  had  blunted 
the  feelings  of  humanity,  and  prepared  men  for  the  commis- 
sion of  all  manner  of  crimes.  The  intolerant  spirit  of  church 
persecutions  had  transferred  itself  into  politics;  the  tribunal, 
styled  revolutionary,  supplied  the  place  of  an  inquisition; 
and  the  guillotine  and  the  stake  outdid  the  fire  and  the  fag- 
got of  the  church.  I  saw  many  of  my  most  intimate  frienoa 
destroyed ;  others  daily  carried  to  prison;  and  I  had  reason 
to  believe,  and  had  also  intimations  given  me,  that  the  same 
danger  was  approaching  myself. 

Under  these  disadvantages,  I  began  the  former  part  of 
the  Age  of  Reason;  I  had,  besides,  neither  Bible  nor  Testa- 
ment to  refer  to,  though  I  was  writing  against  both;  nor 
could  I  procure  any;  notwithstanding  which  I  have  produced 
a  work  that  no  Bible-believer,  though  writing  at  his  ease, 
and  with  a  library  of  church  books  about  him,  can  refute. 
Towards  the  latter  end  of  December  of  that  year,  a  motion 
was  made  and  carried,  to  exclude  foreigners  from  the  con- 
vention. There  were  but  two  in  it,  Anacharsis  Cloots  and 
myself ;  and  I  saw  I  was  particularly  pointed  at  by  Bourdon 
de  1'Oise,  in  his  speech  on  that  motion. 

Conceiving,  after  this,  that  I  had  but  a  few  days  of  lib 
•  T 


48  PKXFAOX. 

erty,  I  sat  down  and  brought  the  work  to  a  close  as  speedily 
*s  possible;  and  I  had  not  finished  it  more  than  six  hours, 
in  the  state  it  has  since  appeared,  before  a  guard  came  there 
about  three  in  the  morning,  with  an  order  signed  by  the  two 
committees  of  public  safety  and  Surety-General,  for  putting 
me  in  arrestation  as  a  foreigner,  and  conveyed  me  to  the 
prison  of  the  Luxembourg.  I  contrived,  in  my  way  there, 
to  call  on  Joel  Barlow,  and  I  put  the  manuscript  of  the 
work  into  his  hands,  as  more  safe  than  in  my  possession  in 
prison  ;  and  not  knowing  what  might  be  the  fate  in  France 
either  of  the  writer  or  the  work,  I  addressed  it  to  the  protec- 
tion of  the  citizens  of  the  United  States. 

It  is  with  justice  that  I  say  that  the  guard  who  executed 
this  order,  and  the  interpreter  of  the  Committee  of  General 
Surety,  who  accompanied  them  to  examine  my  papers,  treated 
me  not  only  with  civility,  but  with  respect.  The  keeper  of 
the  Luxembourg,  Bennoit,  a  man  of  good  heart,  showed  to 
me  every  frienrtsnip  in  his  power,  as  did  also  his  family,  while 
he  continued  in  that  station.  He  was  removed  from  it,  put 
into  arrestation  and  carried  before  the  tribunal  upon  a  ma- 
lignant accusation,  but  acquitted. 

After  I  had  been  in  the  Luxembourg  about  three  weeks,  the 
Americans,  then  in  Paris,  went  in  a  body  to  the  convention, 
to  reclaim  me  as  thp.ir  countryman  and  friend  ;  but  were 
answered  by  the  President,  Vader,  who  was  also  President 
of  the  Committee  of  Surety-General,  and  had  signed  the 
order  for  my  arrestation,  that  I  was  born  in  England.  I  heard 
no  more,  after  this,  from  any  person  out  of  the  walls  of  the 
prison,  till  the  fall  of  Robespierre,  on  the  9th  of  Thermidor 
-July  27, 1794. 

About  two  months  before  this  event,  I  was  seized  with  a 
fever,  that  in  its  progress  had  every  symptom  of  becoming 
mortal,  and  from  the  effects  of  which  I  am  not  recovered. 
It  was  then  that  I  remembered  with  renewed  satisfaction, 
and  congratulated  mvself  most  sincerely  on  having  written 
the  former  part  of  %Jhe  Age  of  Reason.  I  had  then  but 
little  expectation  of  surviving,  and  those  about  me  had  leas. 
I  know,  therefore,  by  experience,  the  conscientious  trial  of 
toy  own  principles. 

I  was  then  with  three  chamber  comrades,  Joseph  Van- 
beule,  of  Bruges,  Charles  Bastini,  and  Michael  Rubyns,  of 
Louvain.  The  unceasing  and  anxious  attention  of  these 


PBX7AOB.  69 

three  friends  to  me  by  night  and  by  day,  I  remember 
with  gratitude,  and  mention  with  pleasure.  It  happened 
that  a  physician  (Dr.  Graham)  and  a  surgeon,  (Mr.  Bond,) 
part  of  the  suite  of  General  O'Hara,  were  then  in  the  Lux- 
embourg. I  ask  not  myself,  whether  it  be  convenient  to 
them,  as  men  under  the  English  government,  That  I  express 
to  them  my  thanks;  but  I  should  reproach  myself  if  I  did 
not;  and  also  to  the  physician  of  the  Luxembourg,  Dr. 
Markoski. 

I  have  some  reason  to  believe,  because  I  cannot  discover 
any  other  cause,  that  this  illness  preserved  me  in  existence. 
Among  the  papers  of  Robespierre  that  were  examined  and 
reported  upon  to  the  Convention,  by  a  Committee  of  Depu- 
ties, is  a  note  in  the  hand-writing  of  Robespierre,  in  the 
following  words: 

"Demander  qne    Thomas    Paine  solt       To  demand  that  a  decree  of  accnaa- 
decrete  d'accnsation,  poor   1'lnteret   da    tlon  be  passed  against  Thomas  Paina 
1' Amerique  autant  qne  de  la  France."          for  the  interest  of  America,  aa  well  aa 
of  France. 

From  what  cause  it  was  that  the  intention  was  not  put  in 
execution,  I  know  not  and  cannot  inform  myself;  and 
therefore  I  ascribe  it  to  impossibility,  on  account  of  that 
illness. 

The  Convention,  to  repair  as  much  as  lay  in  their  power 
the  injustice  I  had  sustained,  invited  me  publicly  and  unani- 
mously to  return  into  the  Convention,  and  which  I  accepted, 
to  show  that  I  could  bear  an  injury  without  permitting  it  to 
injure  my  principles  or  my  disposition.  It  is  not  because 
right  principles  have  been  violated,  that  they  are  to  be 
abandoned. 

1  have  seen,  since  I  have  been  at  liberty,  several  publica- 
tions written,  some  in  America,  and  some  in  England,  as 
answers  to  the  former  part  of  "  The  Age  of  Reason."  If  the 
authors  of  these  can  amuse  themselves  by  so  doing,  I  shall 
not  interrupt  them.  They  may  write  against  the  work,  and 
against  me,  as  much  as  they  please;  they  do  me  more  service 
than  they  intend,  and  I  can  have  no  objection  that  they  write 
on.  They  will  find,  however,  by  this  second  part,  without 
its  being  written  as  an  answer  to  them,  that  they  must  return 
to  their  work,  and  spin  their  cobweb  over  again.  The  first 
ia  brushed  away  by  accident. 

They  will  now  find  that  I  have  furnished  myself  with  a 
Bible  and  a  Testament;  and  I  can  say  also  that  1  have  found 


60 

them  to  be  much  worse  books  than  I  had  conceived.  If  1 
have  erred  in  anything,  in  the  former  part  of  u  The  Age  of 
Reason,"  it  has  been  by  speaking  better  of  some  parts  of 
those  books  than  they  have  deserved. 

I  observe  that  all  my  opponents  resort,  more  or  less,  to 
what  they  call  Scripture  Evidence  and  Bible  authority,  to 
help  them  out.  They  are  so  little  masters  of  the  subject,  as  to 
confound  a  dispute  about  authenticity  with  a  dispute  about 
doctrines;  I  will,  however,  put  them  right,  that  if  they 
should  be  disposed  to  write  any  more,  they  may  know  how 
to  begin. 

THOMAS  PA  INK. 


THE  AGE  OF  REASON. 


PART  SECOND. 

It  has  often  been  said,  that  anything  may  be  proved  from 
the  Bible,  but  before  anything  oan  be  admitted  as  proved 
by  the  Bible,  the  Bible  itself  must  be  proved  to  be  true  ; 
for  if  the  Bible  be  not  true,  or  the  truth  of  it  be  doubtful, 
it  ceases  to  have  authority,  and  cannot  be  admitted  as  proof 
of  anything. 

It  has  been  the  practice  of  all  Christian  commentators  on 
the  Bible,  and  of  all  Christian  priests  and  preachers,  to 
impose  the  Bible  on  the  world  as  a  mass  of  truth,  and  as  the 
word  of  God  ;  they  have  disputed  and  wrangled  and  anathe- 
matized each  other  about  the  supposable  meaning  of  particu- 
lar parts  and  passages  therein  ;  one  has  said  and  insisted 
that  such  a  passage  meant  such  a  thing  ;  another  that  it 
meant  directly  the  contrary  ;  and  a  third,  that  it  means 
neither  one  nor  the  other,  but  something  different  from 
both  ;  and  this  they  call  understanding  the  Bible. 

It  has  happened,  that  all  the  answers  which  I  have  seen 
to  the  former  part  of  the  Age  of  Reason  have  been  written 
by  priests  ;  and  these  pious  men  like  their  predecessors, 
contend  and  wrangle,  and  pretend  to  understand  the  Bible; 
each  understands  it  differently,  but  each  understands  it  best; 
and  they  have  agreed  in  nothing,  but  in  telling  their  readers 
that  Thomas  Paine  understands  it  not. 

Now  instead  of  wasting  their  time,  and  heating  themselves 
in  fractious  disputations  about  doctrinal  points  drawn  from 
the  Bible,  these  men  ought  to  know,  and  if  they  do  not,  it  i» 
civility  to  inform  them,  that  the  first  thing  to  be  understood 
is,  whether  there  is  sufficient  authority  for  believing  the 
Bible  to  be  the  word  of  God,  or  whether  there  is  not. 

There  are  matters  in  that  book,  said  to  be  done  by  the 
•1 


69  THE   A.GB   07   BRASON.  [FAST  IX. 

express  command  of  God,  that  are  aa  shocking  to  humanity, 
and  to  every  idea  we  have  of  moral  justice,  as  anything 
done  by  Robespierre,  by  Carrier,  by  Joseph  le  Bon,  in 
France,  by  the  English  government  in  the  East  Indies,  or 
by  any  other  assassin  in  modern  times.  When  we  read  in  the 
books  ascribed  to  Moses,  Joshua,  etc.,  that  they  (the  Israel- 
ites) came  by  stealth  upon  whole  nations  of  people,  who, 
as  the  history  itself  shows,  had  given  them  no  offense  ;  that 
they  put  all  those  nations  to  the  sword;  that  they  spared 
neither  age  nor  infancy  ;  that  thqj  utterly  destroyed  men, 
women  and  children ;  that  they  left  not  a  soul  to  breathe; 
expressions  that  are  repeated  over  and  over  again  in  those 
books,  and  that  too  with  exulting  ferocity  ;  are  we  sure 
these  things  are  facts?  Are  we  sure  that  the  Creator  of 
man  commissioned  these  things  to  be  done?  Are  we  sure 
that  the  books  that  tell  us  so  were  written  by  his  authority? 

It  is  not  the  antiquity  of  a  tale  that  is  any  evidence  of  its 
truth  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  a  symptom  of  its  being  fabu- 
lous ;  for  the  more  ancient  any  history  pretends  to  be,  the 
more  it  has  the  resemblance  of  a  fable.  The  origin  of  every 
nation  is  buried  in  fabulous  tradition,  and  that  of  the  Jews 
is  as  much  to  be  suspected  as  any  other.  To  charge  the 
commission  of  acts  upon  the  Almighty,  which  in  their  own 
nature,  and  by  every  rule  of  moral  justice,  are  crimes  as  all 
assassination  is,  and  more  especially  the  assassination  of 
infants,  is  matter  of  serious  concern.  The  Bible  tells  us, 
that  those  assassinations  were  done  by  the  exprest  command 
of  God.  To  believe,  therefore,  the  Bible  to  be  true,  we  must 
unbelieve  all  our  belief  in  the  moral  justice  of  God  ;  for 
wherein  could  crying  or  smiling  infants  offend?  And 
to  read  the  Bible  without  horror,  we  must  undo  everything 
that  is  tender,  sympathizing,  and  benevolent  in  the  heart  of 
man.  Speaking  for  myself,  if  I  had  no  other  evidence  that 
the  Bible  was  fabulous,  than  the  sacrifice  I  must  make  to 
believe  it  to  be  true,  that  alone  would  be  sufficient  to  deter- 
mine my  choice. 

But  in  addition  to  all  the  moral  evidence  against  the 
Bible,  I  will  in  the  progress  of  this  work  produce  such  oth- 
er evidence,  as  even  a  priest  cannot  deny  ;  and  show,  from 
that  evidence,  that  the  Bible  is  not  entitled  to  credit,  as 
being  the  word  of  God. 

But,  before  I  proceed  to  this  examination,  I  will  show 


PART  n.]  THE   AGE   OF    REASON.  63 

wherein  the  Bible  differs  from  all  other  ancient  writings 
with  respect  to  the  nature  of  the  evidence  necessary  to 
establish  its  authenticity  ;  and  this  is  more  proper  to  be 
done,  because  the  advocates  of  the  Bible,  in  their  answers 
to  the  former  part  of  the  Age  of  Reason,  undertake  to  say, 
and  they  put  some  stress  thereon,  that  the  authenticity  of 
the  Bible  is  as  well  established  as  that  of  any  other  ancient 
book  ;  as  if  our  belief  of  the  one  could  become  any  rule  for 
our  belief  of  the  other. 

I  know,  however,  but  of  one  ancient  book  that  authorita- 
tively challenges  universal  consent  and  belief,  and  that  is 
Euclid's  Elements  of  Geometry;*  and  the  reason  is,  because 
it  is  a  book  of  self-evident  demonstration,  entirely  indepen- 
dent of  its  author,  and  of  everything  relating  to  time,  place 
and  circumstance.  The  matters  contained  in  that  book 
would  have  the  same  authority  they  now  have,  had  they 
been  written  by  any  other  person,  or  had  the  work  been 
anonymous,  or  had  the  author  never  been  known  ;  for  the 
identical  certainty  of  who  was  the  author,  makes  no  part  of 
our  belief  of  the  matters  contained  in  the  book.  But  it  is 
quite  otherwise  with  respect  to  books  ascribed  to  Moses,  to 
Joshua,  to  Samuel,  &c.  Those  are  books  of  testimony,  and 
they  testify  of  things  naturally  incredible  ;  and,  therefore, 
the  whole  of  our  belief,  as  to  the  authenticity  of  those 
books,  rests,  in  the  first  place,  upon  the  certainty  that  they 
were  written  by  Moses,  Joshua,  and  Samuel ;  secondly, 
upon  the  credit  we  give  to  their  testimony.  We  may  believe 
the  first,  that  is,  we  may  believe  the  certainty  of  the  author- 
ship, and  yet  not  the  testimony,  in  the  same  manner  that  we 
may  believe  that  a  certain  person  gave  evidence  upon  a 
case  and  yet  not  believe  the  evidence  that  he  gave.  But  ii 
it  should  be  found,  that  the  books  ascribed  to  Moses, 
Joshua,  and  Samuel,  were  not  written  by  Moses,  Joshua, 
and  Samuel,  every  part  of  the  authority  and  authenticity 
of  those  books  is  gone  at  once  ;  for  there  can  be  no  such 
thing  as  forged  or  invented  testimony ;  neither  can  there  be 
anonymous  testimony,  more  especially  as  to  things  nat- 
urally incredible,  such  as  that  of  talking  with  God  face  to 
face,  or  that  of  the  sun  and  moon  standing  still  at  the 

•  Euclid,  according  to  chronological  history,  lived  three  hundred  yean  before 
Christ,  and  about  one  hundred  before  Archimede*;  he  wu  of  the  city  of  Alexan- 
dria, in  Egypt. 


64  THE    AGE    OF    REASON.  [PAKT  1L 

command  of  a  man.  The  greater  part  of  the  other 
ancient  books  are  works  of  genius  ;  of  which  kind  are  those 
ascribed  to  Homer,  to  Plato,  to  Aristotle,  to  Demosthenes, 
to  Cicero,  &c.  Here  again  the  author  is  not  essential  in 
the  credit  we  give  to  any  of  those  works  ;  for,  as  works  of 
genius,  they  would  have  the  same  merit  they  have  now, 
were  they  anonymous.  Nobody  believes  the  Trojan  story, 
as  related  by  Homer,  to  be  true,  for  it  is  the  poet  only  that 
is  admired  ;  and  the  merit  of  the  poet  will  remain,  though 
the  story  be  fabulous.  But,  if  we  disbelieve  the  matters 
related  by  the  Bible  authors,  (Moses  for  instance,)  as  we  dis- 
believe the  things  related  by  Homer,  there  remains  nothing 
of  Moses,  in  our  estimation,  but  an  imposter.  As  to  the 
ancient  historians,  from  Herodotus  to  Tacitus,  we  credit 
them  as  far  as  they  relate  things  probable  and  credible,  and 
no  further  ;  for,  if  we  do,  we  must  believe  the  two  miracles 
which  Tacitus  relates  were  performed  by  Vespasian — that 
of  curing  a  lame  man,  and  a  blind  man,  in  just  the  same 
manner  as  the  same  things  are  told  of  Jesus  Christ  by  his 
historians.  We  must  also  believe  the  miracles  cited  by 
Josephus — that  of  the  sea  of  Pamphilia  opening  to  let 
Alexander  arid  his  army  pass,  as  is  related  of  the  Red  Sea 
:n  Exodus.  These  miracles  are  quite  as  well  authenticated 
AS  the  Bible  miracles,  and  yet  we  do  not  believe  them  ;  con- 
sequently the  degree  of  evidence  necessary  to  establish  our 
belief  of  things  naturally  incredible,  whether  'n  the  Bible 
or  elsewhere,  is  far  greater  than  that  which  obtains  our 
belief  to  natural  and  probable  things  ;  and,  therefore,  the 
advocates  for  the  Bible  have  no  claim  to  our  belief  of  the 
Bible,  because  that  we  believe  things  stated  in  other  ancient 
writings;  since  we  believe  the  things  stated  in  these  writings 
no  further  than  they  are  probable  and  credible,  or  because 
they  are  self-evident,  like  Euclid  ;  or  admire  them  because 
they  are  elegant,  like  Homer  ;  or  approve  them  because 
they  are  sedate,  like  Plato  ;  or  judicious,  like  Aristotle. 

Having  premised  these  things,  I  proceed  to  examine  the 
authenticity  of  the  Bible,  and  I  begin  with  what  are  called 
the  five  books  of  Moses,  Genesis,  Exodus,  Leviticus,  Num- 
bers, and  Deuteronomy.  My  intention  is  to  show  that  those 
books  are  spurious,  and  that  Moses  is  not  the  author  of 
them  ;  and  still  further,  that  they  were  not  written  in  the 
time  of  Mosea,  nor  till  several  hundred  years  afterwards  ; 


TAJCT  II.]  THE   AGE    OF    REASON.  65 

that  they  are  no  other  than  an  attempted  history  of  the 
life  of  Moses,  and  of  the  times  in  which  he  is  said  to  have 
lived,  arid  also  of  the  times  prior  thereto,  written  by  some 
very  ignorant  and  stupid  pretenders  to  authorship,  several 
hundred  years  after  the  death  of  Moses,  as  men  now  write 
histories  of  things  that  happened,  or  are  supposed  to  have 
happened,  several  hundred  or  several  thousand  years  ago. 

The  evidence  that  I  shall  produce  in  this  case  is  from  the 
books  themselves,  and  I  will  confine  myself  to  this  evidence 
only.  Were  I  to  refer  for  proof  to  any  of  the  ancient 
authors  whom  the  advocates  of  the  Bible  call  profane  authors, 
they  would  controvert  that  authority  as  I  controvert  theirs; 
I  will,  therefore,  meet  them  on  their  own  ground,  and  oppose 
them  with  their  own  weapon,  the  Bible. 

In  the  first  place,  there  is  no  affirmative  evidence  that 
Moses  is  the  author  of  those  books;  and  that  he  is  the  author 
is  altogether  an  unfounded  opinion,  got  abroad  nobody  knows 
how.  The  style  and  manner  in  which  those  books  are  writ- 
ten give  no  room  to  believe,  or  even  to  suppose,  they  were 
written  by  Moses;  for  it  is  altogether  the  style  and  manner 
of  another  person  speaking  of  Moses.  In  Exodus,  Leviti- 
cus and  Numbers,  (for  everything  in  Genesis  is  prior  to  the 
times  of  Moses,  and  not  the  least'  allusion  is  made  to  him 
therein,)  the  whole,  I  say,  of  these  books  is  in  the  third  per- 
son; it  is  always,  t,he  Lord  said  unto  Moses,  or  Moses  said 
unto  the  Lord;  or  Moses  said  unto  the  people,  or  the  peoplt 
said  unto  Moses;  and  this  is  the  style  and  manner  that  his- 
torians use  in  speaking  of  the  person  whose  lives  and  actions 
they  are  writing.  It  may  be  said  that  a  man  may  speak  of 
himself  in  the  third  person,  and,  therefore,  it  may  be  sup- 
posed that  Moses  did;  but  supposition  proves  nothing,  and, 
if  the  advocates  for  the  belief  that  Moses  wrote  those  books 
himself  have  nothing  better  to  advance  than  supposition, 
they  may  as  well  be  silent. 

But,  granting  the  grammatical  right  that  Moses  might 
speak  of  himself  in  the  third  person,  because  any  man  might 
speak  of  himself  in  that  manner,  it  cannot  be  admitted  as  a 
fact  in  those  books  that  it  is  Moses  who  speaks  without  ren- 
dering Moses  truly  ridiculous  and  absurd.  For  example, 
Numbers,  chap,  xii.,  ver.  3:  "  Now  the  man  Moses  was  very 
meek,  above  all  men  which  were  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 
If  Moses  said  this  of  himself,  instead  of  being  the  meekest 


66  THE    AGE   OF   BEASON.  [PAXT  II. 

of  men  he  was  one  of  the  most  vain  and  arrogant  of  cox- 
combs; and  the  advocates  for  those  books  may  now  take 
which  side  they  please,  for  both  sides  are  against  them;  if 
Moses  was  not  the  author,  the  books  are  without  authority; 
and  if  he  was  the  author,  the  author  was  without  credit,  be- 
cause to  boast  of  meekness  is  the  reverse  of  meekness,  and  is 
a  lie  in  tentiment. 

In  Deuteronomy,  the  style  and  manner  of  writing  marks 
more  evidently  than  in  the  former  books  that  Moses  is  not 
the  writer.  The  manner  here  used  is  dramatical:  the  writer 
opens  the  subject  by  a  short  introductory  discourse,  and  then 
introduces  Moses  in  the  act  of  speaking,  and,  when  he  has 
made  Moses  finish  his  harangue,  he  (the  writer)  resumes  his 
own  part,  and  speaks  till  he  brings  Moses  forward  again,  and 
at  last  closes  the  scene  with  an  account  of  the  death,  funeral 
and  character  of  Moses. 

This  interchange  of  speakers  occurs  four  times  in  this 
book:  from  the  first  verse  of  the  first  chapter  to  the  end  of 
the  fifth  verse  it  is  the  writer  who  speaks;  he  then  introduces 
Moses  as  in  the  act  of  making  his  harangue,  and  this  con- 
tinues to  the  end  of  the  fortieth  verse  of  the  fourth  chapter; 
here  the  writer  drops  Moses,  and  speaks  historically  of  what 
was  done  in  consequence  of  what  Moses,  when  living,  is  sup- 
posed to  have  said,  and  which  the  writer  has  dramatically 
rehearsed. 

The  writer  opens  the  subject  again  hi  the  first  verse  of 
the  fifth  chapter,  though  it  is  only  by  saying  that  Moses 
called  the  people  of  Israel  together;  he  then  introduces 
Moses  as  before,  and  continues  him,  as  in  the  act  of  speak- 
ing, to  the  end  of  the  26th  chapter.  He  does  the  same 
thing  at  the  beginning  of  the  27th  chapter;  and  continues 
Moses,  as  in  the  act  of  speaking,  to  the  end  of  the  28th 
chapter.  At  the  29th  chapter  the  writer  speaks  again, 
through  the  whole  of  the  first  verse  and  the  first  line  of  the 
•econd  verse,  where  he  introduces  Moses  for  the  last  time, 
and  continues  him,  as  in  the  act  of  speaking,  to  the  end  of 
the  33d  chapter. 

The  writer  having  now  finished  the  rehearsal  on  the  part 
of  Moses,  comes  forward  and  speaks  through  the  whole  of 
the  last  chapter.  He  begins  by  telling  the  reader  that  Moses 
went  up  to  the  top  of  Pisgah;  that  he  saw  from  thence  the 
Und  which  (the  writer  says)  had  been  promised  to  Abraham, 


PABT  n.]  THE   AGE   OF   KEABOH.  67 

Isaac  and  Jacob;  that  he,  Moses,  died  there,  in  the  land  of 
Moab,  but  that  no  man  knoweth  of  his  sepulcher  unto  this 
day — that  is,  unto  the  time  in  which  the  writer  lived  who 
wrote  the  book  of  Deuteronomy.  The  writer  then  tells  us 
that  Moses  was  110  years  of  age  when  he  died;  that  his  eye 
was  not  dim,  nor  his  natural  force  abated;  and  he  concludes 
by  saying  that  there  arose  not  a  prophet  since  in  Israel  like 
unto  Moses,  whom,  says  this  anonymous  writer,  the  Lord 
knew  face  to  face. 

Having  thus  shown,  as  far  as  grammatical  evidence 
applies,  that  Moses  was  not  the  writer  of  those  hooks,  I  will, 
after  making  a  few  observations  on  the  inconsistencies  of 
the  writer  of  the  book  of  Deuteronomv,  proceed  to  show, 
from  the  historical  and  chronological  evidence  contained  in 
those  books,  that  Moses,  was  not,  because  he  could  not  fo, 
the  writer  of  them;  and  consequently,  that  there  is  no 
authority  for  believing,  that  the  inhuman  and  horrid  butch- 
eries of  men,  women,  and  children,  told  in  those  books,  were 
done,  as  those  books  say  they  were,  at  the  command  of  God. 
It  a  duty  incumbent  on  every  true  Deist,  that  he  vindicate 
the  moral  justice  of  God  against  the  calumnies  of  the  Bible. 

The  writer  of  the  book  of  Deuteronomy,  whoever  he 
was,  (for  it  is  an  anonymous  work,)  is  obscure,  and  also  in 
contradiction  with  himself,  in  the  account  he  has  given  of 
Moses. 

After  telling  that  Moses  went  to  the  top  of  Pisgah  (and  it 
does  not  appear  from  any  account  that  he  ever  came  down 
again)  he  tells  us,  that  Moses  died  there  in  the  land  of  Moab, 
and  that  he  buried  him  in  a  valley  in  the  land  of  Moab;  but 
as  there  is  no  antecedent  to  the  pronoun  he,  there  is  no 
knowing  who  he  was  that  did  bury  him.  If  the  writer  meant 
that  he  (God)  buried  him,  how  should  he  (the  writer)  know 
it?  or  why  should  we  (the  readers)  believe  him?  since  we 
know  not  who  the  writer  was  that  tells  us  so,  for  certainly 
Moses  could  not  himself  tell  where  he  was  buried. 

The  writer  also  tells  us,  that  no  man  knoweth  where  the 
sepulcher  of  Moses  is  unto  this  day,  meaning  the  time  in 
which  this  writer  lived;  how  then  should  he  know  that  Moses 
was  buried  in  a  valley  in  the  land  of  Moab?  for  as  the  writer 
lived  long  after  the  time  of  Moses,  as  is  evident  from  hia 
using  the  expression  of  unto  this  day,  meaning  a  great  length 
of  time  after  the  death  of  Moses,  he  certainly  was  not  at  hia 


68  THE   AGE   OF   BEA8ON.  [PAKT  H. 

funeral;  and  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  impossible  that  Moses 
himself  COD  Id  say,  that  no  man  knoweth  where  the  sepulcher 
is  unto  thit  day.  To  make  Moses  the  speaker  would  be  an 
improvement  on  the  play  of  a  child  that  hides  himself  and 
cries,  Nobody  can  find  me;  nobody  can  find  Moses. 

This  writer  has  nowhere  told  us  how  he  came  by  the 
speeches  which  he  has  put  into  the  mouth  of  Moses  to  speak, 
and,  therefore,  we  have  a  right  to  conclude,  that  he  either 
composed  them  himself,  or  wrote  them  from  oral  tradition. 
One  or  the  other  of  these  is  the  more  probable,  since  he  has 
given,  in  the  fifth  chapter,  a  table  of  commandments,  in 
which  that  called  the  fourth  commandment  is  different  from 
the  fourth  commandment  in  the  twentieth  chapter  of  Exodus. 
In  that  of  Exodus,  the  reason  given  for-keeping  the  seventh 
day  is,  "  because  (says  the  commandment)  God  made  the 
heavens  and  earth  in  six  days,  and  rested  on  the  seventh;" 
but  in  that  of  Deuteronomy,  the  reason  given  is,  that  it  was 
the  day  on  which  the  children  of  Isral  came  out  of  Egypt, 
and  therefore,  says  this  commandment,  the  Lord  thy  God 
commanded  thee  to  keep  the  sabbath-day.  This  makes  no 
mention  of  the  creation,  nor  that  of  the  coming  out  of  Egypt. 
There  are  also  many  things  given  as  laws  of  Moses  in  this 
book,  that  are  not  to  be  found  in  any  of  the  other  books; 
among  which  is  that  inhuman  and  brutal  law,  chap.  xxi.  ver. 
18,  19,  20,  21,  which  authorizes  parents,  the  father  and  the 
mother,  to  bring  their  own  children  to  have  them  stoned  to 
death  for  what  it  is  pleased  to  call  stubbornness.  But  priests 
have  always  been  fond  of  preaching  up  Deuteronomy,  for 
Deuteronomy  preaches  up  tithes;  and  it  is  from  this  book,  chap. 
xxv.  ver.  4,  they  have  taken  the  phrase,  and  applied  it  to 
tithing,  that  thou  shalt  not  muzzle  the  ox  when  he  treadeth 
out  the  corn;  and  that  this  might  not  escape  observation, 
they  have  noted  it  in  the  table  of  contents  at  the  head  of  the 
chapter,  though  it  is  only  a  single  verse  of  less  than  two 
lines.  O!  priests!  priests!  ye  are  willing  to  be  compared  to 
an  ox,  for  the  sake  of  tithes.  Though  it  is  impossible  for  us 
to  know  identically  who  the  writer  of  Deuteronomy  was,  it 
is  not  difficult  to  discover  him  professionally,  that  he  was 
some  Jewish  priest,  who  lived,  as  I  shall  show  in  the  course 
of  this  work,  at  least  three  hundred  and  fifty  years  after  the 
time  of  Moses. 

I  oome  now  to  speak  of  the   historical   and  chronological 


FART  II.]  THB   AGB   OF   SEASON.  69 

evidence.  The  chronology  that  I  shall  use  is  the  Bible 
chronology;  for  I  mean  not  to  go  out  of  the  Bible  for 
evidence  of  anything,  but  to  make  the  Bible  itself  prove 
historically  and  chronologically,  that  Moses  is  not  the 
author  of  the  books  ascribed  to  him.  It  is,  therefore, 
proper  that  I  inform  the  reader,  (such  an  one  at  least  as 
may  not  have  the  opportunity  of  knowing  it,)  that  in  the 
larger  Bibles,  and  also  in  some  smaller  ones,  there  is  a 
series  of  chronology  printed  in  the  margin  of  every  page, 
for  the  purpose  of  showing  how  long  the  historical  matters 
stated  in  each  page  happened,  or  are  supposed  to  have  hap- 
pened, before  Christ,  and,  consequently,  the  distance  of  time 
between  one  historical  circumstance  and  another. 

I  began  with  the  book  of  Genesis.  In  the  14th  chapter 
of  Genesis,  the  writer  gives  an  account  of  Lot  being  taken 
prisoner  in  a  battle  between  the  four  kings  against  five,  and 
carried  off ;  and  that  when  the  account  of  Lot  being  taken 
came  to  Abraham,  he  armed  all  his  household  and  marched 
to  rescue  Lot  from  the  captors  ;  and  that  he  pursued  them 
unto  Dan.  (ver.  14.) 

To  show  in  what  manner  this  expression  of  pursuing  them 
unto  Dan  applies  to  the  case  in  question,  I  will  refer  to  two 
circumstances,  the  one  in  America,  the  other  in  France. 
The  city  now  called  New  York,  in  America,  was  originally  New 
Amsterdam;  and  the  town  in  France,  lately  called  Havre 
Marat,  was  before  called  Havre  de  Grace.  New  Amsterdam 
was  changed  to  New  York  in  the  year  1664;  Havre  de  Grace 
to  Havre  Marat  in  1793.  Should,  therefore,  any  writing  be 
found,  though  without  date,  in  which  the  name  of  New  York 
should  be  mentioned,  it  would  be  certain  evidence  that  such 
a  writing  could  not  have  been  written  before,  and  must  have 
been  written  after  New  Amsterdam  was  changed  to  New 
York,  and  consequently  not  till  after  the  year  1664,  or  at  least 
during  the  course  of  that  year.  And,  in  like  manner,  any 
dateless  writing,  with  the  name  of  Havre  Marat,  would  be 
certain  evidence  that  such  a  writing  must  have  been  written 
after  Havre  de  Grace  became  Havre  Marat,  and  consequently 
not  till  after  the  year  1793,  or  at  least  during  the  course  of 
that  year. 

I  now  come  to  the  application  of  those  cases,  and  to  show 
that  there  was  no  such  place  as  Dan,  till  many  years  after 
the  death  of  Moses  ;  and,  consequently,  that  Moses  could 


70  THE  AGE  OF  REASON.          [PAET  H- 

not  be  the  writer  of  the  book  of  Genesis,  where  this  account 
of  pursuing  them  unto  Dan  is  given. 

The  place  that  is  called  Dan  in  the  Bible  was  originally  a 
town  of  the  Gentiles,  called  Laish  ;  and  when  the  tribe  of 
Dan  seized  upon  this  town,  they  changed  its  name  to  Dan, 
in  commemoration  of  Dan,  who  was  the  father  of  that  tribe, 
and  the  great  grandson  of  Abraham. 

To  establish  this  in  proof,  it  is  necessary  to  refer  from 
Genesis  to  the  18th  chapter  of  the  book  called  the  Book  of 
Judges.  It  is  there  said  (ver.  27)  that  they  (the  Danites) 
came  unto  Laish  to  a  people  that  were  quiet  and  secure,  ana 
they  smote  them  with  the  edge  of  the  sword  (the  Bible  is  filled 
with  murder)  and  burned  the  city  with  fire  ;  and  they  built 
a  city,  (ver.  28,)  and  dwelt  therein,  and  they  called  the  name 
of  the  city  Dan,  after  the  name  of  Dan,  their  father,  howbeit 
the  name  of  the  city  was  Laish  at  the  first. 

This  account  of  the  Danites  taking  possession  of  Laish 
and  changing  it  to  Dan,  is  placed  in  the  Book  of  Judges  im- 
mediately after  the  death  of  Samson.  The  death  of  Sam- 
son is  said  to  have  happened  1120  years  before  Christ,  and 
that  of  Moses  1451  before  Christ,  and,  therefore,  according 
to  the  historical  arrangement,  the  place  was  not  called  Dan 
till  331  years  after  the  death  of  Moses. 

There  is  a  striking  confusion  between  the  historical  and 
the  chronological  arrangement  in  the  Book  of  Judges.  The 
five  last  chapters,  as  they  stand  in  the  book,  17,  18,  19,  20, 
21,  are  put  chronologically  before  all  the  preceding  chapters; 
they  are  made  to  be  28  years  before  the  16th  chapter,  266 
before  the  15th,  245  before  the  13th,  195  before  the  9th,  90 
before  the  4th,  and  15  years  before  the  first  chapter.  This 
•hows  the  uncertain  and  fabulous  state  of  the  Bible.  Ac- 
cording to  the  chronological  arrangement,  the  taking  of  Laish 
and  giving  it  the  name  of  Dan,  is  made  to  be  20  years  after 
the  death  of  Joshua,  who  was  the  successor  of  Moses;  and 
by  the  historical  order  as  it  stands  in  the  book,  it  is  made 
to  be  306  years  after  the  death  of  Joshua,  and  331  after 
that  of  Moses ;  but  they  both  exclude  Moses  from  being  the 
writer  of  Genesis  because,  according  to  either  of  the  state- 
ments, no  such  place  as  Dan  existed  in  the  time  of  Moses  ; 
and  therefore,  the  writer  of  Genesis  must  have  been  some 
person  who  lived  after  the  town  of  Laish  had  the  name  of 
Dan  ;  and  who  that  person  was  nobody  knows  ;  and  con- 


PAJCT  II.]  THE    AGE    OF    BEA8OH.  71 

sequently  the  Book  of  Genesis  is  anonymous  and  without 
authority. 

I  proceed  now  to  state  another  point  of  historical  and 
chronological  evidence,  and  to  show  therefrom,  as  in  the 
preceding  case,  that  Moses  is  not  the  author  of  the  Book  of 
Genesis. 

In  the  36th  chapter  of  Genesis  there  is  given  a  genealogy 
of  the  sons  and  descendants  of  Esau,  who  are  called  Edom- 
ites,  and  also  a  list,  by  name,  of  the  kings  of  Edom  ;  in  enu- 
merating of  which,  it  is  said,  verse  31,  "  And  these  are  the 
kings  that  reigned  in  Edom,  before  there  reigned  any  king 
over  the  children  of  Israel" 

Now,  were  any  dateless  writings  to  be  found,  in  which, 
speaking  of  any  past  events,  the  writer  should  say,  these 
things  happened  before  there  was  any  Congress  in  America, 
or  before  there  was  any  Convention  in  France;  it  would  be 
evidence  that  such  writings  could  not  have  been  written 
before,  and  could  only  be  written  after  there  was  a  Congress 
in  America,  or  a  Convention  in  France,  as  the  case  might 
be  ;  and,  consequently,  that  it  could  not  be  written  by  any 
person  who  died  before  there  was  a  Congress  in  the  one  coun- 
try, or  a  Convention  in  the  other. 

Nothing  is  more  frequent,  as  well  in  history  as  in  conver- 
sation, than  to  refer  to  a  fact  in  the  room  of  a  date  :  it  is 
most  natural  so  to  do,  because  a  fact  fixes  itself  in  the  mem- 
ory better  than  a  date  ;  secondly,  because  the  fact  includes 
the  date,  and  serves  to  excite  two  ideas  at  once  ;  and  this 
manner  of  speaking  by  circumstances  implies  as  positively 
that  the  fact  alluded  to  is  past,  as  if  it  was  so  expressed. 
When  a  person  speaking  upon  any  matter,  says,  It  was 
before  I  was  married,  or  before  my  son  was  born,  or  before 
I  went  to  America,  or  before  I  went  to  France,  it  is  absolute- 
ly understood,  and  intended  to  be  understood,  that  he  has 
been  married,  that  he  has  had  a  son,  that  he  has  been  in 
America,  or  been  in  France.  Language  does  not  admit  of 
using  this  mode  of  expression  in  any  other  sense  ;  and 
whenever  such  an  expression  is  found  any  where,  it  can  only 
be  understood  in  the  sense  in  which  only  it  could  have  been 
used. 

The  passage,  therefore,  that  I  have  quoted — "  that  these 
are  the  kings  that  reigned  in  Edom,  before  there  reigned 
~wy  kintf  over  the  children  of  Israel,"  could  only  have  been 


79  TELK    AOE    OF    REASON  [PAICT  Q. 

written  after  the  first  king  began  to  reign  over  them ;  and, 
consequently,  that  the  Book  of  Genesis,  so  far  from  having 
been  written  by  Moses,  could  not  have  been  written  till  the 
time  of  Saul  at  least.  This  is  the  positive  sense  of  the  pas- 
sage ;  but  the  expression,  any  king,  implies  more  kings  than 
one,  at  least  it  implies  two,  and  this  will  carry  it  to  the 
time  of  David ;  and,  if  taken  in  a  general  sense,  it  carries 
itself  through  all  the  time  of  the  Jewish  monarchy. 

Had  we  met  with  this  verse  in  any  part  of  the  Bible  that 
professed  to  have  been  written  after  kings  began  to  reign  in 
Israel,  it  would  have  been  impossible  not  to  have  seen  the 
application  of  it.  It  happens  then  that  this  is  the  case  ;  the 
two  books  of  Chronicles,  which  gave  a  history  of  all  the 
kings  of  Israel,  are  professedly,  as  well  as  in  fact,  written 
after  the  Jewish  monarchy  began ;  and  this  verse  that  I  have 
quoted,  and  all  the  remaining  verses  of  the  36th  chapter  of 
Genesis,  are,  word  for  word,  in  the  first  chapter  of  Chronicles, 
beginning  at  the  43d  verse. 

It  was  with  consistency  that  the  writer  of  the  Chronicles 
could  say,  as  he  has  said,  1st  Chron.  chap.  i.  ver.  43,  These 
are  the  kings  that  reigned  in  Edom,  before  there  reigned 
any  king  over  the  children  of  Israel,  because  he  was  going 
to  give,  and  has  given,  a  list  of  the  kings  that  had  reigned 
in  Israel ;  but  as  it  is  impossible  that  the  same  expression 
could  have  been  used  before  that  period,  it  is  as  certain  as 
anything  can  be  proved  from  historical  language,  that  this 
part  of  Genesis  is  taken  from  Chronicles,  and  that  Genesis 
is  not  so  old  as  Chronicles,  and  probably  not  so  old  as  the 
book  of  Homer,  or  as  ^Esop's  Fables,  admitting  Homer  to 
have  been,  as  the  tables  of  chronology  state,  contemporary 
with  David  or  Solomon,  and  ^Esop  to  have  lived  about  the 
end  of  the  Jewish  monarchy. 

Take  away  from  Genesis  the  belief  that  Moses  was  the 
author,  on  which  only  the  strange  belief  that  it  is  the  word 
of  God  has  stood,  and  there  remains  nothing  of  Genesis  but 
an  anonymous  book  of  stories,  fables,  and  traditionary  or 
invented  absurdities,  or  of  downright  lies.  The  story  of 
Eve  and  the  serpent,  and  of  Noah  and  his  ark,  drops  to  a 
level  with  the  Arabian  Tales,  without  the  merit  of  being 
entertaining  ;  and  the  account  of  men  living  to  eight  and 
nine  hundred  years  becomes  as  fabulous  as  the  immortality 
or  cue  giants  of  the  Mythology. 


FABT  II.]  THK    AGE   OF    REASON.  78 

Besides,  the  character  of  Moses,  as  stated  in  the  Bible,  ia 
the  most  horrid  that  can  be  imagined.  If  those  accounts  be 
true,  he  was  the  wretch  that  first  began  and  carried  on  wars 
on  the  score,  or  on  the  pretense,  of  religion  ;  and  under  that 
mask,  or  that  infatuation,  committed  the  most  unexampled 
atrocities  that  are  to  be  found  in  the  history  of  any  nation, 
of  which  I  will  state  only  one  instance. 

When  the  Jewish  army  returned  from  one  of  their  mur- 
dering and  plundering  excursions,  the  account  goes  on  as 
follows,  Numbers,  chap.  xxxi.  ver.  13 :  -s 

"  And  Moses,  and  Eleazer  the  priest,  and  all  the  princes 
of  the  congregation,  went  forth  to  meet  them  without  the 
camp  ;  and  Moses  was  wroth  with  the  officers  of  the  host, 
with  the  captains  over  thousands,  and  captains  over  hun- 
dreds, which  came  from  the  battle  ;  and  Moses  said  unto 
them,  Have  ye  saved  all  the  women  alive?  behold,  these 
caused  the  children  of  Israel,  through  the  council  of  Balaam, 
to  commit  trespass  against  the  Lord,  in  the  matter  of  Peor, 
and  there  was  a  plague  among  the  congregation  of  the  Lord. 
Now,  therefore,  kill  every  male  among  the  little  ones,  and 
kill  every  woman  that  hath  known  a  man  by  lying  with  him; 
but  all  the  women-children  that  have  not  known  a  man  by  > 
lying  with  him  keep  alive  for  yourselves. 

Among  the  detestable  villains  that  in  any  period  of  the 
world  have  disgraced  the  name  of  man,  it  is  impossible  to 
find  a  greater  than  Moses,  if  this  account  be  true.  Here  is 
an  order  to  butcher  the  boys,  to  massacre  the  mothers,  and 
debauch  the  daughters. 

Let  any  mother  put  herself  in  the  situation  of  those 
mothers  ;  one  child  murdered,  another  destined  to  violation, 
and  herself  in  the  hands  of  an  executioner  ;  let  any  daugh- 
ter put  herself  in  the  situation  of  those  daughters,  destined 
as  a  prey  to  the  murderers  of  a  mother  and  a  brother,  and 
what  will  be  their  feelings?  It  is  in  vain  that  we  attempt 
to  impose  upon  nature,  for  nature  will  have  her  course,  and 
the  religion  that  tortures  all  her  social  ties  is  a  false  reli- 
gion. 

After  this  detestable  order  follows  an  account  of  the 
plunder  taken,  and  the  manner  of  dividing  it ;  and  here  it 
is  that  the  profaneness  of  priestly  hypocrisy  increases  the 
catalogue  of  crimes.  Verse  37,  "  And  the  Lord's  tribute  of 
the  sheep  was  six  hundred  and  three  score  and  fifteen  ;  and 


74  THE   AGE   OF   REASON.  [FAST  n. 

the  beeves  was  thirty  and  six  thousand,  of  which  the  LorcT» 
tribute  was  threescore  and  twelve ;  and  the  asses  were 
thirty  thousand,  of  which  the  Lord's  tribute  was  three- 
score and  one  ;  and  the  persons  were  thirty  thousand,  of 
which  the  Lord's  tribute  was  thirty  and  two."  In  short,  the 
matters  contained  in  this  chapter,  as  well  as  in  many  other 
parts  of  the  Bible,  are  too  horrid  for  humanity  to  read,  or 
for  decency  to  hear  ;  for  it  appears,  from  the  35th  verse  of 
this  chapter,  that  the  number  of  women-children  consigned 
to  debauchery  by  the  order  of  Moses  was  thirty-two  thou- 
sand. 

People  in  general  know  not  what  wickedness  there  is  in 
this  pretended  word  of  God.  Brought  up  in  habits  of  super- 
stition, they  take  it  for  granted  that  the  Bible  is  true,  and 
that  it  is  good  ;  they  permit  themselves  not  to  doubt  of  it, 
and  they  carry  the  ideas  they  form  of  the  benevolence  of  the 
Almighty  to  the  book  which  they  have  been  taught  to 
believe  was  written  by  his  authority.  Good  heavens !  it  is 
quite  another  thing  ;  it  is  a  book  of  lies,  wickedness,  and 
blasphemy  ;  for  what  can  be  greater  blasphemy,  than  to 
ascribe  the  wickedness  of  man  to  the  orders  of  the  Al- 
mighty? 

But  to  return  to  my  subject,  that  of  showing  that  Moses 
is  not  the  author  of  the  books  ascribed  to  him,  and  that  the 
Bible  is  spurious.  The  two  instances  I  have  already  given 
would  be  sufficient,  without  any  additional  evidence,  to  in- 
validate the  authenticity  of  any  book  that  pretended  to  be 
four  or  five  hundred  years  more  ancient  than  the  matters  it 
speaks  of,  or  refers  to,  as  facts  ;  for  in  the  case  of  pursuing 
them  unto  Dan,  and  of  the  kings  that  reigned  over  the  chil- 
dren of  Israel,  not  even  the  flimsy  pretense  of  prophecy 
can  be  pleaded.  The  expressions  are  in  the  preter  tense, 
and  it  would  be  downright  idiotism  to  say  that  a  man  could 
prophesy  in  the  preter  tense. 

But  there  are  many  other  passages  scattered  throughout 
those  books  that  unite  in  the  same  point  of  evidence.  It  is 
said  in  Exodus,  (another  of  the  books  ascribed  to  Moses,) 
chap,  xvi.,  verse  34,  "  And  the  children  of  Israel  did  eat  man- 
na until  they  came  to  a  land  inhabited  /  they  did  eat  manna 
until  they  came  unto  the  borders  of  the  land  of  Canaan. 

Whether  the  children  of  Israel  ate  manna  or  not,  or  what 
manna  was,  or  whether  it  wa«  anything  more  than  a  kind  of 


PAET  II.]  THE   AQB   OF    SEASON.  75 

fungus  or  small  mushroom,  or  other  vegetable  substance 
common  to  that  part  of  the  country,  makes  nothing  to  my 
argument;  all  that  I  mean  to  show  is,  that  it  is  not  Moses  that 
could  write  this  account,  because  the  account  extends  itself 
beyond  the  life  and  time  of  Moses.  Moses,  according  to  the 
Bible,  (but  it  is  such  a  book  of  lies  and  contradictions  there 
is  no  knowing  which  part  to  believe,  or  whether  any,)  dies 
in  the  wilderness,  and  never  came  upon  the  borders  of  the 
land  of  Canaan  ;  and,  consequently,  it  could  not  hje  he  that 
said  what  the  children  of  Israel  did,  or  what  they  ate  when 
they  came  there.  This  account  of  eating  manna,  which  they 
tell  us  was  written  by  Moses,  extends  itself  to  the  time  of 
Joshua,  the  successor  of  Moses,  as  appears  by  the  account 
given  in  the  book  of  Joshua,  after  the  children  of  Israel  had 
passed  the  river  Jordan,  and  came  unto  the  borders  of  the 
land  of  Canaan.  Joshua,  chap.  v.  verse  12.  '•'•And  the  man- 
na ceased  on  the  morrow,  after  they  had  eaten  of  the  old  corn 
of  the  land  ;  neither  had  the  children  of  Israel  manna  any 
more,  but  they  did  eat  of  the  fruit  of  the  land  of  Canaan 
that  year.'1 

But  a  more  remarkable  instance  than  this  occurs  in  Deu- 
teronomy ;  which,  while  it  shows  that  Moses  could  not  be 
the  writer  of  that  book,  shows  also  the  fabulous  notions  that 
prevailed  at  that  time  about  giants.  In  the  third  chapter  of 
Deuteronomy,  among  the  conquests  said  to  be  made  by 
Moses,  is  an  account  of  the  taking  of  Og,  king  of  Bashan, 
ver.  11:  "  For  only  Og,  king  of  Bashan,  remained  of  the  race 
of  giants;  behold,  his  bedstead  was  a  bedstead  of  iron;  is  it 
not  in  Rabbath  of  the  children  of  Ammon  ?  nine  cubits  was 
the  length  thereof,  and  four  cubits  the  breadth  of  it,  after 
the  cubit  of  a  man."  A  cubit  is  1  foot  9-8S81000ths  inches; 
the  length,  therefore,  of  the  bed  was  16  feet  4  inches,  and 
the  breadth  7  feet  4  inches;  thus  much,  for  this  giant's  bed. 
Now  for  the  historical  part,  which,  though  the  evidence  is 
not  so  direct  and  positive,  as  in  the  former  cases,  it  is  never- 
theless very  presumable  and  corroborating  evidence,  and  is 
better  than  the  best  evidence  on  the  contrary  side. 

The  writer,  by  way  of  proving  the  existence  of  this  giant, 
refers  to  his  bed,  as  an  ancient  relic,  and  says,  is  it  not  in 
Rabbath  (or  Rabbah)  of  the  children  of  Ammon  ?  meaning 
that  it  is;  for  such  is  frequently  the  Bible  method  of  affirm- 
ing a  thing.  But  it  could  not  be  Moses  that  said  this,  because 


76  THE   AOK   OF   BEA8OU.  [PART  n. 

Moses  could  know  nothing  about  Rabbah,  nor  of  what  was  in  it. 
Rabbah  was  not  a  city  belonging  to  this  giant  king,  nor  was 
it  one  of  the  cities  that  Moses  took.  The  knowledge,  there- 
fore, that  this  bed  was  at  Rabbah,  and  of  the  particulars  of 
its  dimensions,  must  be  referred  to  the  time  when  Rabbah 
was  taken,  and  this  was  not  till  four  hundred  years  after  the 
death  of  Moses;  for  which,  see  2  Sam.,  chap,  xii.,  ver.  26:  "  And 
Joab  (David's  general)  fought  against  Rabbah  of  the  chil- 
dren of  ^mrnon,  and  took  the  royal  city." 

As  I  am  not  undertaking  to  point  out  all  the  contradic- 
tions in  time,  place  and  circumstance,  that  abound  in  the 
books  ascribed  to  Moses,  and  which  prove  to  a  demonstration 
that  those  books  could  not  be  written  by  Moses,  nor  in  the 
time  of  Moses,  I  proceed  to  the  book  of  Joshua,  and  to  show 
that  Joshua  is  not  the  author  of  that  book,  and  that  it  is 
anonymous  and  without  authority.  The  evidence  I  shall 
produce  is  contained  in  the  book  itself;  I  will  not  go  out  of 
the  Bible  for  proof  against  the  supposed  authenticity  of  the 
Bible.  False  testimony  is  always  good  against  itself. 

Joshua,  according  to  the  first  chapter  of  Joshua,  was  the 
immediate  successor  of  Moses  ;  he  was,  moreover,  a  military 
man,  which  Moses  was  not,  and  he  continued  as  chief  of  the 
people  of  Israel  25  years ;  that  is,  from  the  time  Moses  died, 
which,  according  to  the  Bible  chronology,  was  1451  years 
before  Christ,  until  1426  years  before  Christ,  when,  accord- 
ing to  the  same  chronology,  Joshua  died.  If,  therefore,  we 
find  in  this  book,  said  to  have  been  written  by  Joshua,  refer- 
ence to  facts  done  after  the  death  of  Joshua,  it  is  evidence 
that  Joshua  could  not  be  the  author ;  and  also  that  the  book 
could  not  have  been  written  till  after  the  time  of  the  latest 
fact  which  it  records.  As  to  the  character  of  the  book,  it  is 
horrid  ;  it  is  a  military  history  of  rapine  and  murder,  as 
savage  and  brutal  as  those  recorded  of  his  predecessor  in 
villainy  and  hypocrisy,  Moses  ;  and  the  blasphemy  consists, 
as  in  the  former  books,  in  ascribing  those  deeds  to  the  order 
of  the  Almighty. 

In  the  first  place,  the  book  of  Joshua,  as  is  the  case  in 
the  preceding  books,  is  written  in  the  third  person  ;  it  is  the 
historian  of  Joshua  that  speaks,  for  it  would  have  been  ab- 
surd and  vain-glorious  that  Joshua  should  say  of  himself,  as 
is  said  of  him  in  the  last  verse  of  the  sixth  chapter,  that 
**Aw  fame  was  noised  throughout  all  the  country"  I  now 
oomo  more  immediately  to  the  proof. 


FA_KT  II.  J  THE    AGE   OF    SEASON.  77 

In  the  24th  chapter,  ver.  31,  i*  is  said,  "  that  Israel  served 
the  Lord  all  the  days  of  Joshua,  and  all  the  days  of  tht 
elders  that  overlived  Joshua"  Now,  in  the  name  of  com- 
mon sense,  can  it  be  Joshua  that  relates  what  people  had 
done  after  he  was  dead  ?  This  account  must  not  only  have 
been  wriiten  by  some  historian  that  lived  after  Joshua,  but 
that  lived  also  after  the  elders  that  outlived  Joshua. 

There  are  several  passages  of  a  general  meaning  with 
respect  to  time,  scattered  throughout  the  book  of  Joshua, 
that  carries  the  time  in  which  the  book  was  written  to  a  dis- 
tance from  the  time  of  Joshua,  but  without  marking  by  exclu- 
sion any  particular  time,  as  in  the  passage  above  quoted. 
In  that  passage,  the  time  that  intervened  between  the  death 
of  Joshua  and  the  death  of  the  elders  is  excluded  descrip- 
tively and  absolutely,  and  the  evidence  substantiates  that 
the  book  could  not  have  been  written  till  after  the  death  of 
the  last. 

But  though  the  passages  to  which  I  allude,  and  which  I 
am  going  to  quote,  do  not  designate  any  particular  time  by 
exclusion,  they  imply  a  time  far  more  distant  from  the  d»ys 
of  Joshua  than  is  contained  between  the  death  of  Joshua 
and  the  death  of  the  elders.  Such  is  the  passage,  chap.  x. 
ver.  14;  where,  after  giving  an  account  that  the  sun  stood 
still  upon  Gibeon,  and  the  moon  in  the  valley  of  Aialon,  at 
the  command  of  Joshua,  (a  tale  only  fit  to  amuse  children,) 
the  passage  says,  "  And  there  was  no  day  like  that,  before 
it,  nor  after  it,  that  the  Lord  hearkened  to  the  voice  of  a 
man." 

This  tale  of  the  sun  standing  still  upon  Mount  Gibeon,  and 
the  moon  in  the  valley  of  Ajalon,  is  one  of  those  fables  that 
detects  itself.  Such  a  circumstance  could  not  have  happened 
without  being  known  all  over  the  world.  One- half  would 
have  wondered  why  the  sun  did  not  rise,  and  the  other  why 
it  did  not  set;  and  the  tradition  of  it  would  be  universal, 
whereas  there  ia  not  a  nation  in  the  world  that  knows  any- 
thing about  it.  But  why  must  the  moon  stand  still?  What 
occasion  could  there  be  for  moonlight  in  the  daytime,  and 
that  too  while  the  sun  shined?  As  a  poetical  figure,  the 
whole  is  well  enough;  it  is  akin  to  that  in  the  song  of 
Deborah  and  Barak,  The  stars  in  their  courses  fought  against 
Sisera;  but  it  is  inferior  to  the  figurative  declaration  of 
Mahomet  to  the  persons  who  came  to  expostulate  with  him 


78  THE   AGE   OF   BBA8ON.  [PABT  n. 

on  his  goin<r  on,  Wert  thon,  said  he,  to  come  to  me  urith  the 
run  in  thy  right  hand  and  the  moon  in  thy  left*  it  should  not 
alter  my  career.  For  Joshua  to  have  exceeded  Mahomet,  he 
should  have  put  the  sun  and  moon  one  in  each  pocket,  and 
carried  them  as  Guy  Faux  carried  his  dark  lantern,  and 
taken  them  out  to  shine  as  he  might  happen  to  want  them. 

The  sublime  and  the  ridiculous  are  often  so  nearly  related 
that  it  is  difficult  to  class  them  separately.  One  step  above 
the  sublime  makes  the  ridiculous,  and  one  step  above  the 
ridiculous  makes  the  sublime  again;  the  account,  however, 
abstracted  from  the  poetical  fancy,  shows  the  ignorance  of 
Joshua,  for  he  should  have  commanded  the  earth  to  nave 
stood  still. 

The  time  implied  by  the  expression  after  it,  that  is,  after 
that  day,  being  put  in  comparison  with  all  the  time  that 
passed  before  it,  must,  in  order  to  give  any  expressive  sig- 
nification to  the  passage,  mean  a  great  length  of  time; — for 
example,  it  would  have  been  ridiculous  to  have  said  so  the 
next  day,  or  the  next  week,  or  the  next  month,  or  the  next 
year;  to  give,  therefore,  meaning  to  the  passage,  compara- 
tive with  the  wonder  it  relates,  and  the  prior  time  it  alludes 
to,  it  must  mean  centuries  of  years;  less,  however,  than 
one  would  be  trifling,  and  less  than  two  would  be  barely 
admissible. 

A  distant,  but  general  time,  is  also  expressed  in  the  8th 
chapter;  where,  after  giving  an  account  of  the  taking  the 
city  of  Ai,  it  is  said,  ver.  28th,  "  And  Joshua  burned  Ai,  and 
made  it  an  heap  forever,  a  desolation  unto  this  day;"  and 
again,  ver.  29,  where,  speaking  of  the  king  of  Ai,  whom 
Joshua  had  hanged,  and  buried  at  the  entering  of  the  gate, 
it  is  said,  "  And  he  raised  thereon  a  great  heap  of  stones, 
which  remaineth  unto  this  day,"  that  is,  unto  the  day  or 
time  in  which  the  writer  of  the  book  of  Joshua  lived.  And 
again,  in  the  10th  chapter,  where,  after  speaking  of  the  five 
kings  whom  Joshua  had  hanged  on  five  trees,  and  then 
thrown  in  a  cave,  it  is  said,  "  And  he  laid  great  stones  on  the 
cave's  mouth,  which  remain  unto  this  very  day.'* 

In  enumerating  the  several  exploits  of  Joshua,  and  of  the 
tribes,  and  of  the  places  which  they  conquered  or  attempted, 
it  u  said,  c.  xv.  ver.  63,  *'  As  for  the  Jebusites,  the  inhabi- 
tant* of  Jerusalem,  the  children  of  Judah  could  not  drive 
them  out;  but  the  Jebusitet  dwell  with  the  children  of 


P.AJBT  II.]  THB   AGB   OF    REASON.  79 

Judah  at  Jerusalem  unto  this  day"  The  question  upon  thia 
passage  is,  at  what  time  did  the  Jebusites  and  the  children 
of  Judah  dwell  together  at  Jerusalem?  As  this  matter 
occurs  again  in  the  first  chapter  of  Judges,  I  shall  reserve  my 
observations  till  I  come  to  that  part. 

Having  thus  shown  from  the  book  of  Joshua  itself,  without 
any  auxiliary  evidence  whatever,  that  Joshua  is  not  the 
author  of  that  book,  and  that  it  is  anonymous,  and  conse- 
quently without  authority,  I  proceed,  as  before-mentioned, 
to  the  book  of  Judges. 

The  book  of  Judges  is  anonymous  on  the  face  of  it;  and, 
therefore,  even  the  pretense  is  wanting  to  call  it  the  word 
of  God;  it  has  not  so  much  as  a  nominal  voucher;  it  is  alto- 
gether fatherless. 

This  book  begins  with  the  same  expression  as  the  book 
of  Joshua.  That  of  Joshua  begins,  chap.  i.  ver.  1,  Novo 
after  the  death  of  Moses,  etc.,  and  this  of  the  Judges  begins, 
N~ow  after  the  death  of  Joshua,  etc.  This,  and  the  simi- 
larity of  style  between  the  two  books,  indicate  that  they 
are  the  work  of  the  same  author,  but  who  he  was,  is  alto- 
gether unknown;  the  only  point  that  the  book  proves  is, 
that  the  author  lived  long  after  the  time  of  Joshua;  for 
though  it  begins  as  if  it  followed  immediately  after  his 
death,  the  second  chapter  is  an  epitome  or  abstract  of  the 
whole  book,  which,  according  to  the  Bible  chronology,  extends 
its  history  through  a  space  of  306  years  ;  that  is,  from  the 
death  of  Joshua,  1426  years  before  Christ,  to  the  death  of 
Samson,  1120  years  before  Christ,  and  only  25  years  before 
Saul  went  to  seek  his  father's  asses,  and  was  made  king. 
But  there  is  good  reason  to  believe,  that  it  was  not  written 
till  the  time  of  David,  at  least,  and  that  the  book  of  Joshua 
was  not  written  before  the  same  time. 

In  the  first  chapter  of  Judges,  the  writer,  after  announc- 
ing the  death  of  Joshua,  proceeds  to  tell  what  happened 
between  the  children  of  Judah  and  the  native  inhabitants  of 
the  land  of  Canaan.  In  this  statement,  the  writer,  having 
abruptly  mentioned  Jerusalem  in  the  7th  verse,  says  imme- 
diately after,  in  the  8th  verse,  by  way  of  explanation,  "  Now 
the  children  of  Judah  had  fought  against  Jerusalem,  and 
taken  it ;"  consequently  this  book  could  not  have  been  writ- 
ten before  Jerusalem  had  been  taken.  The  reader  will  recol- 
lect the  quotation  I  have  just  before  made  from  the  15th 


80  THE    AGE   OF    REASON.  [PART  EL 

chapter  of  Joshua,  ver.  63,  where  it  said  that  the  Jebusites 
dwell  with  the  children  of  Judah  at  Jerusalem  at  this  day , 
meaning  the  time  when  the  book  of  Joshua  was  written. 

The  evidence  I  have  already  produced,  to  prove  that  the 
books  I  have  hitherto  treated  of  were  not  written  by  the 
persons  to  whom  they  are  ascribed,  nor  till  many  years  after 
their  death,  if  such  persons  ever  lived,  is  already  so  abundant, 
that  I  can  afford  to  admit  this  passage  with  less  weight  than 
I  am  entitled  to  draw  from  it.  For  the  case  is  that  so  far  as 
the  Bible  can  be  credited  as  an  history,  the  city  of  Jerusalem 
was  not  taken  till  the  time  of  David  ;  and,  consequently,  the 
books  of  Joshua,  and  of  Judges,  were  not  written  till  after 
the  commencement  of  the  reign  of  David,  which  was  370 
years  after  the  death  of  Joshua. 

The  name  of  the  city,  that  was  afterwards  called  Jeru- 
salem, was  originally  Jebus,  or  Jebusi,  and  was  the  capital 
of  the  Jebusites.  The  account  of  David's  taking  this  city  is 
given  in  2  Samuel,  chapter  v.,  ver.  4,  &c.;  also  in  1  Chron., 
chap,  xiv.,  ver.  4,  &c.  There  is  no  mention  in  any  part  of 
the  Bible  that  it  was  ever  taken  before,  nor  any  account  that 
favors  such  an  opinion.  It  is  said,  either  in  Samuel  or  in 
Chronicles,  that  they  utterly  destroyed  men,  women,  and 
children  ;  that  they  left  not  a  soul  to  breathe,  as  is  said  of 
their  other  conquests;  and  the  silence  here  observed  implies 
that  it  was  taken  by  capitulation,  and  that  the  Jebusites,  the 
native  inhabitants,  continued  to  live  in  the  place  after  it  was 
taken.  The  account,  therefore,  given  in  Joshua  that  the  Jebu- 
sites dwell  with  the  children  of  Judah  at  Jerusalem  at  this 
day,  corresponds  to  no  other  time  than  after  the  taking  of 
the  city  by  David. 

Having  now  shown  that  every  book  in  the  Bible,  from 
Genesis  to  Judges,  is  without  authenticity,  I  come  to  the 
book  of  liuth,  an  idle,  bungling  story,  foolishly  told,  nobody 
knows  by  whom,  about  a  strolling  country-girl  creeping  slyly 
to  bed  to  her  cousin  Boaz.  Pretty  stuff  indeed  to"  be  called 
the  word  of  God  I  It  is,  however,  one  of  the  best  books  in 
the  Bible,  for  it  is  free  from  murder  and  rapine. 

I  come  next  to  the  two  books  of  Samuel,  and  to  show  that 
those  books  were  not  written  by  Samuel,  nor  till  a  great 
length  of  time  after  the  death  of  Samuel ;  and  that  they  are, 
like  all  the  former  books,  anonymous  and  without  authority. 

To  be  convinced  that  these  books  have  been  written  much 


P-AJtT  n.]  THE   AGE   OF    REASON.  81 

later  than  the  time  of  Samuel,  and,  consequently,  not  by  him, 
it  is  only  necessary  to  read  the  account  which  the  writer  gives 
of  Saul  going  to  seek  his  father's  asses,  and  of  his  interview 
with  Samuel,  of  whom  Saul  went  to  inquire  about  those  lost 
asses,  as  foolish  people  now-a-days  go  to  a  conjurer  to  inquire 
after  lost  things, 

The  writer,  in  relating  this  story  of  Saul,  Samuel  and  the 
asses,  does  not  tell  it  as  a  thing  that  had  just  then  happened, 
but  as  an  ancient  story  in  the  time  this  writer  lived ;  for  he 
tells  it  in  the  language  or  terms  used  at  the  time  that  /Sam- 
uel lived,  which  obliges  the  writer  to  explain  the  story  in  the 
terms  or  language  used  in  the  time  the  writer  lived. 

Samuel,  in  the  account  given  of  him,  in  the  first  of  those 
books,  chap,  ix.,  is  called  the  seer ;  and  it  is  by  this  term  that 
Saul  inquires  after  him,  ver.  11,  "  And  as  they  (Saul  and  his 
servant)  went  up  the  hill  to  the  city,  they  found  young 
maidens  going  out  to  draw  water ;  and  they  said  unto  them, 
Is  the  seer  here  /''  Saul  then  went  according  to  the  direc- 
tion of  these  maidens,  and  met  Samuel  without  knowing  him, 
and  said  unto  him,  ver.  18,  "  Tell  me,  I  pray  thee,  where  the 
seer's  houte  is  f  and  Samuel  answered  Saul  and  said,  lorn  the 

•eer" 

As  the  writer  of  the  book  of  Samuel  relates  these  ques- 
tions and  answers,  in  the  language  or  manner  of  speaking 
used  in  the  time  they  are  said  to  have  been  spoken  ;  and  as 
that  manner  of  speaking  was  out  of  use  when  this  author 
wrote,  he  found  it  necessary,  in  order  to  make  the  story 
understood,  to  explain  the  terms  in  which  these  questions 
and  answers  are  spoken  ;  and  he  does  this  in  the  9th  verse, 
where  he  says,  "before-time,  in  Israel,  when  a  man  went 
to  inquire  of  God,  thus  he  spake,  Come,  let  us  go  to  the 
seer  ;  for  he  that  is  now  called  a  prophet,  was  before-time 
called  a  seer.*'  This  proves,  as  I  have  before  said,  that  this 
story  of  Saul,  Samuel  and  the  asses,  was  an  ancient  story  at 
the  time  the  book  of  Samuel  was  written,  and  consequently 
Samuel  did  not  write  it,  and  that  that  book  was  without 
authenticity. 

But  if  we  go  further  into  those  books  the  evidence  is  still 
more  positive  that  Samuel  is  not  the  writer  of  them :  for 
they  relate  things  that  did  not  happen  till  several  years  after 
the  death  of  Samuel.  Samuel  died  before  Saul  ;  for  the  1st 


82  THE   AGE   OF   REASON.  [PABT  n. 

Samuel,  chap,  xxviii.  tells,  that  Saul,  and  the  witch  of  Endor 
conjured  Samuel  up  after  he  was  dead  ;  yet  the  history  of 
the  matters  contained  in  those  books  is  extended  through 
the  remaining  part  of  Saul's  life,  and  to  the  latter  end  of  the 
life  of  David,  who  succeeded  Saul.  The  account  of  the 
death  and  burial  of  Samuel  (a  thing  which  he  could  not 
write  himself)  ia  related  in  the  25th  chapter  of  the  first  book 
of  Samuel ;  and  the  chronology  affixed  to  this  chapter  makes 
this  to  be  1060  years  before  Christ  ;  yet  the  history  of  this 
firtt  book  is  bought  down  to  1U50  years  before  Christ ;  that 
is,  till  the  death  of  Saul,  which  was  not  till  four  years  aftei 
the  death  of  Samuel. 

The  second  book  of  Samuel  begins  with  an  account  oi 
things  that  did  not  happen  till  four  years  after  Samuel  was 
dead  ;  for  it  begins  with  the  reign  of  David,  who  suc- 
ceeded Saul,  and  it  goes  on  to  the  end  of  David's  reign,  which 
was  forty-three  years  after  the  death  of  Samuel  ;  and,  there- 
fore, the  books  are  in  themselves  positive  evidence  that  they 
were  not  written  by  Samuel. 

I  have  now  gone  through  all  the  books  in  the  first  part  of 
the  Bible,  to  which  the  names  of  persons  are  affixed,  as  be- 
ing the  authors  of  those  book,  and  which  the  church,  styling 
itself  the  Christian  church,  have  imposed  upon  the  world  as 
the  writings  of  Moses,  Joshua  and  Samuel  ;  and  I  have  de- 
tected and  proved  the  falsehood  of  this  imposition.  And 
now,  ye  priests,  of  every  description,  who  have  preached  and 
written  against  the  former  part  of  the  Age  of  Reason,  what 
have  ye  to  say?  Will  ye,  with  all  this  mass  of  evidence 
against  you,  and  staring  you  in  the  face,  still  have  the  assur- 
ance to  march  into  your  pulpits,  and  continue  to  impose 
these  books  on  your  congregations,  as  the  works  of  inspired 
penmen^  and  the  word  of  God,  when  it  is  as  evident  as  dem- 
onstration can  make  truth  appear,  that  the  persons  who,  ye 
say,  are  the  authors,  are  not  the  authors,  and  that  ye  know 
not  who  the  authors  are?  What  shadow  of  pretence  have  ye 
now  to  produce  for  continuing  the  blasphemous  fraud? 
What  have  ye  still  to  offer  against  the  pure  and  moral  relig- 
ion of  Deism,  in  support  of  your  system  of  falsehood,  idola- 
try and  pretended  revelation?  Had  the  cruel  and  murder- 
ous orders,  with  which  the  Bible  is  filled,  and  the  number- 
less torturing  executions  of  men,  women,  and  children,  in 
consequence  of  those  orders,  been  ascribed  to  some  friend, 


FAJKT  II.]  THE    AGE   OF    REASON.  88 

whose  memory  you  revered,  you  would  have  glowed  with 
satisfaction  at  detecting  the  falsehood  of  the  charge,  and 
gloried  in  defending  his  injured  fame.  It  is  because  ye  are 
sunk  in  the  cruelty  of  superstition,  or  feel  no  interest  in  the 
honor  of  your  Creator,  that  ye  listen  to  the  horrid  tales  of 
the  Bible,  or  hear  them  with  callous  indifference.  The  evi- 
dence I  have  produced,  and  shall  still  produce  in  the  course 
of  this  work,  to  prove  that  the  Bible  is  without  authority, 
will,  whilst  it  wounds  the  stubbornness  of  a  priest,  relieve 
and  tranquilize  the  minds  of  millions ;  it  will  free  them  from 
all  those  hard  thoughts  of  the  Almighty  which  priestcraft 
and  the  Bible  had  infused  into  their  minds,  and  which  stood 
in  everlasting  opposition  to  all  their  ideas  of  his  moral  jus- 
tice and  benevolence. 

I  come  now  to  the  two  books  of  Kings,  and  the  two  booki 
of  Chronicles.  Those  books  are  altogether  historical,  and 
are  chiefly  confined  to  the  lives  and  actions  of  the  Jewish 
kings,  who  in  general  were  a  parcel  of  rascals;  but  these  are 
matters  with  which  we  have  no  more  concern,  than  we  have 
with  the  Roman  emperors,  or  Homer's  account  of  the  Trojan 
war.  Besides  which,  as  those  works  are  anonymous,  and  as 
we  know  nothing  of  the  writer,  or  of  his  character,  it  is  im- 
possible for  us  to  know  what  degree  of  credit  to  give  to  the 
matters  related  therein.  Like  all  other  ancient  histories, 
they  appear  to  be  a  jumble  of  fable  and  lact,  and  of  probable 
and  of  improbable  things;  but  which,  distance  rf  .OI.Q  and 
place,  and  change  of  circumstances  in  the  world,  have  ren- 
dered obsolete  and  uninteresting. 

The  chief  use  I  shall  make  of  those  books  will  be  that  of 
comparing  them  with  each  other,  and  with  other  parts  of  the 
Bible,  to  show  the  confusion,  contradiction  and  cruelty  in 
this  pretended  word  of  God. 

The  first  book  of  lluigs  begins  with  the  reign  of  Solomon, 
which,  according  to  the  Bible  chronology,  was  1015  years  be- 
fore Christ;  and  the  second  book  ends  588  years  before  Christ, 
being  a  little  after  the  reign  of  Zedekiah,  whom  Nebuchad- 
nezzar, after  taking  Jerusalem  and  conquering  the  Jews,  car- 
ried captive  to  Babylon.  The  two  books  include  a  space  of 
427  years. 

The  two  books  of  Chronicles  are  a  history  of  the  same 
times,  and,  in  general,  of  the  same  persons,  by  another 
author;  for  it  would  be  absurd  to  suppose  that  the  same 


84  THE    AGE    OF    REASON.  [PABT  II. 

author  wrote  the  history  twice  over.  The  first  book  of 
Chronicles  (after  Driving  the  genealogy  from  Adam  to  Saul, 
which  takes  up  the  first  nine  chapters)  begins  with  the  reign 
of  David;  and  the  last  book  ends  as  in  the  last  book  of 
Kings,  soon  after  the  reigu  of  Zedekiah,  about  588  years 
before  Christ.  The  two  last  verses  of  the  last  chapter  bring 
the  history  52  years  more  forward,  that  is,  to  536.  But  these 
verses  do  not  belong  to  the  book,  as  I  shall  show  when  I 
come  to  speak  of  the  book  of  Ezra. 

The  two  books  of  Kings,  besides  the  history  of  Saul, 
David  and  Solomon,  who  reigned  over  all  Israel,  contain  an 
abstract  of  the  lives  of  seventeen  kings  and  one  queen,  who 
are  styled  Kings  of  Judah,  and  of  nineteen,  who  are  styled 
Kings  of  Israel;  for  the  Jewish  nation,  immediately  on  the 
death  of  Solomon,  split  into  two  parties,  who  chose  separate 
kings,  and  who  carried  on  most  rancorous  wars  against  each 
other. 

Those  two  books  are  little  more  than  a  hi  story  of  assassina- 
tions, treachery  and  wars.  The  cruelties  that  the  Jews  had 
accustomed  themselves  to  practice  on  the  Canaanites,  whose 
country  they  had  savagely  invaded  under  a  pretended 
gift  from  God,  they  afterwards  practiced  as  furiously  on 
each  other.  Scarcely  half  their  kings  died  a  natural  death, 
and,  in  some  instances,  whole  families  were  destroyed  to 
secure  possession  to  the  successor,  who,  after  a  few  years, 
and  Svji^cl'mes  only  a  few  months,  or  less,  shared  the 
same  fate.  In  the  tenth  chapter  of  the  second  book  of 
Kings  an  account  is  given  of  two  baskets  full  of  chil- 
dren's heads,  seventy  in  number,  being  exposed  at  the 
entrance  of  the  city;  they  were  the  children  of  Ahab,  and 
were  murdered  by  the  orders  of  Jehu,  whom  Elisha,  the 
pretended  man  of  Goo,  ^ad  anointed  to  be  king  over 
Israel,  on  purpose  to  commit  this  bloody  deed,  and  assas- 
sinate his  predecessor.  And  in  the  account  of  the  reign  of 
Manaham,  one  of  the  kings  of  Israel  who  had  murdered 
Shallum,  who  had  reigned  but  one  month,  it  is  said, 
Kings,  chap.  XVM  ver.  16,  that  Manaham  smote  the  city  of 
Tiphsah,  because  they  opened  not  the  city  to  him,  and 
all  the,  women  that  were  therein  that  were  with  child  they 
ripped  up. 

Could  we  permit  ourselves  to  suppose  that  the  Almighty 
would  distinguish  any  nation  of  people-  bv  the  name  of  Hit 


PA.BT  II.J  THE    AOK    OK    KEASOH.  86 

chosen  people,  we  must  suppose  that  people  to  have  been 
an  example  to  all  the  rest  of  the  world  of  the  purest  piety 
and  humanity,  and  not  such  a  nation  of  ruffians  and  cut- 
throats as  the  ancient  Jews  were;  a  people  who,  corrupted 
by  and  copying  after  such  monsters  and  impostors  as  Moses 
and  Aaron,  Joshua,  Samuel  and  David,  had  distinguished 
themselves  above  all  others,  on  the  face  of  the  known  earth, 
for  barbarity  and  wickedness.  If  we  will  not  stubbornly 
shut  our  eyes  and  steel  our  hearts,  it  is  impossible  not  to 
see,  in  spite  of  all  that  long-established  superstition  im- 
poses upon  the  mind,  that  that  flattering  appellation  of 
Sis  chosen  people  is  no  other  than  a  lie  the  priests  and 
leaders  of  the  Jews  had  invented,  to  cover  the  baseness  of 
their  own  characters,  and  which  Christian  priests,  some- 
times as  corrupt  and  often  as  cruel,  have  professed  to 
believe. 

The  two  books  of  Chronicles  are  a  repetition  of  the  same 
crimes;  but  the  history  is  broken  in  several  places  by  the 
author  leaving  out  the  reign  of  some  of  their  kings;  and 
in  this,  as  well  as  in  that  of  Kings,  there  is  such  a  frequent 
transition  from  kings  of  Judah  to  kings  of  Israel,  and  from 
kings  of  Israel  to  kings  of  Judah,  that  the  narrative  is 
obscure  in  the  reading.  In  the  same  book  the  history  some- 
times contradicts  itself ;  for  example,  in  the  second  book  of 
Kings,  chap,  i.,  ver.  8,  we  are  told,  but  in  rather  ambiguous 
terms,  that,  after  the  death  of  Ahaziah,  King  of  Israel, 
Jehoram,  or  Joram,  (who  was  of  the  house  of  Ahab,) 
reigned  in  his  stead  in  the  second  year  of  Jehoram,  or 
Joram,  son  of  Jehoshaphat,  King  of  Judah;  and  in  chap, 
viii.,  ver.  16,  of  the  same  book  it  is  said,  and  in  the  fifth 
year  of  Joram,  the  son  of  Ahab,  king  of  Israel,  Jehosha- 
phat being  then  king  of  Judah,  began  to  reign ;  that  is,  one 
chapter  says  Joram  of  Judah  began  to  reign  in  the  second 
year  of  Joram  of  Israel;  and  the  other  chapter  says,  that 
Joram  of  Israel  began  to  reign  in  the  fifth  year  of  Joram  of 
Judah. 

Several  of  the  most  extraordinary  matters  related  in  one 
history,  as  having  happened  during  the  reign  of  such  and 
such  of  their  kings,  are  not  to  be  found  in  the  other,  in 
relating  the  reign  of  the  same  king;  for  example,  the  two 
first  rival  kings,  after  the  death  of  Solomon,  were  Rehoboam 
and  Jeroboam;  and  in  1  Kings,  chap.  xii.  and  xiii.,  an 


86  THJC    AOK   OF    KKA80M.  [PAST  EL 

account  is  given  of  Jeroboam  making  an  offering  of  burnt 
incense,  and  that  a  man  who  is  there  called  a  man  of  God, 
cried  out  against  the  altar,  chap.  xiii.  ver.  2:  "O  altar,  altar, 
thus  saith  the  Lord:  Behold,  a  child  shall  be  born  to  the 
house  of  David,  Josiah  by  name,  and  upon  thee  shall  he  offer 
the  priests  of  the  high  places,  and  burn  incense  upon  thee, 
and  men's  bones  shall  be  burnt  upon  thee."  Verse  4:  "And 
it  came  to  pass,  when  king  Jeroboam  heard  the  saying  of  the 
man  of  God,  which  had  cried  against  the  altar  in  Bethel,  that 
he  put  forth  his  hand  from  the  altar,  saying,  Lay  hold  on 
him.  And  his  hand,  which  he  put  out  against  him,  dried  up,  so 
that  he  could  not  pull  it  again  to  him" 

One  would  think  that  such  an  extraordinary  case  as  this, 
(which  is  spoken  of  as  a  judgment,)  happening  to  the  chief 
of  one  of  the  parties,  and  that  at  the  first  moment  of  the 
separation  of  the  Israelites  into  two  nations,  would,  if  it  had 
been  true,  have  been  recorded  in  both  histories.  But  though 
men,  in  latter  times,  have  believed  all  that  the  prophets  have 
said  unto  them,  it  does  not  appear  these  prophets  or  histori- 
ans believed  each  other;  they  knew  each  other  too  well. 

A  long  account  also  is  given  in  Kings  about  Elijah.  It 
runs  through  several  chapters,  and  concludes  with  telling,  2 
Kings,  chap.  ii.  ver.  11:  "And  it  came  to  pass  as  they 
(Elijah  and  Elisha)  still  went  on,  and  talked,  that,  behold, 
there  appeared  a  chariot  of  fire  and  horses  of  fire,  and 
parted  them  both  asunder,  and  Elijah  went  up  by  a  whirlwind 
into  heaven"  Hum!  this  the  author  of  Chronicles,  miracu- 
lous as  the  story  is,  makes  no  mention  of,  though  he  men- 
tions Elijah  by  name;  neither  does  he  say  anything  of  the 
story  related  in  the  second  chapter  of  the  same  book  of 
Kings,  of  a  parcel  of  children  calling  Elisha  bald  head,  bald 
head;  and  that  this  man  of  God,  ver.  24,  "  turned  back,  and 
looked  upon  them,  and  cursed  them  in  the  name  of  the  Lord; 
and  there  came  forth  two  she  bears  out  of  the  wood,  and 
tore  forty  and  two  children  of  them."  He  also  passes  over 
in  silence  the  story  told,  2  Kings,  chap,  xiii.,  that  when  they 
were  burying  a  man  in  the  sepulchre,  where  Elisha  had  been 
buried,  it  happened  that  the  dead  man,  as  they  were 
letting  him  down,  (ver.  21,)  "  touched  the  bones  of  Elisha, 
and  he  (the  dead  man)  revived,  and  stood  upon  his  feet" 
The  story  does  not  tell  us  whether  they  buried  the  man 
notwithstanding  he  revived  and  stood  upon  his  feet,  or  drew 


i-AKT  Il.J  TiiK    AGK    OF    KliAHON.  87 

him  up  again.  Upon  all  these  stories  the  writer  of  Chroni- 
cles is  as  silent  as  any  writer  of  the  present  day,  who  did 
not  choose  to  be  accused  of  lying,  or  at  least  of  romancing, 
would  be  about  stories  of  the  same  kind. 

But,  however  these  two  historians  may  differ  from  each 
other,  with  respect  to  the  tales  related  by  either,  they  are 
silent  alike  with  respect  to  those  men  styled  prophets,  whose 
writings  fill  up  the  latter  part  of  the  Bible,  Isaiah,  who 
lived  in  the  time  of  Hezekiah,  is  mentioned  in  Kings,  and 
again  in  Chronicles,  when  these  historians  are  speaking  of 
that  reign;  but  except  in  one  or  two  instances  at  most,  and 
those  very  slightly,  none  of  the  rest  are  so  much  as  spoken 
of,  or  even  hinted  at;  though,  according  to  the  Bible  chro- 
nology, they  lived  within  the  time  those  histories  were 
written;  some  of  them  long  before.  If  those  prophets,  as 
they  are  called,  were  men  of  such  importance  in  then-  day,  as 
the  compilers  of  the  Bible,  and  priests  and  commentators 
have  since  represented  them  to  be,  how  can  it  be  accounted 
for,  that  not  one  of  these  histories  should  say  anything  about 
them? 

The  history  in  the  books  of  Kings  and  of  Chronicles  is 
brought  forward,  as  I  have  already  said,  to  the  year  588 
before  Christ;  it  will,  therefore,  be  proper  to  examine  which 
of  these  prophets  lived  before  that  period. 

Here  follows  a  table  of  all  the  prophets,  with  the  times  in 
which  they  lived  before  Christ,  according  to  the  chronology 
affixed  to  the  first  chapter  of  each  of  the  books  of  the  propn- 
ets;  and  also  of  the  number  of  years  they  lived  before  the 
books  of  Kings  and  Chronicles  were  written. 

This  table  is  either  not  very  honorable  for  the  Bible  his- 
torians, or  not  very  honorable  for  the  Bible  prophets ;  and  I 
leave  to  priests  and  commentators,  who  are  very  learned  in 
little  things,  to  settle  the  point  of  etiquette  between  the  two  ; 
and  to  assign  a  reason,  why  the  authors  of  Kings  and  Chron- 
icles have  treated  those  prophets,  whom  in  the  former  part 
of  the  Age  of  Reason,  I  have  considered  as  poets,  with  as 
much  degrading  silence  as  any  historian  of  the  present  day 
would  treat  Peter  Pindar. 

I  have  one  observation  more  to  make  on  the  Book  of 
Chronicles  ;  after  which  I  shall  pasa  on  to  review  the  remain- 
ing books  of  the  Bible. 


88 


THE    AGK    OF    REASON. 


[PAST  n. 


TabU  qf  the  Prophets,  with  the  time  in  which  they  lived  before 
Christ,  and  also  before  the  books  of  Kings  and  Chronicle* 
were  written. 


IUn*. 

Year*  ;  Ym.  before 
before    Kings  and 
ChrteL  Chronicles. 

OasiHTATiom. 

Ualah 

7«0 

in 

mentioned. 

JeremUk      • 

629 

41 

I    mentioned  only  in  the 
(    last  chap,  of  Cnroo. 

Kitklel                       - 

596 

7 

not  mentioned. 

Daniel 

607 

19 

not  mentioned. 

JH£i" 

785 
800 

97 
212 

not  mentioned, 
not  mentioned. 

AJMM 

789 

199 

not  mentioned. 

ObadUh 

789 

199 

not  men  tin   ed. 

Jonah 

274 

see  the  note* 

Uteri 

7M) 

168 

not  mentioned. 

hah  am 

713 

125 

not  mentioned. 

Hhbskknk 

no 

38 

not  mentioned. 

Zephaniah 

680 

42 

not  mentioned. 

Malachl      f  7e*r  588 

•  IB  2  Kings,  chap.  xlv.  ver.  25,  the  name  of  Jonah  Is  mentioned  on  account 
of  the  restoration  of  a  tract  of  land  by  Jeroboam  ;  bnt  nothing  farther  is  Raid 
of  him.  uor  is  any  allusion  made  to  the  book  of  Jonah,  nor  to  MB  expedition  to 
Nineveh,  nor  to  his  encounter  with  the  whale. 

In  ray  obsvervations  on  the  Book  of  Genesis,  I  have 
quoted  a  passage  from  the  36th  chapter,  verse  31,  which 
evidently  refers  to  a  time  after  that  kings  began  to  reign 
over  the  children  of  Israel  ;  and  I  have  shown  that  as  this 
verse  is  verbatim  the  same  as  in  Chronicles,  chap,  i.,  verse 
43,  where  it  stands  consistently  with  the  order  of  history, 
which  in  Genesis  it  does  not,  that  the  verse  in  Genesis,  and 
a  great  part  of  the  36th  chapter,  have  been  taken  from  Chron- 
icles ;  and  that  the  book  of  Genesis,  though  it  is  placed  first 
in  the  Bible  and  ascribed  to  Moses,  has  been  manufactured 
by  some  unknown  person,  after  the  Book  of  Chronicles  was 
written,  which  was  not  until  at  least  eight  hundred  and  sixty 
years  after  the  time  of  Moses. 

The  evidence  I  proceed  by  to  substantiate  this  i«  regular, 
and  has  in  it  but  two  stages.  First,  as  I  have  already  stated, 
that  the  passage  in  Genesis  refers  itself  for  time  to  Chron- 
icles ;  secondly,  that  the  book  of  Chronicles,  to  which  thia 
passage  refers  itself,  was  not  begun  to  be  written  until  at 
least  eight  hundred  and  sixty  years  after  the  time  of  Moses. 
To  prove  this,  we  have  only  to  look  into  the  thirteenth  ver«« 


PAJtT  II.J  THE   AGE    OF    REA8OM.  89 

of  the  third  chapter  of  the  first  book  of  Chronicles,  where 
the  writer,  in  giving  the  genealogy  of  the  descendants  of 
David,  mentions  Zedekiah  ;  and  it  was  in  the  time  of  Zede- 
kiah,  that  Nebuchadnezzar  conquered  Jerusalem,  588  years 
before  Christ,  and  consequently  more  than  860  years  after 
Moses.  Those  who  have  superstitiously  boasted  of  the  anti- 
quity of  the  Bible,  and  particularly  of  the  books  ascribed  to 
Moses,  have  done  it  without  examination,  and  without  any 
authority  than  that  of  one  credulous  man  telling  it  to  another  ; 
for,  so  far  as  historical  and  chronological  evidence  applies,  the 
very  first  book  in  the  Bible  is  not  so  ancient  as  the  book  of 
Homer,  by  more  than  three  hundred  years,  and  is  about  the 
same  age  with  ^Esop's  Fables. 

I  am  not  contending  for  the  morality  of  Homer;  on  the 
contrary,  I  think  it  a  book  of  false  glory ;  tending  to  inspire 
immoral  and  mischievous  notions  of  honor;  and  with  respect 
to  ^Esop,  though  the  moral  is  in  general  just,  the  fable  is 
often  cruel;  and  the  cruelty  of  the  fable  does  more  injury  to 
the  heart,  especially  in  a  child,  than  the  moral  does  good  to 
the  judgment. 

Having  now  dismissed  Kings  and  Chronicles,  I  come  to 
the  next  in  course,  the  book  of  Ezra. 

As  one  proof,  among  others,  I  shall  produce,  to  show 
the  disorder  in  which  this  pretended  word  of  God,  the 
Bible,  has  been  put  together,  and  the  uncertainty  of  who 
the  authors  were,  we  have  only  to  look  at  the  three  first 
verses  iu  Ezra,  and  the  two  last  in  Chronicles;  for  by  what 
kind  of  cutting  and  shuffling  has  it  been  that  the  three 
first  verses  in  Ezra  should  be  the  two  last  verses  in  Chron- 
icles, or  that  the  two  last  in  Chronicles  should  be  the  three 
first  in  Ezra?  Either  the  authors  did  not  know  their  own 
works,  or  the  compilers  did  not  know  the  authors. 

Two  latt  Vents  of  Chronielet.  Three  first  Verses  of  Eera. 

Ver.  22.    Now  in  the  first  year  Ver.  1.     Now  in  the  first  year 

of  Cyrus,  king  of  Persia,  that  the  of  Cyrus,  kin?  of  Persia,  that  the 

word  of  the  Lord,  spoken  by  the  word  of  the  Lord,  by  the  mouth 

mouth  of   Jeremiah,  might  be  of  Jeremiah,  might  be  fulfilled, 

accomplished,  the   Lord    stirred  the  Lord  stirred  up  the  spirit  of 

op  the  spirit  of  Cyrus,  king  of  Cyrus,  king  of  Persia,  that    he 

Persia,  that  he  made  a  procla-  made  a  proclamation  throughout 

mation  throughout  all  his  king-  all  his  kingdom,  and  put  it  also 

dom,  and  put  it  also  in  writing,  In  writing,  saying, 

SL    Thus  saith  Cyrua,  king  of 


90  TH«    AGE   OF   REASON.  [PART  IL 

23.  Thus  saith  Cyrus,  king  of  Persia,  The  Lord  God  of  heaven 
Persia,  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  hath  given  me  all  the  kingdoms 
earth  hath  the  Lord  God  of  of  the  earth ;  and  he  hath  charg- 
heaven  given  me;  and  he  hath  ed  me  to  build  him  an  house  at 
charged  me  to  build  him  an  Jerusalem,  which  is  in  Judah. 
house  in  Jerusalem  which  is  in  3.  Who  is  there  among  you 
Judah.  Who  is  there  among  of  all  his  people?  his  God  b« 
you  of  his  people?  the  Lord  his  with  him,  and  let  him  go  up,  to 
God  be  with  him,  and  let  him  go  Jerusalem,  which  is  in  JudaJi, 
up.  and  build  the  house  of  the  Lord 

God  of  Israel  (he  is  the  God)  which 

is  in  Jerusalem. 

The  last  Terse  in  Chronicles  is  broken  abruptly,  and  ends 
in  the  middle  of  the  phrase  with  the  word  up,  without  signi- 
fying to  what  place.  This  abrupt  break,  and  the  appearance 
of  the  same  verses  in  the  different  books,  show,  as  I  have 
already  said,  the  disorder  and  ignorance  in  which  the  Bible 
has  been  put  together,  and  that  the  compilers  of  it  had  no 
authority  for  what  they  were  doing,  nor  we  any  authority  for 
believing  what  they  have  done.* 

The  only  thing  that  has  any  appearance  of  certainty  in  the 
book  of  Ezra,  is  the  time  in  which  it  was  written,  which  was 

•I  observed,  an  I  passed  along,  several  broken  and  senselws  passages  In  the 
Bible,  without  thinking  them  of  consequence  enough  to  be  introduced  iti  the  body 
of  the  work;  such  as  that,  1  Samuel,  chap.  xiii.  ver.  1,  where  it  is  said,  "Saul 
reigned  one  year;  and  when  he  had  reigned  two  years  over  Israel,  Saul  chow 
him  three  thousand  men,11  etc.  The  firct  part  of  the  venue,  that  Saul  reigned  one 
year  has  no  sense,  since  it  does  not  tell  as  what  Saul  did,  nor  say  anything  of 
what  happened  at  the  end  of  that  one  year;  and  it  IK,  boi  <!<•*,  mere  absurdity  to 
aav  he  reigned  one  year,  when  the  very  next  phrase  way*  he  had  reigned  two;  for 
If  be  had  reigned  two,  it  was  impossible  not  to  have  reigned  one. 

Another  instance  occurs  in  Joshua,  chap.  v.  where  the  writer  tdls  us  a  story  of 
an  angel  (for  nuch  the  table  of  contents  at  the  head  of  the  chapter  calls  him)  ap- 
pearing nnto  Joshua:  and  the  etory  euds  abruptly,  and  without  any  conclusion. 
The  story  is  an  follows:— Ver.  18,  "And  it  came  to  pass,  when  Joshua  was  by 
Jericho,  that  he  lifted  up  his  eyes  and  looked,  and  behola  there  stood  a  man  over 
against  him  with  his  sword  drawn  In  his  hand;  and  Joshua  went  unto  him  and 
said  unto  him,  An  thon  for  us,  or  for  our  adversaries T'  Vene  14,  "  And  he  said, 
Nay;  but  as  the  captain  of  the  hosts  of  our  Lord  am  I  now  come.  And  Joshua 
fell  on  his  lac«  to  the  earth,  and  did  worship  and  eaid  nnto  him.  What  saith  my 
Lord  unto  hii  servant T"  Verse  16,  "And  the  captuln  of  the  Lord's  host  said 
onto  Joshua,  Loose  thy  shoe  from  off  thy  foot;  for  the  place  whereon  thon  stand- 
ethlsholy.  And  Joshna  did  so."  And  what  then;  nothing,  for  here  the  story 
ends,  and  the  chapter  too. 

Hither  this  story  Is  broken  off  in  the  middle,  or  ills  a  itory  told  by  some  Jewish 
humorist.  In  ridicule  of  Joshua's  pretended  mission  from  God;  and  the  compiler! 
of  the  Bible,  not  perceiving  the  design  of  the  story,  have  told  it  as  a  serious  mat- 
ter. As  a  story  of  humor  and  ridicule,  It  has  H  great  deal  of  point,  for  it  pomponB- 
Iv  Introduces  an  an-rel  In  the  fl<jnre  of  a  mnn.  with  a  drawn  sword  in  hie  hand,  be- 
fore whom  JOB  ua  falls  on  his  face  to  the  earth,  and  worships,  (which  IH  contrary 
to  their  s.  conil  commandment;)  and  then,  this  muoi  Important  embassy  from 
heaven  ends.  In  telling  Joehua  to  pull  off  his  shoe.  It  might  a*  well  have  told 
htm  to  pull  up  his  breeches. 

It  Is  certain,  however,  that  the  Jews  did  not  credit  everything  their  leaden  told 
them,  as  appears  from  the  cavalier  manner  In  which  tin  v  speak  of  Moses,  when 
be  w».  goDe  Into  the  mount.  "  A*  for  this  Mo»e«,"  «»y  they.  "  w«  wot  not  what  if 
Wcorn*  t/hlm."  Kxod  chap,  mil  ver.  L 


PABT  II.] 


THE   AGE   OF    SEASON. 


91 


immediately  after  the  return  of  the  Jews  from  the  Babylon- 
ian captivity,  about  536  years  before  Christ.  Ezra  (who, 
according  to  the  Jewish  commentators,  is  the  same  person 
as  is  called  Esdras  in  the  Apocrypha)  was  one  of  the  per- 
sons who  returned,  and  who,  it  is  probable,  wrote  the  account 
of  that  affair.  Nehemiah,  whose  book  follows  next  to  Ezra, 
was  another  of  the  returned  persons;  and  who,  it  is  also 
probable,  wrote  the  account  of  the  same  affair,  in  the  book 
that  bears  his  name.  But  those  accounts  are  nothing  to  us, 
nor  to  any  other  persons,  unless  it  be  to  the  Jews,  as  a  part 
of  the  history  of  their  nation;  and  there  is  just  as  much  of 
the  word  of  God  in  those  books  as  there  is  in  any  of  the  his- 
tories of  France,  or  Rapin's  history  of  England,  or  the  history 
of  any  other  country. 

But  even  in  matters  of  historical  record,  neither  of  those 
writers  are  to  be  depended  upon.  In  the  second  chapter 
of  Ezra,  the  writer  gives  a  list  of  the  tribes  and  families,  and 
of  the  precise  number  of  souls  of  each  that  returned  from 
Babylon  to  Jerusalem;  and  this  enrollment  of  the  persons  so 
returned  appears  to  have  been  one  of  the  principal  objects 
for  writing  the  book,  but  in  this  there  is  an  error  that  destroys 
the  intention  of  the  undertaking. 

The  writer  begins  his  enrolment  in  the  following  man- 
ner, chap,  ii.,  ver.  3:  "The  children  of  Parosh,  two  thousand 
one  hundred  seventy  and  four."  Ver.  4:  "  The  children  of 
Shephatiah,  three  hundred  seventy  and  two."  And  in  this 
manner  he  proceeds  through  all  the  families;  and  in  the  64th 
verse  he  makes  a  total,  and  says,  the  whole  congregation 
together  was  forty  and  two  thousand  three  hundred  and 
three  score. 


Chap.  11. 
Verie.      8, 

1,172 

Bro't  forward,  11,577 
Ver.    13,               666 

Bro't  forward,  15,783 
V«r.    23,                 128 

Bro't  forw'd,  19.444 
er.    83,             726 

t 

873 

14, 

t.056 

2? 

42 

84,             345 

ft, 

775 

15, 

464 

25, 

743 

85,           1,630 

fc 

8,812 
1,254 

a 

08 
823 

2«, 

87, 

621 
122 

86,              973 
87,            1,053 

8, 

945 

18, 

112 

28, 

223 

88|            l|247 

», 

760 

1», 

823 

*9, 

52 

U,            1,017 

10, 

643 

20, 

90 

•o, 

Ifi6 

4$                74 

11, 

•23 

21, 

It? 

«, 

1,254 

41,              128 

1* 

U2* 

tt, 

66 

Mb 

«*> 

42,                130 
M,              808 

aO,               668 

11,177 

W.T8S 

11,444 

Total,          28,818 

92  THK    AOK   OF    KEA8ON.  [PAJBT  O. 

But,  whoever  will  take  the  trouble  of  casting  up  the  sev- 
eral particulars,  will  find  that  the  total  is  but  29,818;  so  that 
the  error  is  12,542.*  What  certainty,  then,  can  there  be  in 
the  Bible  for  anything? 

Nehemiah,  in  like  manner,  gives  a  list  of  the  returned 
families,  and  of  the  number  of  each  family.  He  begins,  as 
in  Ezra,  by  saying,  chap,  vii.,  ver.  8:  "The  children  of  Pa- 
rosh,  two  thousand  three  hundred  and  seventy- two";  and 
so  on  through  all  the  families.  The  list  differs  in  several 
of  the  particulars  from  that  of  Ezra.  In  the  66th  verse, 
Nehemiah  makes  a  total,  and  says,  as  Ezra  had  said:  "  The 
whole  congregation  together  was  forty  and  two  thousand 
three  hundred  and  three  score."  But  the  particulars  of 
this  list  make  a  total  of  but  31,089,  so  that  the  error  here 
is  11,271.  These  writers  may  do  well  enough  for  Bible- 
makers,  but  not  for  anything  where  truth  and  exactness  is 
necessary.  The  next  book  in  course  is  the  book  of  Esther. 
If  Madam  Esther  thought  it  any  honor  to  offer  herself  as  a 
kept  mistress  to  Ahasuerus,  or  as  a  rival  to  Queen  Vashti, 
who  had  refused  to  come  to  a  drunken  king,  in  the  midst 
of  a  drunken  company,  to  be  made  a  show  of,  (for  the  account 
says  they  had  been  drinking  seven  days,  and  were  merry,) 
let  Esther  and  Mordecai  look  to  that,  it  is  no  business  of 
ours — at  least,  it  is  none  of  mine;  besides  which  the  story 
has  a  great  deal  the  appearance  of  being  fabulous,  and  is 
also  anonymous.  I  pass  on  to  the  book  of  Job. 

The  book  of  Job  differs  in  character  from  all  the  books 
we  have  hitherto  passed  over.  Treachery  and  murder  make 
no  part  of  this  book;  it  is  the  meditations  of  a  mind  strongly 
impressed  with  the  vicissitudes  of  human  life,  and  by  turns 
•inking  under  and  struggling  against  the  pressure.  It  is 
a  highly-wrought  composition,  between  willing  submission 
and  involuntary  discontent;  and  shows  man,  as  he  some- 
times is,  more  disposed  to  be  resigned  than  he  is  capable 
of  being.  Patience  has  but  a  small  share  in  the  character 
of  the  person  of  whom  the  book  treats;  on  the  contrary, 
hia  grief  is  often  impetuous,  but  he  still  endeavors  to  keep 
a  guard  upon  it,  and  seems  determined,  in  the  midst  of  accu- 
mulating ills,  to  impose  upon  himself  the  hard  duty  of  con- 
tentment. 

I  have  spoken  in  a  respectful  manner  of  th«  book  of  Job 

•  /"/.-wuian  of  Ou  famUle*  fro**  th*  teeond  c/iaptir  of  *»••• 


PJLBT  II.]  THE   AGK   OF    BEA8OH.  93 

in  the  former  part  of  the  Aye  of  Reason,  but  without  know- 
ing, at  that  time,  what  I  have  learned  since;  which  is  that, 
from  all  the  evidence  that  can  be  collected,  the  book  of  Job 
does  not  belong  to  the  Bible. 

I  have  seen  the  opinion  of  two  Hebrew  commentators, 
Abenezra  and  Spinoza,  upon  this  subject;  they  both  say 
that  the  book  of  Job  carries  no  internal  evidence  of  being 
a  Hebrew  book;  that  the  genius  of  the  composition,  and 
the  drama  of  the  piece,  are  not  Hebrew;  that  it  has  been 
translated  from  another  language  into  Hebrew,  and  that  the 
author  of  the  book  ws  „  vrentile;  that  the  character  rep- 
resented under  the  name  of  Satan  (which  is  the  first  and 
only  time  this  name  is  mentioned  in  the  Bible)  does  not 
correspond  to  any  Hebrew  idea;  and  that  the  two  convoca- 
tions which  the  Deity  is  supposed  to  have  made  of  those 
whom  the  poem  calls  sons  of  God,  and  the  familiarity  which 
this  supposed  Satan  is  stated  to  have  with  the  Deity,  are  in 
the  same  case. 

It  may  also  be  observed  that  the  book  shows  itself  to  be 
the  production  of  a  mini  cultivated  in  science,  which  the 
Jews,  so  far  from  being  famous  for,  were  very  ignorant  of, 
the  allusions  to  objects  of  natural  philosophy  are  frequent 
and  strong,  and  are  of  a  different  cast  to  anything  in  the 
books  known  to  be  Hebrew.  The  astronomical  names, 
Pleiades,  Orion,  and  Arcturus,  are  Greek  and  not  Hebrew 
names,  and  it  does  not  appear  from  anything  that  is  to  be 
found  in  the  Bible,  that  the  Jews  knew  anything  of  astron- 
omy, or  that  they  studied  it;  they  had  no  translation  of  those 
names  into  their  own  language,  but  adopted  the  names  as 
they  found  them  in  the  poem. 

That  the  Jews  did  translate  the  literary  productions 
of  the  Gentile  nations  into  the  Hebrew  language,  and  mix 
them  with  their  own,  is  not  a  matter  of  doubt;  the  thirty- 
first  chapter  of  Proverbs  is  an  evidence  of  this;  it  is  there 
said,  ver.  1,  The  word  of  king  Lemuel,  the  prophecy  which 
his  mother  taught  him.  This  verse  stands  as  a  preface  to 
the  proverbs  that  follow,  and  which  are  not  the  proverbs  of 
Solomon,  but  of  Lemuel;  and  this  Lemuel  was  not  one  of 
,  the  kings  of  Israel,  nor  of  Judah,  but  of  some  other  country, 
and  consequently  a  Gentile.  The  Jews,  however,  have 
adopted  his  proverbs,  and  as  thay  cannot  give  any  account 
who  the  author  of  the  book  of  Job  was,  or  how  they  came 


94  THE   AGE   OF   BKASOH.  [PABT  O. 

by  the  book;  and  as  it  differs  in  character  from  the  Hebrew 
writings,  and  stands  totally  unconnected  with  every  other 
book  and  chapter  in  the  Bible,  before  it,  and  after  it,  it  has 
all  the  circumstantial  evidence  of  being  originally  a  book 
of  the  Gentiles.* 

The  Bible-makers,  and  those  regulators  of  time,  the  chro- 
nologists,  appear  to  have  been  at  a  loss  where  to  place  or 
how  to  dispose  of  the  book  of  Job;  for  it  contains  no  one 
historical  circumstance,  nor  allusion  to  any,  that  might  serve 
to  determine  its  place  in  the  Bib.f*  But  it  would  not  have 
answered  the  purpose  of  these  men  to  ua,ve  informed  the  world 
of  their  ignorance;  and,  therefore,  they  have  affixed  it  to  the 
aera  of  1520  years  before  Christ,  which  is  during  the  time 
the  Israelites  were  in  Egypt,  and  for  which  they  have 
just  as  much  authority  and  no  more  than  I  should  have  for 
saying  it  was  a  thousand  years  before  that  period.  The 
probability,  however,  is,  that  it  is  older  than  any  book  in  the 
Bible;  and  it  is  the  only  one  that  can  be  read  without  indig- 
nation or  disgust. 

We  know  nothing  of  what  the  ancient  Gentile  world  (aa 
it  is  called)  was  before  the  time  of  the  Jews,  whose  practice 
has  been  to  calumniate  and  blacken  the  character  of  all 
other  nations;  and  it  is  from  the  Jewish  accounts  that  we 
have  learned  to  call  them  heathens.  But,  as  far  as  we  know 
to  the  contrary,  they  were  a  just  and  moral  people,  and  not 
addicted,  like  the  Jews,  to  cruelty  and  revenge,  but  of  whoso 
profession  of  faith  we  are  unacquainted.  It  appears  to  have 
been  their  custom  to  personify  both  virtue  and  vice  by 
statues  and  images,  as  is  done  now-a-days  both  by  statuary 
and  by  painting;  but  it  does  not  follow  from  this,  that  they 
worshiped  them  any  more  than  we  do.  I  pass  on  to  the 
book  of 

•The  prayer  known  by  the  name  of  Agvr't  Prayer.  In  the  80th  chapter  of 
Proverbs,  immediately  preceding  the  proverbs  of  Lemuel,  and  which  is  the  only 
•ensible,  well-conceived,  and  well-expressed  prayer  in  the  Bible,  has  much  the 
appearance  of  being  a  prayer  taken  from  the  Gentiles.  The  name  of  Agur  occur* 
on  no  other  occasion  than  this;  and  he  is  introduced,  together  with  the  prayer 
ascribed  to  him,  in  the  same  manner,  and  nearly  in  the  same  words,  that  Lemuel 
and  his  proverbs  are  introduced  in  the  chapter  that  follows.  The  first  verse  of 
the  SOth  chapter  says,  "The  words  of  Agur,  the  son  of  Jakeh,  even  the  prophecy;" 
here  the  word  prophecy  is  used  with  the  same  application  it  has  in  the  following 
chapter  of  Lemuel,  unconnected  with  anything  of  prediction.  The  prayer  of 
Agnr  in  In  the  8th  and  9th  verses,  "  Remove  far  from  me  vanity  and  liet ;  give 
me  neither  ticket  nor  poverty,  but  feed  me  with  food' convenient  for  me;  lest  I 
be  full  and  deny  thee,  and  lay,  Who  it  the  Lord?  or  lett  I  be  poor  and  iteal, 
and  tak«  the  nam*  of  my  God  in  rain."  This  has  not  any  of  the  marks  ol 
being  a  Jewish  prayer,  for  the  Jews  never  pia»pd  but  wher  they  were  in  trouble, 
and  never  for  anything  but  victory,  vengeance  and  riches. 


PAST  n.J  THE   AGE   OF   BEASON.  95 

Psalms,  of  which  it  is  not  necessary  to  make  much  ob- 
servation. Some  of  them  are  moral,  and  others  are  very 
revengeful;  and  the  greater  part  relate  to  certain  local 
circumstances  of  the  Jewish  nation  at  the  time  they  were 
written,  with  which  we  have  nothing  to  do.  It  is,  however, 
an  error  or  an  imposition  to  call  them  the  Psalms  of  David; 
they  are  a  collection,  as  song  books  are  now-a-days,  from 
different  song  writers,  who  lived  at  different  times.  The 
137th  Psalm  could  not  have  been  written  till  more  than 
400  years  after  the  time  of  David,  because  it  was  written 
in  commemoration  of  an  event,  the  captivity  of  the  Jews 
in  Babylon,  which  did  not  happen  till  that  distance  of  time. 
"  By  the  rivers  of  Babylon  we  sat  down;  yea,  we  wept  when 
toe  remembered  Zion.  We  hanged  our  harps  upon  the  wil- 
lows, in  the  midst  thereof-  for  there  they  that  had  carried 
us  away  captive  required  of  us  a&ong,  saying,  Sing  us  one  of 
the  songs  of  Zion"  As  a  man  would  say  to  an  American,  or 
to  a  Frenchman,  or  to  an  Englishman,  Sing  us  one  of  your 
American  songs,  or  of  your  French  songs,  or  of  your 
English  songs.  This  remark  with  respect  to  the  time  this 
Psalm  was  written,  is  of  no  other  use  than  to  show  (among 
others  already  mentioned)  the  general  imposition  the  world 
has  been  under,  with  respect  to  the  authors  of  the  Bible. 
No  regard  has  been  paid  to  time,  place,  and  circumstance; 
and  the  names  of  persons  have  been  affixed  to  the  several 
books,  which  it  was  as  impossible  they  should  write,  as  that  a 
man  should  walk  in  procession  at  his  own  funeral. 

The  Book  of  Proverbs.  These,  like  the  Psalms,  are  a 
collection,  and  that  from  authors  belonging  to  other  nations 
than  those  of  the  Jewish  nation,  as  I  have  shown  in  the  ob- 
servations upon  the  book  of  Job;  besides  which,  some  of  the 
proverbs  ascribed  to  Solomon  did  not  appear  till  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  years  after  the  death  of  Solomon  ;  for  it  is 
said  in  the  1st  verse  of  the  25th  chapter,  "  These  are  also 
proverbs  of  Solomon,  which  the  men  of  Hezekiah,  king  of 
Judah,  copied  out"  It  was  two  hundred  and  fifty  years 
from  the  time  of  Solomon  to  the  time  of  Hezekiah.  When 
a  man  is  famous  and  his  name  is  abroad,  he  is  made  the  puta- 
tive father  of  things  he  never  said  or  did  ;  and  this,  most 
probably,  has  been  the  case  with  Solomon.  It  appears  to 
nave  been  the  fashion  of  that  day  to  make  proverbs,  as  it  is 
now  to  make  jest-books,  and  father  them  upon  those  who 
never  saw  them 


96  THE    AGE    OF    REASON.  [pAKT  U. 

The  book  of  Ecclesiastea,  or  the  Preacher,  is  also  ascribed 
to  Solomon,  and  that  with  much  reason,  if  not  with  truth.  It  is 
written  as  the  solitary  reflections  of  a  worn-out  debauchee, 
such  as  Solomon  was,  who  looking  back  on  scenes  he  can  no 
longer  enjoy,  cries  out,  All  is  vanity  I  A  great  deal  of  the 
metaphor  and  of  the  sentiment  is  obscure,  most  probably  by 
translation  ;  but  enough  is  left  to  show  they  were  strongly 
pointed  in  the  original.*  From  what  is  transmitted  to  us  of 
the  character  of  Solomon,  he  was  witty,  ostentatious,  disso- 
lute, and  at  last  melancholy.  He  lived  fast,  and  died,  tired 
of  the  world,  at  the  age  of  fifty-eight  years. 

Seven  hundred  wives,  and  three  hundred  concubines,  are 
worse  than  none;  and  however  it  may  carry  with  it  the  ap- 
pearance of  heightened  enjoyment,  it  defeats  all  the  felicity 
of  affection,  by  leaving  it  no  point  to  fix  upon  ;  divided  love 
is  never  happy.  This  was  the  case  with  Solomon  ;  and  if 
he  could  not,  with  all  his  pretensions  to  wisdom,  discover  it 
beforehand,  he  merited,  unpitied,  the  mortification  he  after- 
wards endured.  In  this  point  of  view,  his  preaching  is  un- 
necessary, because,  to  know  the  consequences  it  is  only 
necessary  to  know  the  cause.  Seven  hundred  wives,  and 
three  hundred  concubines,  would  have  stood  in  place  of  the 
whole  book.  It  was  needless  after  this  to  say  that  all  was 
vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit ;  for  it  is  impossible  to  derive 
happiness  from  the  company  of  those  whom  we  deprive  of 
happiness. 

To  be  happy  in  old  age  it  is  necessary  that  we  accustom 
ourselves  to  objects  that  can  accompany  the  mind  all  the  way 
through  life,  and  that  we  take  the  rest  as  good  in  their  day. 
The  mere  man  of  pleasure  is  miserable  in  old  age  ;  and  the 
mere  drudge  in  business  is  but  little  better;  whereas,  natural 
philosophy,  mathematical  and  mechanical  science,  are  a  con- 
tinual source  of  tranquil  pleasure;  and  in  spite  of  the  gloomy 
dogmas  of  priests,  and  of  superstition,  the  study  of  those 
things  is  the  study  of  the  true  theology;  it  teaches  man  to 
know  and  admire  the  Creator,  for  the  principles  of  science 
are  in  creation,  and  are  unchangeable,  and  of  divine  origin. 

Those  who  knew  Benjamin  Franklin  will  recollect,  that 
his  mind  was  ever  young;  his  temper  ever  serene  ;  science, 
that  never  grows  gray,  was  always  his  mistress.  He  was 


PART  II.]  THE    AGE    OF    REASON.  97 

never  without  an  object,  for  when  we  cease  to  have  an 
object,  we  become  like  an  invalid  in  an  hospital  waiting  for 
death. 

Solomon's  Songs  are  amorous  and  foolish  enough,  but 
which  wrinkled  fanaticism  has  called  divine.  The  compilers 
of  the  Bible  have  placed  these  songs  after  the  book  of  Eccle- 
siastes ;  and  the  chronologists  have  affixed  to  them  the  sera 
of  1014  years  before  Christ,  at  which  time  Solomon,  accord- 
ing to  the  same  chronology,  was  nineteen  years  of  age,  and 
was  then  forming  his  seraglio  of  wives  and  concubines. 
The  Bible-makers  and  the  chronologists  should  have  man- 
aged this  matter  a  little  better,  and  either  have  said  nothing 
about  the  time,  or  chosen  a  time  less  inconsistent  with  the 
supposed  divinity  of  those  songs ;  for  Solomon  was  then  in 
the  honeymoon  of  one  thousand  debaucheries. 

It  should  also  have  occurred  to  them,  that  as  he  wrote, 
if  he  did  write  the  book  of  Ecclesiastes,  long  after  these 
songs,  and  in  which  he  exclaims  that  all  is  vanity  and  vex- 
ation of  spirit ;  that  he  included  those  songs  in  that  descrip- 
tion. This  is  the  more  probable,  because  he  says,  or  some- 
body for  him,  Ecclesiastes,  chap,  ii.:  v.  8:  "  I  got  me  men 
singers  and  women  singer*  (most  probably  to  sing  those 
songs),  and  musical  instruments  of  all  sort*;  and  behold  (v. 
11),  all  was  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit."  The  compilers, 
however,  have  done  their  work  but  by  halves;  for  as  they 
have  given  us  the  songs,  they  should  have  given  us  the 
tunes,  that  we  might  sing  them. 

The  books  called  the  books  of  the  Prophets,  fill  up  all 
the  remaining  parts  of  the  Bible;  they  are  sixteen  in  num- 
ber, beginning  with  Isaiah  and  ending  with  Malachi,  of 
which  I  have  given  you  a  list  in  my  observations  upon 
Chronicles.  Of  these  sixteen  prophets,  all  of  whom,  except 
the  three  last,  lived  within  the  time  the  books  of  Kings  and 
Chronicles  were  written;  two  only,  Isaiah  and  Jeremiah, 
are  mentioned  in  the  history  of  those  books.  I  shall  begin 
with  those  two,  reserving  what  I  have  to  say  on  the  general 
character  of  the  men  called  prophets  to  another  part  of  the 
work. 

Whoever  will  take  the  trouble  of  reading  the  book 
ascribed  to  Isaiah,  will  find  it  one  of  the  most  wild  and 
disorderly  compositions  ever  put  together;  it  has  neither 
beginning,  middle,  nor  end;  and,  except  a  short  historical 


98  THE    AGE    OF    REASON.  [PART  n. 

part,  and  a  few  sketches  of  history  in  two  or  three  of  the 
first  chapters,  is  one  continued,  incoherent,  bombastical 
rant,  full  of  extravagant  metaphor  without  application,  and 
destitute  of  meaning;  a  school-boy  would  scarcely  have  been 
excusable  for  writing  such  stuff;  it  is  (at  least  in  transla- 
tion) that  kind  of  composition  and  false  taste  that  is  properly 
called  prose  run  mad. 

The  historical  part  begins  at  the  36th  chap.,  and  is  con- 
tinued to  the  end  of  the  39th  chap.  It  relates  to  some 
matters  that  are  said  to  have  passed  during  the  reign  of  Hez- 
ekiah,  King  of  Judah,  at  which  time  Isaiah  lived.  This  frag- 
ment of  history  begins  and  ends  abruptly;  it  has  not  the 
least  connection  with  the  chapter  that  precedes  it,  nor  with 
that  which  follows  it,  nor  with  any  other  in  the  book.  It  is 
probable  that  Isaiah  wrote  this  fragment  himself,  because 
he  was  an  actor  in  the  circumstances  it  treats  of;  but,  except 
this  part,  there  are  scarcely  two  chapters  that  have  any  con- 
nection with  each  other;  one  is  entitled,  at  the  beginning  of 
the  first  verse,  the  burden  of  Baby  Ion;  another,  the  burden  of 
Moab;  another,  the  burden  of  Damascus;  another,  the  bur- 
den of  Egypt;  another,  the  burden  of  the  Desert  of  the  Sea; 
another,  the  burden  of  the  Valley  of  Vision;  as  you  would 
say,  the  story  of  the  knight  of  the  burning  mountain,  the 
story  of  Cinderella,  or  the  Children  of  the  Wood,  etc.,  etc. 

I  have  already  shown,  in  the  instance  of  the  two  last 
verses  of  Chronicles,  and  the  three  first  in  Ezra,  that  the 
compilers  of  the  Bible  mixed  and  confounded  the  writings 
of  different  authors  with  each  other,  which  alone,  were 
there  no  other  cause,  is  sufficient  to  destroy  the  authenticity 
of  any  compilation,  because  it  is  more  than  presumptive 
evidence  that  the  compilers  are  ignorant  who  the  authors 
were.  A  very  glaring  instance  of  this  occurs  in  the  book 
ascribed  to  Isaiah.  The  latter  part  of  the  44th  chapter,  and 
the  beginning  of  the  45th,  so  far  from  having  been  written 
by  Isaiah,  could  only  have  been  written  by  some  person 
who  lived  at  least  an  hundred  and  fifty  years  after  Isaiah 
was  dead. 

These  chapters  are  a  compliment  to  Oyrus,  who  permitted 
the  Jews  to  return  to  Jerusalem  from  the  Babylonian  cap- 
tivity, to  rebuild  Jerusalem  and  the  temple,  as  is  stated  in 
Ezra,  The  last  verse  of  the  44th  chapter,  and  the  beginning 
of  the  45th,  are  in  the  following  words:  "  That  saith  of 


PART  n.]  THE   AGE   OF   SEASON.  99 

Cyrus,  he  is  my  shepherd,  and  shall  perform  all  my  pleasure; 
even  saying  to  Jerusalem,  thou  shall  be  built;  and  to  the 
temple  thy  foundations  shall  be  laid;  thus  saith  the  Lord  to 
his  anointed,  to  Cyrus,  whose  right  hand  I  have  holden  to 
subdue  nations  before  him,  and  I  will  loose  the  loint  of 
kings  to  open  before  him  the  two-leaved  gates,  and  the  gate* 
shall  not  be  shut;  I  will  go  before  thee,"  etc. 

What  audacity  of  church  and  priestly  ignorance  it  is  to 
impose  this  book  upon  the  world  as  the  writing  of  Isaiah, 
when  Isaiah,  according  to  their  own  chronology,  died  soon 
after  the  death  of  Hezekiah,  which  was  698  years  before 
Christ;  and  the  decree  of  Cyrus,  in  favor  of  the  Jews  re- 
turning to  Jerusalem  was,  according  to  the  same  chronology, 
536  years  before  Christ;  which  was  a  distance  of  time  be- 
tween the  two  of  162  years.  I  do  not  suppose  that  the  com- 
pilers of  the  Bible  made  these  books,  but  rather  that  they 
picked  up  some  loose  anonymous  essays,  and  put  them 
together  under  the  names  of  such  authors  as  best  suited 
their  purpose.  They  have  encouraged  the  imposition,  which 
is  next  to  inventing  it;  for  it  was  impossible  but  they  must 
have  observed  it. 

When  we  see  the  studied  craft  of  the  scripture-makers, 
in  making  every  part  of  this  romantic  book  of  school-boy'i 
eloquence  bend  to  the  monstrous  idea  of  a  Son  of  God, 
begotten  by  a  ghost  on  the  body  of  a  virgin,  there  is  no 
imposition  we  are  not  justified  in  suspecting  them  of. 
Every  phrase  and  circumstance  are  marked  with  the  barbar- 
ous hand  of  superstitious  torture,  and  forced  into  meanings 
it  was  impossible  they  could  have.  The  head  of  every 
chapter,  the  top  of  every  page,  are  blazoned  with  the  names 
of  Christ  and  the  Church,  that  the  unwary  reader  might  suck 
in  the  error  before  he  began  to  read. 

Behold  a  virgin  shall  conceive,  and  bear  a  ton,  Isaiah, 
chap.  vii.  ver.  14,  has  been  interpreted  to  mean  the  person 
called  Jesus  Christ,  and  his  mother  Mary,  and  has  been 
echoed  through  Christendom  for  more  than  a  thousand  years; 
and  such  has  been  the  rage  of  this  opinion,  that  scarcely  a 
spot  in  it  but  has  been  stained  with  blood  and  marked  with 
desolation  in  consequence  of  it.  Though  it  is  not  my  inten- 
tion to  enter  into  controversy  on  subjects  of  this  kind,  but 
to  confine  myself  to  show  that  the  Bible  is  spurious;  and 
thus,  by  taking  away  the  foundation,  to  overthrow  at  once 


100  THE   AGE   OF   REASON.  [PAKT  IL 

me  whole  structure  of  superstition  raised  thereon;  I  will, 
however,  stop  a  moment  to  expose  the  fallacious  application 
of  this  passage. 

Whether  Isaiah  was  playing  a  trick  with  Ahaz,  king  of 
Judah,  to  whom  this  passage  is  spoken,  is  no  business  of 
mine;  I  mean  only  to  show  the  misapplication  of  the  pas- 
sage, and  that  it  has  no  more  reference  to  Christ  and  his 
mother,  than  it  has  to  me  and  my  mother.  The  story  is 
simply  this: 

The  king  of  Syria  and  the  king  of  Israel  (I  have  already 
mentioned  that  the  Jews  were  split  into  two  nations,  one  of 
which  was  called  Judah,  the  capital  of  which  was  Jerusalem, 
and  the  other  Israel)  made  war  jointly  against  Ahaz,  king  of 
Judah,  and  marched  their  armies  toward  Jerusalem.  Ahaz 
and  his  people  became  alarmed,  and  account  says,  verse  2, 
u  Their  hearts  were  moved  as  the  trees  of  the  wood  are  moved 
with  the  wind." 

In  this  situation  of  things,  Isaiah  addresses  himself  to 
Ahaz,  and  assures  him  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  (the  cant 
phrase  of  all  the  prophets)  that  these  two  kings  should  not 
succeed  against  him;  and  to  satisfy  Ahaz  that  this  should  be 
the  case,  tells  him  to  ask  a  sign.  This,  the  account  says, 
Ahaz  declined  doing;  giving  as  a  reason  that  he  would  not 
tempt  the  Lord;  upon  which  Isaiah,  who  is  the  speaker, 
says,  ver.  44,  "  Therefore  the  Lord  himself  shall  give  you  a 
sign;  behold  a  virgin  shall  conceive  and  bear  a  son,  and  the 
16th  verse  says,  "  And  before  this  child  shall  know  to  refuse 
the  evil,  and  chuse  the  good,  the  land  which  thou  abhorrest 
or  dreadest  (meaning  Syria  and  the  kingdom  of  Israel)  shall 
be  forsaken  of  both  her  kings."  Here  then'  was  the  sign, 
and  the  time  limited  for  the  completion  of  the  assurance  or 
promise;  namely,  before  this  child  should  know  to  refuse  the 
evil  and  chuse  the  good. 

Isaiah  having  committed  himself  thus  far,  it  became  neces- 
sary to  him,  in  order  to  avoid  the  imputation  of  being  a  false 
prophet,  and  the  consequence  thereof,  to  take  measures  to 
make  this  sign  appear.  It  certainly  was  not  a  difficult  thing, 
in  any  time  of  the  world,  to  find  a  girl  with  child,  or  to  make 
her  so;  and  perhaps  Isaiah  knew  of  one  beforehand;  for  I  do 
not  suppose  the  prophets  of  that  day  were  any  more  to  be 
trusted  than  the  priests  of  this,  be  that,  however,  as  it  may, 
b*  iayt  in  the  next  chapter,  ver.  2,  "  And  I  took  unto  me 


PABT  H.]  THE  AGE  OP  REASON.  101 

faithful  witnesses  to  record,  Uriah  the  priest,  and  Zechariah 
the  son  of  Jeberechiah,  and  I  went  unto  the  prophetess*  and 
she  conceived  and  bare  a  son." 

Here  then  is  the  whole  story,  foolish  as  it  is,  of  this  child, 
and  this  virgin;  and  it  is  upon  the  barefaced  perversion  of 
this  story,  that  the  book  of  Matthew,  and  the  impudence  and 
sordid  interest  of  priests  in  later  times,  have  founded  a 
theory  which  they  call  the  gospel;  and  have  applied  this 
story  to  signify  the  person  they  call  Jesus  Christ,  begotten, 
they  say,  by  a  ghost,  whom  they  call  holy,  on  the  body  of  a 
woman,  engaged  in  marriage,  and  afterwards  married,  whom 
they  call  a  virgin,  700  years  after  this  foolish  story  was  told; 
a  theory  which,  speaking  for  myself,  I  hesitate  not  to  believe, 
and  to  say,  is  as  fabulous  and  false  as  God  is  true.* 

But  to  show  the  imposition  and  falsehood  of  Isaiah,  we 
have  only  to  attend  to  the  sequel  of  this  story;  which, 
though  it  is  passed  over  in  silence  in  the  book  of  Isaiah,  ia 
related  in  the  28th  chapter  of  the  second  Chronicles;  and 
which  is,  that  instead  of  these  two  kings  failing  in  their  at- 
tempt against  Ahaz,  king  of  Judah,  as  Isaiah  had  pretended 
to  foretell  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  they  succeeded;  Ahaz  waa 
defeated  and  destroyed  ;  a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  of 
his  people  were  slaughtered  ;  Jerusalem  was  plundered,  and 
two  hundred  thousand  women,  and  sons  and  daughters,  car- 
ried into  captivity.  Thus  much  for  this  lying  prophet  and 
impostor  Isaiah,  and  the  book  of  falsehoods  that  bears  his 
name.  I  pass  on  to  the  book  of 

Jeremiah.  This  prophet,  as  he  is  called,  lived  in  the  time 
that  Nebuchadnezzar  besieged  Jerusalem,  in  the  reign  of 
Zedekiah,  the  last  king  of  Judah;  and  the  suspicion  was 
strong  against  him,  that  he  was  a  traitor  in  the  interest  of 
Nebuchadnezzar.  Everything  relating  to  Jeremiah  shows 
him  to  have  been  a  man  of  an  equivocal  character  :  in  his 
metaphor  of  the  potter  and  the  clay,  chap,  xvii.,  he  guards 
his  prognostications  in  such  a  crafty  manner,  as  always  to 
leave  himself  a  door  to  escape  by,  in  case  the  event  should 
be  contrary  to  what  he  had  predicted. 

In  the  7th  and  8th  verses  of  that  chapter,  he  makes  the 
Almighty  to  say,  "  At  what  instant  I  shall  speak  concerning 

•In  the  14th  ycree  of  the  7th  chapter,  It  is  said,  that  the  child  should  be  called 
Immanuol ;  but  this  name  was  not  given  to  either  of  the  children,  otherwise  than 
as  a  character  which  the  word  •ignifle*.  That  of  the  propheteaa  was  called 
Maher-»haial-ba8h  bax,  aud  that  of  Mary  was  called  Jesus. 


102  THE   AGB  OF   BBA8ON.  [FUST  II. 

a  nation,  and  concerning  a  kingdom,  to  pluck  up,  and  to  pull 
down,  and  destroy  it :  if  that  nation,  against  whom  I  have 
pronounced,  turn  from  their  evil,  I  will  repent  me  of  the 
evil  that  I  thought  to  do  unto  them."  Here  was  a  proviso 
against  one  side  of  the  case  :  now  for  the  other  side. 

Verses  9  and  10,  "  At  what  instant  I  shall  speak  concern- 
ing a  nation  and  concerning  a  kingdom,  to  build  and  to 
plant  it,  if  it  do  evil  in  my  sight,  that  it  obey  not  my  voice  : 
then  I  will  repent  me  of  the  good  wherewith  I  said  I  would 
benefit  them."  Here  is  a  proviso  against  the  other  side;  and, 
according  to  his  plan  of  prophesying,  a  prophet  could  never 
be  wrong,  however  mistaken  the  Almighty  might  be.  This 
sort  of  absurd  subterfuge,  and  this  manner  of  speaking  of 
the  Almighty,  as  one  would  speak  of  a  man,  is  consistent 
with  nothing  but  the  stupidity  of  the  Bible. 

As  to  the  authenticity  of  the  book,  it  is  only  necessary  to 
read  it  in  order  to  decide  positively,  that,  though  some  pas- 
sages recorded  therein  may  have  been  spoken  by  Jeremiah, 
he  is  not  the  author  of  the  book.  The  historical  parts,  if 
they  can  be  called  by  that  name,  are  in  the  most  confused 
condition  ;  the  same  events  are  several  times  repeated,  and 
that  in  a  manner  diiFerent,  and  sometimes  in  contradiction 
to  each  other;  and  this  disorder  runs  even  to  the. last  chapter, 
where  the  history,  upon  which  the  greater  part  of  the  book 
has  been  employed,  begins  anew,  and  ends  abruptly.  The 
book  has  all  the  appearance  of  being  a  medley  of  uncon- 
nected anecdotes,  respecting  persons  and  things  of  that  time, 
collected  together  in  the  same  rude  manner  as  if  the  various 
and  contradictory  accounts,  that  are  to  be  found  in  a  bundle 
of  newspapers,  respecting  persons  and  things  of  the  present 
day,  were  put  together  without  date,  order,  or  explanation. 
I  will  give  two  or  three  examples  of  this  kind. 

It  appears,  from  the  account  of  the  37th  chapter,  that  the 
army  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  which  is  called  the  army  of  the 
Chaldeans,  had  besieged  Jerusalem  some  time;  and  on  their 
hearing  that  the  army  of  Pharaoh,  of  Egypt,  was  marching 
against  them  they  raised  the  siege,  and  retreated  for  a  time. 
It  may  here  be  proper  to  mention,  in  order  to  understand 
this  confused  history,  that  Nebuchadnezzar  had  besieged  and 
taken  Jerusalem,  during  the  reign  of  Jehoakim,  the  prede- 
cessor of  Zedekiah  ;  and  that  it  was  Nebuchadnezzar  who 
had  made  Zedekiah  king,  or  rather  viceroy  ;  and  that  this 


PABTII.]          THE  AGE  OF  REASON.  103 

second  siege,  of  which  the  book  of  Jeremiah  treats,  was  in 
consequence  of  the  revolt  of  Zedekiah  against  Nebuchad- 
nezzar. This  will  in  some  measure  account  for  the  suspicion 
that  affixes  itself  to  Jeremiah  of  being  a  traitor,  and  in  the 
interest  of  Nebuchadnezzar  ;  whom  Jeremiah  calls,  in  the 
13d  chap.,  ver.  10,  the  servant  of  God. 

The  llth  verse  of  this  chapter,  (the  37th,)  says,  "And  it 
came  to  pass,  that,  when  the  army  of  the  Chaldeans  was 
broken  up  from  Jerusalem,  for  fear  of  Pharaoh's  army,  that 
Jeremiah  went  forth  out  of  Jerusalem,  to  go  (as  this  account 
states)  into  the  land  of  Benjamin,  to  separate  himself  thence 
in  the  midst  of  the  people;  and  when  he  was  in  the  gate  of 
Benjamin  a  captain  of  the  ward  was  there,  whose  name 
was  Irijah  ;  and  he  took  Jeremiah,  the  prophet,  saying,  Thou 
fallest  away  to  the  Chaldeans  ;  then  Jeremiah  said,  It  is  false, 
I  fall  not  away  lo  the  Chaldeans."  Jeremiah  being  thus 
stopped  and  accused,  was,  after  being  examined,  committed 
to  prison,  on  suspicion  of  being  a  traitor,  where  he  remained, 
as  is  stated  in  the  last  verse  of  this  chapter. 

But  the  next  chapter  gives  an  account  of  the  imprison- 
ment of  Jeremiah,  which  has  no  connection  with  this 
account,  but  ascribes  his  imprisonment  to  another  circum- 
stance, and  for  which  we  must  go  back  to  the  21st  chapter. 
It  is  there  stated,  ver.  1,  that  Zedekiah  sent  Pashur,  the  son 
of  Malchiah,  and  Zephaniah,  the  son  of  Maaseiah,  the  priest, 
to  Jeremiah  to  inquire  of  him  concerning  Nebuchadnezzar, 
whose  army  was  then  before  Jerusalem;  and  Jeremiah  said 
to  them,  ver.  8:  "Thus  saith  the  Lord,  Behold  I  set  before 
you  the  way  of  life,  and  the  way  of  death;  he  that  abideth 
m  this  city  shall  die  by  the  sword,  and  by  the  famine,  and  by 
the  pestilence;  but  he  thatgoeth  out  and  falleth  to  the  Chal- 
deans that  besiege  you,  he  shall  live,  and  his  life  shall  be  unto 
him  for  a  prey." 

This  interview  and  conference  breaks  off  abruptly  at  the 
end  of  the  10th  verse  of  the  21st  chapter;  and  such  is  the 
disorder  of  this  book  that  we  have  to  pass  over  sixteen 
chapters,  upon  various  subjects,  in  order  to  come  at  the 
continuation  and  event  of  this  conference;  and  this  brings 
us  to  the  first  verse  of  the  38th  chapter,  as  I  have  just  men- 
tioned. 

The  38th  chapter  opens  with  saying:  "  Then  Shapatiah, 
the  son  of  Mattan;  Gedaliah,  the  son  of  Pashur,  and  Jucal, 


104  THE    AOB    OF    EEAflON.  [PABT  O. 

the  son  of  Shelemiah;  and  Pashur,  the  son  of  Malchiah, 
(here  are  more  persons  mentioned  than  in  the  21st  chapter,} 
heard  the  words  that  Jeremiah  spoke  unto  the  people,  say- 
ing, Thus  aaith  the  Lord,  He  that  remaineth  in  this  city 
thall  die  by  the  sword,  by  the  famine,  and  by  the  pestilence; 
but  he  that  goeth  forth  to  the  Chaldeans  shall  live;  for  he 
•hall  have  Aw  life  for  a  prey,  and  shall  live;  (which  are  the 
words  of  the  conference,)  therefore,  (say  they  to  Zedekiah,) 
we  beseech  thee,  let  us  put  this  man  to  death,  for  thus  he 
weakeneth  the  hands  of  the  men  of  war  that  remain  in  this 
city,  and  the  hands  of  all  the  people  in  speaking  such  words 
unto  them;  for  this  man  seeketh  not  the  welfare  of  the  people, 
but  the  hurt;"  and  at  the  6th  verse  it  is  said:  "Then  they 
took  Jeremiah,  and  put  him  into  a  dungeon  of  Malchiah." 

These  two  accounts  are  different  and  contradictory.  The 
one  ascribes  his  imprisonment  to  his  attempt  to  escape  out 
of  the  city;  the  other  to  his  preaching  and  prophesying  in 
the  city;  the  one  to  his  being  seized  by  the  guard  at  the 
gate;  the  other  to  his  being  accused  before  Zedekiah,  by  the 
conferees.* 

In  the  next  chapter  (the  39th)  we  have  another  instance 
of  the  disordered  state  of  this  book;  for,  notwithstanding 
the  siege  of  the  city  by  Nebuchadnezzar  has  been  the  sub- 

•  I  observed  two  chapters,  18th  and  17th,  in  the  flret  book  of  Samuel,  that  contra- 
dict each  other  wit!)  recpect  to  David,  and  the  manner  he  became  acquainted  with 
Saul;  as  the  87th  and  38th  chapters  of  the  book  of  Jeremiah  contradict  each  other 
with  respect  to  the  cause  of  Jeremiah's  imprisonment. 

In  the  16th  chapter  of  Samuel  It  is  said  that  an  evil  spirit  of  God  troubled  Saal, 
And  that  Ms  servants  advised  him  (as  a  remedy)  "  to  seek  out  a  man  who  was  a 
canning  player  upon  the  harp.1'  And  Saul  said,  ver.  17:  "Provide  now  a  man 
that  can  play  well,  and  bring  him  unto  me.  Then  answered  one  of  his  servants, 
and  said,  Behold,  I  have  seen  a  son  of  Jesse,  the  Bathlemite.  that  Is  cunning  In 
playing,  and  a  mighty  mtin,  and  a  man  of  war,  and  prudent  in  matters,  and  a 
comely  person,  and  the  Lord  is  with  him;  wherefore  Sanl  sent  messengers  unto- 
Jesse,  and  said,  Send  me  David,  thy  son.  And  [verse  21]  David  came  to  Saul, 
and  stood  before  him,  and  he  loved  him  greatly,  and  he  became  his  armour- 
bearer;  and,  when  the  evil  spirit  of  God  was  upon  Saul  [verse  23]  David 
took  his  harp,  and  played  with  his  hand,  and  Saal  was  refreshed,  and  war 
well.- 

But  tne  next  chapter  (17)  gives  an  account,  all  different  to  this,  of  the  manner 
that  Sanl  and  David  became  acquainted.  Here  it  is  ascribed  to  David's  encounter 
with  Goliath,  wtien  David  was  sent  by  his  father  to  carry  provision  to  his  brethren 
in  the  camp.  In  the  55th  verse  of  this  chapter  it  is  said:  "And  when  Saul  saw 
David  go  forth  against  the  Philistine  [Goliath]  he  said  to  Aimer,  the  captain  of  the 
host,  Abner.  whose  son  is  this  youth?  And  Abner  said,  As  thy  sonl  livoth.  O  king. 
I  cannot  tell.  And  the  king  said,  Inqnire  thon  whose  son  the  stripling  Is.  Ana 
M  David  returned  from  the  slaughter  of  the  Philistine,  Abner  took  him  and 
brousbt  him  before  Sanl,  with  the  head  of  the  Philistine  in  his  hand;  and  Saul 
•aid  unto  him,  Whose  son  art  thon,  thou  young  man?  And  David  answered,  I 
am  the  son  of  thy  servant  Jenee,  the  Bethlemite.  These  two  accounts  belie  each 
other,  became  each  of  them  supposes  Saul  and  David  not  to  hare  known  eack 
other  before.  ThU  book,  the  Bible,  is  too  ridiculo*  for  criticism. 


PART  II.]  THE  AGE  OF  REA8OS.  105 

ject  of  several  of  the  preceding  chapters,  particularly  the 
37th  and  38th,  the  39th  chapter  begins  as  if  not  a  word  had 
been  said  upon  the  subject,  and  as  if  the  reader  was  to  be 
informed  of  every  particular  respecting  it,  for  it  begins  with 
saying,  ver.  1:  "In  the  ninth  year  of  Zedekiah,  king  of 
Judah,  in  the  tenth  month,  came  Nebuchadnezzar,  king  of 
Babylon,  and  all  his  army,  against  Jerusalem,  and  be- 
sieged it" etc.,  etc. 

But  the  instance  in  the  last  chapter  (the  52d)  is  still  more 
glaring;  for,  though  the  story  has  been  told  over  and  over 
again,  this  chapter  still  supposes  the  reader  not  to  know  any- 
thing of  it,  for  it  begins  by  saying,  ver.  1 :  "  Zedekiah  was 
one  and  twenty  years  old  when  he  began  to  reign,  and  he 
reigned  eleven  years  in  Jerusalem,  and  his  mother's  name 
was  Hamutal,  the  daughter  of  Jeremiah  of  Libnah,  (ver.  4,) 
and  it  came  to  pass  in  the  ninth  year  of  his  reign,  in  the 
tenth  month,  that  Nebuchadnezzar,  king  of  Babylon,  came 
he  and  all  his  army,  against  Jerusalem,  and  pitched  against 
it,  and  built  forts  against  it,"  etc.,  etc. 

It  is  not  possible  that  any  one  man,  and  more  particu- 
larly Jeremiah,  could  have  been  the  writer  of  this  book. 
The  errors  are  such  as  could  not  have  been  committed  by 
any  person  sitting  down  to  compose  a  work.  Were  I,  or 
any  other  man,  to  write  in  such  a  disordered  manner,  nobody 
would  read  what  was  written;  and  everybody  would  suppose 
that  the  writer  was  in  a  state  of  insanity.  The  only  way, 
therefore,  to  account  for  this  disorder,  is,  that  the  book  is  a 
medley  of  detached  unauthenticated  anecdotes,  put  together 
by  some  stupid  book-maker,  under  the  name  of  Jeremiah; 
because  many  of  them  refer  to  him,  and  to  the  circumstances 
of  the  times  he  lived  in. 

Of  the  duplicity,  and  of  the  false  predictions  of  Jeremiah, 
I  shall  mention  two  instances,  and  then  proceed  to  review 
the  remainder  of  the  Bible. 

It  appears  from  the  38th  chapter,  that  when  Jeremiah  was 
in  prison,  Zedekiah  sent  for  him,  and  at  this  interview,  which 
was  private,  Jeremiah  pressed  it  strongly  on  Zedekiah  to 
surrender  himself  to  the  enemy.  "  If"  says  he,  (ver.  17,) 
"  thou  wilt  assuredly  go  forth  unto  the  king  of  Babylorf* 
princes,  then  thy  soul  shall  live" etc.  Zedekiah  was  appre- 
nensive  that  what  passed  at  this  conference  should  be  known; 
and  he  said  to  Jeremiah,  (ver.  25,)  "  If  the  princes  (meaning 


106  THE    AGK   OF   REASON.  [PART  H. 

those  of  Judah)  hear  that  I  have  talked  with  thee,  and  they 
come  unto  thee,  and  say  unto  thee,  Declare  unto  us  now 
what  thou  hast  said  unto  the  king;  hide  it  not  from  us,  and 
we  will  not  put  thee  to  death;  and  also  what  the  king  said 
unto  thee;  then  thou  shalt  say  unto  them,  I  presented  my 
supplication  before  the  king;  that  he  would  not  cause  me  to 
return  to  Jonathan's  house  to  die  there.  Then  came  all  the 
princes  unto  Jeremiah,  and  asked  him,  and  he  told  them  ac- 
cording to  all  the  words  the  king  had  commanded."  Thus, 
this  man  of  God,  as  he  is  called,  could  tell  a  lie,  or  very 
strongly  prevaricate,  when  he  supposed  it  would  answer  his 
purpose;  for  certainly  he  did  not  go  to  Zedekiah  to  make  his 
supplication,  neither  did  he  make  it;  he  went  because  he  was 
sent  for,  and  he  employed  that  opportunity  to  advise  Zede- 
kiah to  surrender  himself  to  Nebuchadnezzar. 

In  the  34th  chapter,  is  a  prophecy  of  Jeremiah  to  Zedekiah, 
in  these  words,  (ver.  2,)  "Thus  saith  the  Lord,  Behold  I  will 
give  this  city  into  the  hands  of  the  king  of  Babylon,  and  he 
will  burn  it  with  fire;  and  thou  shalt  not  escape  out  of  his 
hand,  but  thou  shalt  surely  be  taken,  and  delivered  into  that 
his  hand;  and  thine  eyes  shall  behold  the  eyes  of  the  king  of 
Babylon,  and  he  shall  speak  with  thee  mouth  to  mouth,  and 
thou  shalt  go  to  Babylon.  "  Yet  hear  the  word  of  the  Lord; 
O  Zedekiah,  king  of  Judah,  thus  saith  the  Lord,  Thou  shalt 
not  die  by  the  sword,  but  thou  shalt  die  in  peace;  and  with 
the  burnings  of  thy  fathers,  the  former  kings  that  were  before 
thee,  so  shall  they  burn  odors  for  thee,  and  they  will  lament 
thee,  saying,  Ah,  Lord;  for  I  have  pronounced  the  word,  saith 
the  Lord." 

Now,  instead  of  Zedekiah  beholding  the  eyes  of  the  king 
of  Babylon,  and  speaking  with  him  mouth  to  mouth,  and 
dying  in  peace,  and  with  the  burning  of  odors,  as  at  the  fun- 
eral of  his  fathers,  (as  Jeremiah  had  declared  the  Lord  him- 
self had  pronounced,)  the  reverse,  according  to  the  52d  chap- 
ter, was  the  case;  it  is  there  said,  (ver.  10,)  "That  the  king 
of  Babylon  slew  the  sons  of  Zedekiah  before  his  eyes:  then 
he  put  out  the  eyes  of  Zedekiah,  and  bound  him  in  chains, 
and  carried  him  to  Babylon,  and  put  him  in  prison  till  the 
day  of  his  death."  What  then  can  we  say  of  these  prophets, 
but  that  they  are  imposters  and  liars? 

As  for  Jeremiah,  he  experienced  none  of  those  evils.  He 
was  taken  into  favor  by  Nebuchadnezzar,  who  gave  him  in 


PAJIT  II. J  THE   AOB   Or   UEABON.  107 

charge  to  the  captain  of  the  guard,  (chap,  xxxix.  v.  12,) 
"Take  him  (said  he)  and  look  well  to  him,  and  do  him  no 
harm;  but  do  unto  him  even  as  he  shall  say  unto  thee." 
Jeremiah  joined  himself  afterwards  to  Nebuchadnezzar,  and 
went  about  prophesying  for  him  against  the  Egyptians,  who 
had  marched  to  the  relief  of  Jerusalem  while  it  was  besieged. 
Thus  much  for  another  of  the  lying  prophets,  and  the  book 
that  bears  his  name. 

1  have  been  the  more  particular  in  treating  of  the  books 
ascribed  to  Isaiah  and  Jeremiah,  because  those  two  are  spok- 
en of  in  the  books  of  Kings  and  Chronicles,  which  the  others 
are  not.  The  remainder  of  the  books  ascribed  to  the  men 
called  prophets,  I  shall  not  trouble  myself  much  about;  but 
take  them  collectively  into  the  observations  I  shall  offer  on 
the  character  of  the  men  styled  prophets. 

In  the  former  part  of  the  Age  of  Reason,  I  have  said 
that  the  word  prophet  was  the  Bible  word  for  poet,  and 
that  the  flights  and  metaphors  of  Jewish  poets  have  been 
foolishly  erected  into  what  are  now  called  prophecies.  I 
am  sufficiently  justified  in  this  opinion,  not  only  because 
the  books  called  the  prophecies  are  written  in  poetical  lan- 
guage, but  because  there  is  no  word  in  the  Bible,  except  it 
be  the  word  prophet,  that  describes  what  we  mean  by  a  poet. 
I  have  also  said,  that  the  word  signifies  a  performer  upon 
musical  instruments,  of  which  I  have  given  some  instances; 
such  as  that  of  a  company  of  prophets  prophesying  with 
psalteries,  with  tabrets,  with  pipes,  with  harps,  etc.,  and  that 
Saul  prophesied  with  them,  1  Sam.  chap,  x.,  ver.  5.  It 
appears  from  this  passage,  and  from  other  parts  in  the  book 
of  Samuel,  that  the  word  prophet  was  confined  to  signify 
poetry  and  music,  for  the  person  who  was  supposed  to  have 
a  visionary  insight  into  concealed  things  was  not  a  prophet, 
but  a  «eer,*  (1  Sam.,  chap.  ix.  ver.  9);  and  it  was  not  till  after 
the  word  teer  went  out  of  use  (which  most  probably  was 
when  Saul  banished  those  he  called  wizards)  that  the  pro- 
fession of  the  seer,  or  the  art  of  seeing,  became  incorporated 
Into  the  word  prophet. 

According  to  the  modern  meaning  of  the  word  prophet 
and  prophesying-,  it  signifies  foretelling  events  to  a  great  dis- 
tance of  time ;  and  it  became  necessary  to  the  inventors  of 

*f  know  not  wtwt  U  the  Hebrew  word  that  corresponds  to  the  word  seer  In 
Brgliih,  but  I  observe  It  t»  translated  inU>  French  hy  LA  Voyant,  from  the  7»rk> 
•oir  to  1*4,  and  which  m**ni  the  person  who  »***.  or  the  SMT. 


108  THE   AGE   OF   BKA8OH.  [rAKT  IL 

the  gospel  to  give  it  this  latitude  of  meaning,  in  order  to 
apply  or  to  stretch  what  they  call  the  prophecies  of  the  Old 
Testament,  to  the  times  of  the  New;  but  according  to  the 
Old  Testament,  the  prophesying  of  the  seer,  and  afterwards 
of  the  prophet,  so  far  as  the  meaning  of  the  word  seer  was 
incorporated  into  that  of  prophet,  had  reference  only  to 
things  of  the  time  then  passing,  or  very  closely  connected 
with  it;  such  as  the  event  of  a  battle  they  were  going  to 
engage  in,  or  of  a  journey,  or  of  any  enterprise  they  were 
going  to  undertake,  or  of  any  circumstance  then  pending, 
or  of  any  difficulty  they  were  then  in;  all  of  which  had  im- 
mediate reference  to  themselves  (as  in  the  case  already  men- 
tioned of  Ahaz  and  Isaiah,  with  respect  to  the  expression, 
Behold  a  virgin  shall  conceive  and  bear  a  «on),  and  not  to 
any  distant  future  time.  It  was  that  kind  of  prophesying 
that  corresponds  to  what  we  call  fortune-telling;  such  as 
casting  nativities,  predicting  riches,  fortunate  or  unfortunate 
marriages,  conjuring  for  lost  goods,  etc.;  and  it  is  the  fraud 
of  the  Christian  church,  not  that  of  the  Jews;  and  the 
ignorance  and  the  superstition  of  modern,  not  that  of  ancient 
times,  that  elevated  those  poetical,  musical,  conjuring, 
dreaming,  strolling  gentry  into  the  rank  they  have  since 
had. 

But,  besides  this  general  character  of  all  the  prophets, 
they  had  also  a  particular  character.  They  were  in  parties, 
and  they  prophesied  for  or  against,  according  to  the  party 
they  were  with;  as  the  poetical  and  political  writers  of  the 
present  day  write  in  defense  of  the  party  they  associate 
with  against  the  other. 

After  the  Jews  were  divided  into  two  nations,  that  of 
Judah  and  that  of  Israel,  each  party  had  its  prophets,  who 
abused  and  accused  each  other  of  being  false  prophets,  lying 
prophets,  impostors,  etc. 

The  prophets  of  the  party  of  Judah  prophesied  against 
the  prophets  of  the  party  of  Israel,  and  those  of  the  party 
of  Israel  against  those  of  Judah.  This  party  prophesying 
showed  ittelf  immediately  on  the  separation  under  the  "first 
two  rival  kings,  Rehoboam  and  Jeroboam.  The  prophet 
that  cursed,  or  prophesied  against  the  altar  that  Jeroboam 
had  built  in  Bethel,  was  of  the  party  of  Judah,  where 
Rehoboam  was  king;  and  ht  was  waylaid,  on  his  return 
home,  by  a  prophet  of  the  party  of  Israel,  who  said  unto 


FAJTT  II. J  THE   AGE   OF    REASON.  109 

him  (1  Kings,  chap,  x.):  "Art  thou  the  man  of  God  that 
came  from  Judah?  and  he  said,  I  am."  Then  the  prophet 
of  the  party  of  Israel  said  to  him,  "  I  am  a  prophet  also,  u 
thou  art  (signifying  of  Judah),  and  an  angel  spake  unto  me 
by  the  word  of  the  Lord,  saying,  Bring  him  back  with  thee 
unto  thine  house,  that  he  may  eat  bread  and  drink  water; 
but  (says  the  18th  verse)  he  lied  unto  him."  This  event, 
however,  according  to  the  story,  is,  that  the  prophet  of 
Judah  never  got  back  to  Judah,  for  he  was  found  dead  on 
the  road,  by  the  contrivance  of  the  prophet  of  Israel,  who, 
no  doubt,  was  called  a  true  prophet  by  his  own  party,  and 
the  prophet  of  Judah  a  lying  prophet. 

[n  the  third  chapter  of  the  second  of  Kings,  a  story  is 
related  of  prophesying  or  conjuring,  that  shows,  in  several 
particulars,  the  character  of  a  prophet.  Jehoshaphat,  king 
of  Judah,  and  Joram,  king  of  Israel,  had  for  a  while  ceased 
their  party  animosity,  and  entered  into  an  alliance;  and  these 
two,  together  with  the  king  of  Edom,  engaged  in  a  war 
against  the  king  of  Moab.  After  uniting,  and  marching  their 
armies,  the  story  says,  they  were  in  great  distress  for 
water,  upon  which  Jehoshaphat  said,  *'  Is  there  not  here  a 
prophet  of  the  Lord,  that  we  may  inquire  of  the  Lord  by 
him?  and  one  of  the  servants  of  the  king  of  Israel  said,  Here 
is  Elisha  (Elisha  was  of  the  party  of  Judah.)  And  Jehosha- 
phat, the  king  of  Judah  said,  The  word  of  the  Lord  is 
with  him."  The  story  then  says,  that  these  three  kings 
went  down  to  Elisha;  and  when  Elisha  (who  as  I  have 
said,  was  a  Judahmite  prophet)  saw  the  king  of  Israel,  he 
said  unto  him,  "  What  have  I  to  do  with  thee,  get  thee  to 
the  prophets  of  thy  father  and  the  prophets  of  thy  mother. 
Nay,  but,  said  the  king  of  Israel,  the  Lord  hath  called  these 
three  kings  together,  to  deliver  them  into  the  hands  of  the 
king  of  Moab,  (meaning  because  of  the  distress  they  were 
it  for  water;)  upon  which  Elisha  said,  "As  the  Lord  of  hosts 
liveth  before  whom  I  stand,  surely,  were  it  not  that  I 
regarded  Jehoshaphat,  king  of  Judah,  I  would  not  look 
towards  thee,  nor  see  thee."  Here  is  all  the  venom  and 
vulgarity  of  a  party  prophet.  We  have  now  to  see  the 
performance,  or  manner  of  prophesying. 

Ver.  15:  "Bring  me,"  said  Elisha,  "a  minstrel;  and  it 
came  to  pass,  when  the  minstrel  played,  that  the  hand  of  the 
Lord  came  upon  him."  Here  is  the  farce  of  the  conjuror. 


HO  THB   AGE  OF   BEA8OH.  [PABT  O. 

Now  for  the  prophecy:  "And  Elisha  said,  (singing  most 
probably  to  the  tune  he  was  playing,)  Thus  saith  the  Lord 
Make  this  valley  full  of  ditches;"  which  was  just  telling 
them  what  every  countryman  could  have  told  them  without 
either  fiddle  or  farce,  that  the  way  to  get  water  was  to  dig 
for  it. 

But  as  every  conjuror  is  not  famous  alike  for  the  same 
thing,  so  neither  were  those  prophets;  for  though  all  of  them, 
at  least  those  I  have  spoken  of,  were  famous  for  lying,  some 
of  them  excelled  in  cursing.  Elisha,  whom  I  have  just  men- 
tioned, was  a  chief  in  this  branch  of  prophesying;  it  was  he 
that  cursed  the  forty-two  children  in  the  name  of  the  Lord, 
whom  the  two  she-bears  came  and  devoured.  We  are  to 
suppose  that  those  children  were  of  the  party  of  Israel;  but 
as  those  who  will  curse  will  lie,  there  is  just  as  much  credit 
to  be  given  to  this  story  of  Elisha's  two  she-bears  as  there  i» 
to  that  of  the  Dragon  of  Wantley,  of  whom  it  is  said, 

Poor  children  three  deroured  he. 

That  could  not  with  him  grapple; 

And  at  one  sup  he  eat  them  up,  .* 

Aa  a  man  would  eat  an  apple. 

There  was  another  description  of  men  called  prophet*, 
that  amused  themselves  with  dreams  and  visions;  but 
whether  by  night  or  by  day,  we  know  not.  These,  if  thej 
were  not  quite  harmless,  were  but  little  mischievous.  Of 
this  class  are: 

Ezekiel  and  Daniel;  and  the  first  question  upon  those 
books,  as  upon  all  the  others,  is,  are  they  genuine?  that  i*, 
were  they  written  by  Ezekiel  and  Daniel? 

Of  thii  there  is  no  proof;  but  so  far  as  my  own  opinion 
goes,  1  am  more  inclined  to  believe  they  were,  than  that  they 
were  not.  My  reasons  for  this  opinion  are  as  follows:  First, 
Because  those  books  do  not  contain  internal  evidence  to 
prove  they  were  not  written  by  Ezekiel  and  Daniel,  as  the 
books  ascribed  to  Moses,  Joshua,  Samuel,  etc.,  etc.,  prove  they 
were  not  written  by  Moses,  Joshua,  Samuel,  etc. 

Secondly,  Because  they  were  not  written  till  after  the 
Babylonish  captivity  began;  and  there  is  good  reason  to 
believe,  that  not  any  book  in  the  Bible  was  written  before 
that  period;  at  least,  it  is  provable,  from  the  books  them- 
•elve»,  as  I  have  already  shown,  that  they  were  not  written 
till  after  the  commencement  of  the  Jewish  monarchy. 

Thirdly,   Because  the  manner  iu  which  the  b<K>ks  ascribed 


PJLBT  II.]  THE    AGE   OF   BEABON.  Ill 

to  Ezekiel  and  Daniel  are  written,  agrees  with  the  condition 
these  men  were  in  at  the  time  of  writing  them. 

Had  the  numerous  commentators  and  priests,  who  have 
foolishly  employed  or  wasted  their  time  in  pretending  to 
expound  and  unriddle  those  books,  been  carried  into  cap- 
tivity, as  Ezekiel  and  Daniel  were,  it  would  have  greatly 
improved  their  intellects,  in  comprehending  the  reason  for 
this  mode  of  writing,  and  have  saved  them  the  trouble  of 
racking  their  invention,  as  they  have  done,  to  no  purpose, 
for  they  would  have  found  that  themselves  would  be  obliged 
to  write  whatever  they  had  to  write,  respecting  their  own 
affairs,  or  those  of  their  friends,  or  of  their  country,  in  a 
concealed  manner,  as  those  men  have  done. 

These  two  books  differ  from  all  the  rest;  for  it  is  only 
these  that  are  filled  witn  accounts  of  dreams  and  visions; 
and  this  difference  arose  from  the  situation  the  writers  were 
in  as  prisoners  of  war,  or  prisoners  of  state,  in  a  foreign 
country,  which  obliged  them  to  convey  even  the  most  trifling 
information  to  each  other,  and  all  their  political  projects  or 
opinions,  in  obscure  and  metaphorical  terms.  They  pretend 
to  have  dreamed  dreams,  and  seen  visions,  because  it  was 
unsafe  for  them  to  speak  facts  or  plain  language.  We 
ought,  however,  to  suppose,  that  the  persons  to  whom  they 
wrote,  understood  what  they  meant,  and  tnat  it  was  not 
intended  anybody  else  should.  But  these  busy  commenta- 
tors and  priests  have  been  puzzling  their  wits  to  find  out 
what  it  was  not  intended  they  should  know,  and  with  which 
they  have  nothing  to  do. 

Ezekiel  and  Daniel  were  carried  prisoners  to  Babylon, 
under  the  first  captivity,  in  the  time  of  Johoiakim,  nine 
years  before  the  second  captivity  in  the  time  of  Zedekiah. 

The  Jews  were  then  still  numerous,  and  had  considerable 
force  at  Jerusalem;  and  as  it  is  natural  to  suppose  that  men 
In  the  situation  of  Ezekiel  and  Daniel,  would  be  meditating 
the  recovery  of  their  country,  and  their  own  deliverance,  it 
is  reasonable  to  suppose,  that  the  accounts  of  dreams  and 
visions,  with  which  these  books  are  filled,  are  no  other  than  a 
disguised  mode  of  correspondence,  to  facilitate  those  objects; 
it  served  them  as  a  cypher,  or  secret  alphabet.  If  they 
we  not  this,  they  are  tales,  reveries,  and  nonsense;  or,  at 
least,  a  fanciful  way  of  wearing  off  the  wearisomeness  of 
captivity;  but  the  presumption  is,  that  they  were  the  former. 


112  THE    AGE    OF    SEASON.  [PAJST  EL 

Ezekiel  begins  his  books  by  speaking  of  a  vision  of  cheru- 
bims,  and  of  a  wheel  within  a  wheel,  which  he  says  he  saw 
by  the  river  Chebar,  in  the  land  of  his  captivity.  Is  it  not 
reasonable  to  suppose,  that  by  the  cherubims  he  meant  the 
temple  at  Jerusalem,  where  they  had  figures  of  cherubims? 
and  by  a  wheel  within  a  wheel  (which,  as  a  figure,  has 
always  been  understood  to  signify  political  contrivance) 
the  project  or  means  of  recovering  Jerusalem?  In  the  latter 
part  of  this  book  he  supposes  himself  transported  to  Jeru- 
salem, and  into  the  temple;  and  he  refers  back  to  the  vision 
on  the  river  Chebar,  and  says  (chap,  xliii.,  ver.  3)  that  this 
last  vision  was  like  the  vision  on  the  river  Chebar;  which 
indicates,  that  those  pretended  dreams  and  visions  had  for 
their  object  the  recovery  of  Jerusalem,  and  nothing  further. 

As  to  the  romantic  interpretations  and  applications,  wild 
as  the  dreams  and  visions  they  undertake  to  explain,  which 
commentators  and  priests  have  made  of  those  books,  that  of 
converting  them  into  things  which  they  call  prophecies,  and 
making  them  bend  to  times  and  circumstances,  as  far  remote 
even  as  the  present  day,  it  shows  the  fraud  or  the  extreme 
folly  to  which  credulity  or  priestcraft  can  go. 

Scarcely  anything  can  be  more  absurd  than  to  suppose 
that  men  situated  as  Ezekiel  and  Daniel  were,  whose  coun- 
try was  overrun  and  in  the  possession  of  the  enemy,  all 
their  friends  and  relations  in  captivity  abroad,  or  in  slavery  at 
home,  or  massacred,  or  in  continual  danger  of  it;  scarcely 
anything,  I  say,  can  be  more  absurd,  than  to  suppose  that 
•uch  men  should  find  nothing  to  do  but  that  of  employing 
their  time  and  their  thoughts  about  what  was  to  happen  to 
other  nations  a  thousand  or  two  thousand  years  after  they 
were  dead;  at  the  same  time,  nothing  is  more  natural  than 
that  they  should  meditate  the  recovery  of  Jerusalem  and 
their  own  deliverance;  and  that  this  was  the  sole  object  of  all 
the  obscure  and  apparently  frantic  writing,  contained  in 
those  books. 

In  this  sense,  the  mode  of  writing  used  in  those  two  books 
being  forced  by  necessity,  and  not  adopted  by  choice,  is  not 
irrational;  but,  if  we  are  to  use  the  books  as  prophecies, 
they  are  false.  In  the  29th  chapter  of  Ezekiel,  speaking  of 
Egypt,  it  is  said  (ver.  11),  "  No  foot  of  man  should  pass 
through  it,  nor  foot  of  beast  should  pass  through  it;  neither 
•hall  it  be  inhabited  for  forty  years."  This  is  what  never 


PA-BT  n.j  THE    AGE   OF    REA8OH.  113 

came  to  pass,  and  consequently  it  is  false,  as  all  the  books  I 
have  already  reviewed  are.  I  here  close  this  part  of  the  sub- 
ject. 

In  the  former  part  of  the  A.ge  of  JKeason  I  have  spoken 
of  Jonah,  and  of  the  story  of  him  and  the  whale.  A  fit 
story  for  ridicule,  if  it  was  written  to  be  believed;  or  of 
laughter,  if  it  was  intended  to  try  what  credulity  could 
swallow;  for,  if  it  could  swallow  Jonah  and  the  whale,  it 
could  swallow  anything. 

But,  as  is  already  shown  in  the  observations  on  the  book 
of  Job  and  of  Proverbs,  it  is  not  always  certain  which  of  the 
books  in  the  Bible  are  originally  Hebrew,  or  only  transla- 
tions from  books  of  the  Gentiles  into  Hebrew;  and,  as  the 
book  of  Jonah,  so  far  from  treating  of  the  affairs  of  the 
Jews,  says  nothing  upon  that  subject,  but  treats  altogether 
of  the  Gentiles,  it  is  more  probable  that  it  is  a  book  of  the 
Gentiles  than  of  the  Jews;  and  that  it  has  been  written  as 
a  fable,  to  expose  the  nonsense  and  satirize  the  vicious  and 
malignant  character  of  a  Bible  prophet  or  a  predicting 
priest. 

Jonah  is  represented,  first,  as  a  disobedient  prophet,  run- 
ning away  from  his  mission  and  taking  shelter  aboard  a 
vessel  of  the  Gentiles,  bound  from  Joppa  to  Tarshish;  as  if 
he  ignorantly  supposed,  bv  such  a  paltry  contrivance,  he 
could  hide  himself  where  God  could  not  find  him.  The 
vessel  is  overtaken  by  a  storm  at  sea;  and  the  mariners,  all 
of  whom  are  Gentiles,  believing  it  to  be  a  judgment,  on  ac- 
count of  some  one  on  board  who  had  committed  a  crime, 
agreed  to  cast  lots  to  discover  the  offender;  and  the  lot  fell 
upon  Jonah.  But,  before  this,  they  had  cast  all  their  wares 
and  merchandise  overboard  to  lighten  the  vessel,  while 
Jonah,  like  a  stupid  fellow,  was  fast  asleep  in  the  hold. 

After  the  lot  had  designated  Jonah  to  be  the  offender; 
thi  .  questioned  him  to  know  who  and  what  he  was?  and  he 
told  them  he  was  an  Hebrew;  and  the  story  implies  that  he 
confessed  himself  to  be  guilty.  But  these  Gentiles,  instead 
of  sacrificing  him  at  once,  without  pity  or  mercy,  as  a  com- 
pany of  Bible  prophets  or  priests  would  have  done  by  a 
Gentile  in  the  same  case,  and  as  it  is  related  Samuel  had  done 
by  Agag,  and  Moses  by  the  women  and  children,  they 
endeavored  to  save  him,  though  at  the  risk  of  their  own  lives; 
for  the  account  says:  "Nevertheless  (that  ia,  though  Jon&b 


114  THB    AGE   OF    REASON.  [PABT  n. 

was  a  Jew  and  a  foreigner,  and  the  cause  of  all  their  misfor- 
tunes, and  the  loss  of  their  cargo  (the  men  rowed  hard  to 
bring  the  boat  to  land,  but  they  could  not,  for  the  sea 
wrought  and  was  tempestuous  against  them.'*  Still,  however, 
they  were  unwilling  to  put  the  fate  of  the  lot  into  execution; 
and  they  cried  (says  the  account)  unto  the  Lord,  saying: 
**  We  beseech  thee,  O  Lord,  let  us  not  perish  for  this  man's 
life,  and  lay  not  upon  us  innocent  bloo.l;  for  thou,  O  Lord, 
hast  done  as  it  pleased  thee."  Meaning  thereby,  that  they 
did  not  presume  to  judge  Jonah  guilty,  since  that  he  might 
be  innocent;  but  that  they  considered  the  lot  that  had  fallen 
upon  him  as  a  decree  of  God,  or  as  it  pleased  God.  The 
address  of  this  prayer  shows  that  the  Gentiles  worshiped 
one  Supreme  Being,  and  that  they  were  not  idolaters  as  the 
Jews  represented  ti.em  to  be.  But  the  storm  still  continu- 
ing, and  the  danger  increasing,  they  put  the  fate  of  the  lot 
into  execution,  and  cast  Jonah  into  the  sea;  where,  according 
to  the  story,  a  great  fish  swallowed  him  up  whole  and  alive. 

We  have  now  to  consider  Jonah  securely  housed  from  the 
•torm  in  the  fish's  belly.  Here  we  are  told  that  he  prayed; 
but  the  prayer  is  a  made-up  prayer,  taken  from  various  parts 
of  the  Psalms,  without  any  connection  or  consistency,  and 
adapted  to  the  distress,  but  not  at  all  to  the  condition,  that 
Jonah  was  in.  It  is  such  a  prayer  as  a  Gentile,  who  might 
know  something  of  the  Psalms,  could  copy  out  for  him.  This 
circumstance  alone,  were  there  no  other,  is  sufficient  to  indi- 
cate that  the  whole  is  a  made-up  story.  The  prayer,  how- 
ever, is  supposed  to  have  answered  the  purpose,  and  the 
story  goes  on,  (taking  up  at  the  same  time  the  cant  lan- 
guage of  a  Bible  prophet,)  saying:  '•'-The  Lord  spake  unto 
ihejish,  and  it  vomited  out  Jonah  upon  dry  land." 

Jonah  then  received  a  second  mission  to  Nineveh,  with 
which  he  seta  out;  and  we  have  now  to  consider  him  as  a 
preacher.  The  distress  he  is  represented  to  have  suffered, 
the  remembrance  of  his  own  disobedience  as  the  cause  of  it, 
and  the  miraculous  escape  he  is  supposed  to  have  had,  were 
sufficient,  one  would  conceive,  to  have  impressed  him  with 
sympathy  and  benevolence  in  the  execution  of  his  mission; 
but,  instead  of  this,  he  enters  the  city  with  denunciation  and 
malediction  in  his  mouth,  crying:  "  Yet  forty  days,  and 
Nineveh  shall  be  overthrown." 

We  have  now  to  consider  this  supposed  missionary  in  the 


PART  II.]          THE  AGE  OF  REASON.  115 

last  act  of  his  mission;  and  here  it  is  that  the  malevolent 
spirit  of  a  Bible-prophet,  or  of  a  predicting  priest,  appears  in 
•11  that  blackness  of  character  that  men  ascribe  to  the  being 
they  call  the  devil. 

Having  published  his  predictions,  he  withdrew,  says  the 
story,  to  the  east  side  of  the  city.  But  for  what?  not  to  con- 
template, in  retirement,  the  mercy  of  his  Creator  to  himself 
or  to  others,  but  to  wait,  with  malignant  impatience,  the 
destruction  of  Nineveh.  It  came  to  pass,  however,  as  the 
story  relates,  that  the  Ninevites  reformed,  and  that  God,  ac- 
cording to  the  Bible-phrase,  repented  him  of  the  evil  he  had 
said  he  would  do  unto  them,  and  did  it  not.  This,  saith  the 
first  verse  of  the  last  chapter,  displeased  Jonah  exceedingly 
and  he  teas  very  angry.  His  obdurate  heart  would  rather 
that  all  Nineveh  should  be  destroyed,  and  every  soul,  young 
and  old,  perish  in  its  ruins,  than  that  his  prediction  should 
not  be  fulfilled.  To  expose  the  character  of  a  prophet  still 
more,  a  gourd  is  made  to  grow  up  in  the  night,  that  promises 
him  an  agreeable  shelter  from  the  heat  of  the  sun,  in  the 
place  to  which  he  is  retired;  and  the  next  morning  it  dies. 

Here  the  rage  of  the  prophet  becomes  excessive,  and  he 
is  ready  to  destroy  himself.  "  It  is  better,  said  he,  for  me  to 
die  than  to  live."  This  brings  on  a  supposed  expostulation 
between  the  Almighty  and  the  prophet;  in  which  the  former 
says,  "  Dost  thou  well  to  be  angry  for  the  gourd  ?  And  Jonah 
said,  I  do  well  to  be  angry  even  unto  d(  ath;  then  said  the 
Lord,  Thou  hast  had  pity  on  the  gourd,  for  which  thou  hast 
not  labored,  neither  madest  it  to  grow,  which  came  up  in  a 
night,  and  perished  in  a  night;  and  should  not  I  spare  Nine- 
ven,  that  great  city,  in  which  are  more  than  threescore  thous- 
and persons,  that  cannot  discern  between  their  right  hand 
and  their  left?" 

Here  is  both  the  winding  up  of  the  satire,  and  the  moral 
of  the  fable.  As  a  satire,  it  strikes  against  the  character  of 
all  the  Bible  prophets,  and  against  all  the  indiscriminate 

"  Amenta  upon  men,  women  and  children,  with  which  this 
book,  the  Bible,  is  crowded;  such  as  Noah's  flood,  the 
ition  of  the  cities  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah,  the  ex- 
tirpation of  the  Canaanites,  even  to  sucking  infants,  and 
women  with  child,  because  the  same  reflection,  that  there  are 
more  than  three-score  thousand  persons  that  cannot  discern 
between  their  right  hand  and  their  left,  meaning  young 


116  THE   AOB   OF   KKA8OH.  [PABT  H. 

children,  applies  to  all  their  cases.  It  satirizes,  also,  the  sup- 
posed partiality  of  the  Creator  for  one  nation  more  than  for 
another. 

As  a  moral,  it  preaches  against  the  malevolent  spirit  of 
prediction;  for,  as  certainly  as  a  man  predicts  ill,  he  becomes 
uiclined  to  wish  it.  The  pride  of  having  his  judgment  right 
hardens  his  heart,  till  at  last  he  beholds  with  satisfaction,  or 
Bees  with  disappointment,  the  accomplishment  or  the  failure 
of  hi»  predictions.  This  book  ends  with  the  same  kind  of 
strong  and  well-directed  point  against  prophets,  prophecies 
and  indiscriminate  judgments  as  the  chapter  that  Benjamin 
Franklin  made  for  the  Bible,  about  Abraham  and  the  stranger, 
ends  against  the  intolerant  spirit  of  religious  persecution. 
Thus  much  for  the  book  Jonah. 

Of  the  poetical  parts  of  the  Bible  that  are  called  prophe- 
cies, I  have  spoken  in  the  former  part  of  the  Age  of  Reason, 
and  already  in  this,  where  I  have  said  that  the  word  prophet 
IB  the  Bible  word  for  poet,  and  that  the  flights  and  metaphors 
of  those  poets,  many  of  which  have  become  obscure  by  the 
lapse  of  time  and  the  change  of  circumstances,  have  been 
ridiculously  erected  into  things  called  prophecies,  and  applied 
to  purposes  the  writers  never  thought  of.  When  a  priest 
quotes  any  of  those  passages,  he  unriddles  it  agreeably  to  his 
own  views,  and  imposes  that  explanation  upon  his  congrega- 
tion as  the  meaning  of  the  writer.  The  Whore  of  Babylon 
has  been  the  common  whore  of  all  the  priests,  and  each  has 
accused  the  other  of  keeping  the  strumpet — so  well  do  they 
agree  in  their  explanations. 

There  now  remain  only  a  few  books,  which  they  call 
books  of  the  lesser  prophets;  and,  as  I  have  already  shown 
that  the  greater  are  impostors,  it  would  be  cowardice  to  dis- 
turb the  repose  of  the  little  ones.  Let  them  sleep,  then,  in 
the  arms  of  their  nurses,  the  priests,  and  both  be  forgotten 
together. 

I  have  now  gone  through  the  Bible,  as  a  man  would  go 
through  a  wood  with  an  axe  on  his  shoulder,  and  fell  trees. 
Here  they  lie;  and  the  priests,  if  they  can,  may  replant 
them.  They  may,  perhaps,  stick  them  in  the  ground,  but 
they  will  never  make  them  grow.  I  pass  on  to  the  books  of 
the  New  Testament. 


THE  NEW  TESTAMENT. 


The  New  Testament,  they  tell  us,  is  founded  upon  the 
prophecies  of  the  Old;  if  so,  it  must  follow  the  fate  of  its 
foundation. 

As  it  is  nothing  extraordinary  that  a  woman  should  be 
with  child  before  she  is  married,  and  that  the  son  she  might 
bring  forth  should  be  executed,  even  unjustly,  I  see  no 
reason  for  not  believing  that  such  a  woman  as  Mary,  and 
such  a  man  as  Joseph,  and  Jesus,  existed;  their  mere  exist- 
ence is  a  matter  of  indifference  about  which  there  is  no 
ground  either  to  believe  or  to  disbelieve,  and  which  comes 
under  the  common  head  of  It  may  be  so;  and  what  then  f 
The  probability,  however,  is  that  there  were  such  persons, 
or  at  least  such  as  resembled  them  in  part  of  the  circum- 
stances, because  almost  all  romantic  stories  have  been  sug- 
gested by  some  actual  circumstance;  as  the  adventures  of 
Robinson  Crusoe,  not  a  word  of  which  is  true,  were  sug- 
gested by  the  case  of  Alexander  Selkirk. 

It  is  not  the  existence,  or  non-existence,  of  the  persons 
that  I  trouble  myself  about;  it  is  the  fable  of  Jesus  Christ, 
as  told  in  the  New  Testament,  and  the  wild  and  visionary 
doctrine  raised  thereon,  against  which  I  contend.  The  story, 
taking  it  as  it  is  told,  is  blasphemously  obscene.  It  gives  an 
account  of  a  young  woman  engaged  to  be  married,  and, 
while  under  this  engagement,  she  is,  to  speak  plain  language, 
debauched  by  a  ghost,  under  the  impious  pretense  (Luke, 
chap,  i.,  ver.  35,)  that  "  the  Holy  Ghost  shall  com'e  upon  thee, 
and  the  power  of  the  Highest  shall  overshadow  thee."  Not- 
withstanding which  Joseph  afterwards  marries  her,  cohabits 
with  her  as  his  wife,  and  in  his  turn  rivals  the  ghost.  This 
is  putting  the  story  into  intelligible  language,  and,  when  told 
in  this  manner,  there  is  not  a  priest  but  must  be  ashamed  to 
own  it.* 

*  Mary,  the  supposed  Tlrgln  mother  of  Jesus,  had  i«T«r*l  otlie*  *liUAr«m  tfmt 
•nd  daughter..  See  Matt. ,  chap,  illl.,  55,  56. 


118  THJJ    AOB   OF    REASON.  [PABT  IL. 

Obscenity  in  matters  of  faith,  however  wrapped  up,  is 
always  a  token  of  fable  and  imposture;  for  it  is  necessary 
to  our  serious  belief  in  God,  that  we  do  not  connect  it  with 
stories  that  run,  as  this  does,  into  ludicrous  interpretations. 
This  story  is,  upon  the  face  of  it,  the  same  kind  of  story  as 
that  of  Jupiter  and  Leda,  or  Jupiter  and  Europa,  or  any  of 
the  amorous  adventures  of  Jupiter;  and  shows,  as  is  already 
stated  in  the  former  part  of  the  Age  of  Reason,  that  the 
Christian  faith  is  built  upon  the  heathen  mythology. 

As  the  historical  parts  of  the  New  Testament,  so  far  as 
concerns  Jesus  Christ,  are  confined  to  a  very  short  space  of 
time,  less  than  two  years,  and  all  within  the  same  country, 
and  nearly  in  the  same  spot,  the  discordance  of  time,  place 
and  circumstance,  which  detects  the  fallacy  of  the  books  of 
the  Old  Testament,  and  proves  them  to  be  impositions,  can- 
not be  expected  to  be  found  here  in  the  same  abundance. 
The  New  Testament  compared  with  the  Old,  is  like  a  farce 
of  one  act,  in  which  there  is  not  room  for  very  numerous 
violations  of  the  unities.  There  are,  however,  some  glaring 
conditions,  which,  exclusive  of  the  fallacy  of  the  pretended 
prophecies,  are  sufficient  to  show  the  story  of  Jesus  Christ  to 
be  false. 

I  lay  it  down  as  a  position  which  cannot  be  controverted, 
first,  that  the  agreement  of  all  the  parts  of  a  story  does  not 
prove  that  story  to  be  true,  because  the  parts  may  agree,  and 
the  whole  may  be  false;  secondly,  that  the  disagreement  of  the 
parts  of  a  story  proves  the  whole  cannot  be  true.  The  agree- 
ment does  not  prove  truth,  but  the  disagreement  proves  false- 
hood positively. 

The  history  of  Jesus  Christ  is  contained  in  the  four  books 
ascribed  to  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke  and  John.  The  first  chap- 
ter of  Matthew  begins  with  giving  a  genealogy  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and  in  the  third  chapter  of  Luke  there  is  given  a  genealogy  of 
Jesus  Christ.  Did  these  two  agree,  it  would  not  prove  the  gene- 
alogy to  be  true,  because  it  might,  nevertheless,  be  a  fabri- 
cation ;  but  as  they  contradict  each  other  in  every  particular, 
it  proves  falsehood  absolutely.  If  Matthew  speaks  truth, 
Luke  speaks  falsehood;  and  if  Luke  speaks  truth,  Matthew 
•peaks  falsehood;  and  as  there  is  no  authority  for  believing 
one  more  than  the  other,  there  is  no  authority  for  believing 
either;  and  if  they  cannot  be  believed  even  in  the  very  first 
thing  they  say,  and  net  out  to  prove,  they  are  not  entitled  to 


FABTII.J  THE  AGB  OF  REASON.  119 

be  believed  in  anything  they  say  afterwards.  Truth  is  ac 
uniform  thing;  and  as  to  inspiration  and  revelation,  were  we 
to  admit  it,  it  is  impossible  to  suppose  it  can  be  contradictory. 
Either,  then,  the  men  called  apostles  are  impostors,  or  the 
books  ascribed  to  them  have  been  written  by  other  persons, 
and  fathered  upon  them,  as  is  the  case  with  the  Old  Testa- 
ment. 

The  book  of  Matthew  gives,  cliap.  i.,  ver.  6,  a  genealogy 
by  name  from  David,  up  through  Joseph,  the  husband  of 
Mary,  to  Christ ;  and  makes  there  to  be  twenty-eight  genera- 
tions. The  book  of  Luke  gives  also  a  genealogy  by  name 
from  Christ,  through  Joseph,  the  husband  of  Mary,  down  to 
David,  and  makes  there  to  be  forty -three  generations;  besides 
which,  there  are  only  the  two  names  of  David  and  Joseph 
that  are  alike  in  the  two  lists.  I  here  insert  both  genealog- 
ical lists,  and  for  the  sake  of  perspicuity  and  comparison, 
have  placed  them  both  in  the  same  direction,  that  is,  from 
Joseph  down  to  David. 


Genealogy,  Recording  to  Genealogy,  according  to 

Matthew.  Luke. 

Christ  Christ 

2  Joseph.  S  Joseph. 

I  Jacob.  S  Heli. 

4  Matt  ban.  4  Matthat 

5  Eleazer.  5  Levi. 

6  Eliud.  8  Melchi. 

7  Achim.  7  Janna. 

8  Sadoc,  8  Joseph, 

9  Azor.  9  Mattathiaa, 

10  Eliakim.  10  Arm*. 

11  Abiud.  11  Naum. 

12  ZorobabeL  18  Esli. 
18  Salathiel.  18  Nagge. 

14  Jechoniaa.  14  Maath. 

15  Josias.  15  Mattathia*. 

16  Amon.  18  Bemei. 

17  Manasset.  17  Joseph. 

18  Ezekiag.  18  Juda. 

19  Achaz.  19  Joanna. 

20  Joatham.  •         20  Rhesa. 

21  Ozas.  21  ZorobaboL 

22  Joram.  22  Salathiel. 
28  Josaphat  28  Nerl. 

M  Asa.  M  Melchi. 


12^  TH»   A0»  OF   KEA80B, 

9€nealogy,  according  to  Genealogy,  according  to 

Matthew.  Lake. 

IS  Abla.  85  Addl. 

88  Roboam.  2Q  Cosam. 

87  Solomoa.  27  Elmodam. 

88  Darid.*  28  Er. 

29  Jose. 

80  Eliezer. 

81  Jorim. 

82  Manual. 
88  Levi. 

84  Simeon. 

85  Juda. 
80  Joseph. 

87  Jon  an. 

88  Elakim. 

89  Melea. 

40  Mi-nan. 

41  Mattatha. 

42  Nathan. 
48  David, 

Now,  if  these  men,  Matthew  and  Luke,  set  out  will,  » 
falsehood  between  them  (as  these  two  accounts  show  they 
do)  iu  the  very  commencement  of  their  history  of  Jesus 
Christ,  and  of  whom,  and  of  what  he  was,  what  authority 
(as  I  have  before  asked)  is  there  left  for  believing  the  strange 
things  they  tell  us  afterwards?  If  they  cannot  be  believed 
in  their  account  of  his  natural  genealogy,  how  are  we  to 
believe  them  when  they  tell  us  he  was  tie  son  of  God,  be- 
gotten by  a  ghost,  and  that  an  angel  announced  this  in 
secret  to  his  mother?  If  they  lied  in  one  genealogy,  why 
are  we  to  believe  them  in  the  other?  If  his  natural  be 
manufactured,  which  it  certainly  is,  why  are  not  we  to  sup- 
pose that  his  celestial  genealogy  is  manufactured  also,  and 
that  the  whole  is  fabulous?  Can  any  man  of  serious  reflec- 
tion hazard  his  future  happiness  upon  the  belief  of  a  story 
naturally  impossible,  repugnant  to  every  idea  of  decency, 

•  From  the  birth  of  David  to  the  birth  of  Christ  Is  upwards  of  1C80  yews,  and  as 
the  lifetime  of  Christ  Is  not  Included,  there  are  but  27  full  generations.  To  find, 
therefore,  the  average  of  each  person  mentioned  in  the  list  at  the  time  his  first 
•on  was  born,  It  Is  only  necessary  to  divide  1080  by  27,  which  gives  40  years  for 
each  person.  As  the  lifetime  of  man  was  then  bat  of  the  same  extent  it  Is  now.  it 
Is  an  absurdity  to  suppose  that  27  following  generations  should  all  be  old  bache- 
lors before  they  married:  and  the  more  so  when  we  are  told  that  Solomon,  the 
•ext  in  succession  to  David,  had  a  bonse  full  of  wives  and  mistresses  before  he 
was  SI  yean  of  age.  So  far  from  this  genealogy  being  a  solemn  troth.  It  is  not 
•m  a  reasonable  lie.  The  llM  of  Lake  give*  about  i»  yean  for  Ue  average  age. 


PART  II. J  THE   AGE   OF    BEASON.  121 

and  related  by  persons  already  detected  of  falsehood?  Is 
it  not  more  safe  that  we  stop  ourselves  at  the  plain,  pure  and 
unmixed  belief  of  one  God,  which  is  deism,  than  that  we 
commit  ourselves  on  an  ocean  of  improbable,  irrational,  inde- 
cent and  contradictory  tales? 

The  first  question,  however,  upon  the  books  of  the  New 
Testament,  as  upon  those  of  the  Old,  is,  are  they  genuine? 
Were  they  written  by  the  persons  to  whom  they  are  ascribed? 
for  it  is  upon  this  ground  only  that  the  strange  things  related 
therein  have  been  credited.  Upon  this  point  there  is  no 
direct  proof  for  or  against,  and  all  that  this  state  of  a  case 
proves  is  doubtfulness,  and  doubtfulfiess  is  the  opposite  of 
belief.  The  state,  therefore,  that  the  books  are  in  proves 
against  themselves,  as  far  as  this  kind  of  proof  can  go. 

But,  exclusive  of  this,  the  presumption  is  that  the  books 
called  the  Evangelists,  and  ascribed  to  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke 
and  John,  were  not  written  by  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke  and 
John;  and  that  they  are  impositions.  The  disordered  state 
of  the  history  in  these  four  books,  the  silence  of  one  book 
xipon  matters  related  in  the  other,  and  the  disagreement  that 
is  to  be  found  among  them,  implies  that  they  are  the  pro- 
duction of  some  unconnected  individuals,  many  years  after 
the  things  they  pretend  to  relate,  each  of  whom  made  his 
own  legend;  and  not  the  writings  of  men  living  intimately 
together,  as  the  men  called  apostles  are  supposed  to  have 
done;  in  fine,  that  they  have  been  manufactured,  as  the 
books  of  the  Old  Testament  have  been,  by  other  persons 
than  those  whose  names  they  bear. 

The  story  of  the  angel  announcing  what  the  church  calls 
the  immaculate  conception  is  not  so  much  as  mentioned 
in  the  books  ascribed  to  Mark  and  John,  and  is  diil'er- 
ently  related  in  Matthew  and  Luke.  The  former  says  the 
angel  appeared  to  Joseph;  the  latter  says  it  was  to  Mary; 
but  either,  Joseph  or  Mary,  was  the  worst  evidence  that 
could  have  been  thought  of;  for  it  was  others  that  should 
have  testified  for  them,  and  not  they  for  themselves. 
Were  any  girl  that  is  now  with  child  to  say,  and  even  to 
swear  it,  that  she  was  gotten  with  child  by  a  ghost,  and 
that  an  angel  told  her  so,  would  she  be  believed?  Certainly 
she  would  not.  Why  then  are  we  to  believe  the  same  thing 
of  another  girl  whom  we  never  saw,  told  by  nobody  knows 
who,  uor  when,  nor  where?  How  strange  and  inconsistent 


129  THE    AGE    OF    REASON.  [PAKT  n. 

is  it,  that  the  same  circumstance  that  would  weaken  the  be- 
lief even  of  a  probable  story,  should  be  given  as  a  motire 
for  believing  this  one,  that  has  upon  the  face  of  it  ererr 
token  of  absolute  impossibility  and  imposture? 

The  story  of  Herod  destroying  all  the  children  under  two 
years  old,  belongs  altogether  to  the  book  of  Matthew;  not 
one  of  the  rest  mentions  anything  about  it.  Had  such  a  cir- 
cumstance been  true,  the  universality  of  it  must  have  made 
it  known  to  all  the  writers;  and  the  thing  would  have  been 
too  striking  to  have  been  omitted  by  any.  This  writer  tells 
us,  that  Jesus  escaped  this  slaughter,  because  Joseph  and 
Mary  were  warned  by  an  angel  to  flee  with  him  into  Egpyt; 
but  he  forgot  to  make  any  provision  for  John  who  was  then 
under  two  years  of  age.  John,  however,  who  staid  behind, 
fared  as  well  as  Jesus,  who  fled;  and,  therefore,  the  story 
circumstantially  belies  itself. 

Not  any  two  of  these  writers  agree  in  reciting,  exactly  \n 
ihe  same  words,  the  written  inscription,  short  as  it  is,  which 
they  tell  us  was  put  over  Christ  when  he  was  crucified;  and 
besides  this,  Mark  says,  He  was  crucified  at  the  third  hour 
(nine  in  the  morning;)  and  John  says  it  was  the  sixth  hour, 
(twelve  at  noon.*) 

The  inscription  is  thus  stated  in  those  books: 

Matthew — This  is  Jesus  the  king  of  the  Jews. 

Mark The  king  of  the  Jews. 

Luke This  is  the  king  of  the  Jews. 

John Jesus  of  Nazareth  king  of  the  Jews. 

We  may  infer  from  these  circumstances,  trivial  as  they  are, 
that  those  writers,  whoever  they  were,  and  in  whatever  time 
they  lived,  were  not  present  at  the  scene.  The  only  one  of 
the  men,  called  apostles,  who  appears  to  have  been  near  the 

rt,  was  Peter,  and  when  he  was  accused  of  being  one  of 
us'  followers,  it  is  said,  (Matthew,  chap.  xxvi.  ver.  74) 
"  Then  Peter  began  to  curse  and  to  swear,  saying,  I  know 
not  the  man!"  yet  we  are  now  called  upon  to  believe  the 
same  Peter,  convicted,  by  their  own  account,  of  perjury. 
For  what  reason,  or  on  what  authority,  shall  we  do  this? 
The  accounts  that  are  given  of  the  circumstances,  that  they 

•According  to  John,  the  sentence  was  not  punned  till  about  the  rirth  hoar, 
(noon.)  and.  coneeqnently,  the  execution  could  not  be  till  the  afternoon;  but 
Mark  cny«  expre«*lT,  that  he  wa*  crucified  ai  the  third  hoar  (.nine  in  the  mor» 
ta«.)  chip.  »v.  IB,  John  chap,  il  i  ver.  14. 


FAST  n.]  THE  AGE  OF  SEASON.  123 

tell  us  attended  the  crucifixion,  are  differently  related  in  those 
four  books. 

The  book  ascribed  to  Matthew  says,  "  There  was  darkness 
over  all  the  land  from  the  sixth  hour  unto  the  ninth  hour — 
that  the  veil  of  the  temple  was  rent  in  twain  from  the  top  to 
the  bottom — that  there  was  an  earthquake — that  the  rocks 
rent — that  the  graves  opened,  that  the  bodies  of  many  of  the 
saints  that  slept  arose  and  came  out  of  their  graves  after  the 
resurrection,  and  went  into  the  holy  city  and  appeared  unto 
many."  Such  is  the  account  which  this  dashing  writer  of 
the  book  of  Matthew  gives,  but  in  which  he  is  not  supported 
by  the  writers  of  the  other  books. 

The  writer  of  the  book  ascribed  to  Mark,  in  detailing  the 
circumstances  of  the  crucifixion,  makes  no  mention  of  any 
earthquake,  nor  of  the  rocks  rending,  nor  of  the  graves 
opening,  nor  of  the  dead  men  walking  out.  The  writer  of 
the  book  of  Luke  is  silent  also  upon  the  same  points.  And 
as  to  the  writer  of  the  book  of  John,  though  he  details  all 
the  circumstances  of  the  crucifixion  down  to  the  burial  of 
Christ,  he  says  nothing  about  either  the  darkness — the  veil 
of  the  temple — the  earthquake — the  rocks — the  graves  nor 
the  dead  men. 

Now  if  it  had  been  true,  that  those  things  had  happened; 
and  if  the  writers  of  these  books  had  lived  at  the  time  they 
did  happen,  and  had  been  the  persons  they  are  said  to  be, 
namely,  the  four  men  called  apostles,  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke 
and  John,  it  was  not  possible  for  them,  as  true  historians, 
even  without  the  aid  of  inspiration,  not  to  have  recorded 
them.  The  things,  supposing  them  to  have  been  facts,  were 
of  too  much  notoriety  not  to  have  been  known,  and  of  too 
much  importance  not  to  have  been  told.  All  these  sup- 
posed apostles  must  have  been  witnesses  of  the  earthquake, 
if  there  had  been  any;  for  it  was  not  possible  for  them  to 
have  been  absent  from  it;  the  opening  of  the  graves  and 
resurrection  of  the  dead  men,  and  their  walking  about  the 
city  is  of  greater  importance  than  the  earthquake.  An 
earthquake  is  always  possible,  and  natural,  and  proves 
nothing;  but  this  opening  of  the  graves  is  supernatural, 
mnd  directly  in  point  to  their  doctrine,  their  cause,  and 
their  apostleship.  Had  it  been  true,  it  would  have  filled 
up  whole  chapters  of  those  books,  and  been  the  chosen 
theme  and  general  chorus  of  all  the  writers;  but  instead  of 


124  THK    AQK    OK    REASON.  [PAJBT  tt. 

this,  little'and  trivial  things,  and  mere  prattling  conversations 
of,  he  taid  this  and  the  said  that,  are  often  tediously  detailed, 
while  this  most  important  of  all,  had  it  been  true,  is  passed 
off  in  &  slovenly  manner  by  a  single  dash  of  the  pen,  and 
that  by  one  writer  only,  and  not  so  much  as  hinted  at  by 
the  rest. 

It  is  an  easy  thing  to  tell  a  lie,  but  it  is  difficult  to  support 
the  lie  after  it  is  told.  The  writer  of  the  book  of  Matthew 
should  have  told  us  who  the  saints  were  that  came  to  life 
again,  and  went  into  the  city,  and  what  became  of  them 
afterwards,  and  who  it  was  that  saw  them;  for  he  is  not  hardy 
enough  to  say  that  he  saw  them  himself  ;  whether  they  came 
out  naked  and  all  in  natural  buff,  he-saints  and  she-saints; 
or  whether  they  came  full  dressed,  and  where  they  got  their 
dresses;  whether  they  went  to  their  former  habitations,  and 
reclaimed  their  wives,  their  husbands,  and  their  property, 
and  how  they  were  received;  whether  they  entered  eject- 
ments for  the  recovery  of  their  possessions,  or  brought 
actions  of  crim.  con.  against  the  rival  interlopers;  whether 
they  remained  on  earth,  and  followed  their  former  occupation 
of  preaching  or  working;  or  whether  they  died  again,  or 
went  back  to  their  graves  alive,  and  buried  themselves. 

Strange  indeed,  that  an  army  of  saints  should  return  to 
life,  and  nobody  know  who  they  were,  nor  who  it  was  that 
saw  them,  and  that  not  a  word  more  should  be  said  upon  the 
subject,  nor  these  saints  have  anything  to  tell  us  1  Had 
it  been  the  prophets  who  (as  we  are  told)  had  formerly 
prophesied  of  these  things,  they  must  have  had  a  great  deal 
to  say.  They  could  have  told  us  everything,  and  we  should 
have  had  posthumous  prophecies,  witli  notes  and  commen- 
taries upon  the  first,  a  little  better,  at  least,  than  we  have 
now.  Had  it  been  Moses,  and  Aaron,  and  Joshua,  and 
Samuel,  and  David,  not  an  unconverted  Jew  had  remained 
in  all  Jerusalem.  Had  it  been  John  the  Baptist,  and  the 
saints  of  the  time  then  present,  everybody  would  have 
known  them,  and  they  would  have  out-preached  and  out- 
famed  all  the  other  apostles.  But,  instead  of  this,  these 
saints  are  made  to  pop  up,  like  Jonah's  gourd  in  the  night, 
for  no  purpose  at  all  but  to  wither  in  the  morning.  Thus 
much  for  this  part  of  the  story. 

The  tale  of  the  resurrection  follows  that  of  the  crucifix- 
ion; and  in  this  as  well  as  in  that,  the  writers,  whoever  they 


PAJCI  n.]  TFTB   AOK   OF   BitASOH.  125 

were,  disagree  so  much,  as  to  make  it  evident  that  none  of 
them  were  there. 

The  book  of  Matthew  states  that  when  Christ  was  put  in 
the  sepulchre,  the  Jews  applied  to  Pilate  for  a  watch  or  a 
guard  to  be  placed  over  the  sepulchre,  to  prevent  the  body 
being  stolen  by  the  disciples ;  and  that,  in  consequence  of 
this  request,  the  sepulchre  was  made  sure,  sealing  the  stone 
that  covered  the  mouth,  and  setting  a  watch.  But  the  other 
books  say  nothing  about  this  application,  nor  about  the  seal- 
ing, nor  the  guard,  nor  the  watch;  and,  according  to  their 
accounts,  there  were  none.  Matthew,  however,  follows  up 
this  part  of  the  story  of  the  guard  or  the  watch  with  a  second 
part,  that  I  shall  notice  in  the  conclusion,  as  it  serves  to 
detect  the  fallacy  of  those  books. 

The  book  of  Matthew  continues  its  account,  and  says, 
(chap,  xxviii.,  ver.  1,)  that  at  the  end  of  the  Sabbath,  as  it 
began  to  dawn,  towards  the  first  day  of  the  week,  came  Mary 
Magdalene  and  the  other  Mary,  to  see  the  sepulchre.  Mark 
says  it  was  sun-rising,  and  John  says  it  was  dark.  Luke 
says  it  was  Mary  Magdalene  and  Joanna,  and  Mary  the 
mother  of  James,  and  other  women,  that  came  to  the 
sepulchre;  and  John  states  that  Mary  Magdalene  came  alone. 
So  well  do  they  agree  about  their  first  evidence  !  they  all, 
however,  appear  to  have  known  most  about  Mary  Magdalene; 
she  was  a  woman  of  large  acquaintance,  and  it  was  not  an 
ill  conjecture  that  she  might  be  upon  the  stroll. 

The  book  of  Matthew  goes  on  to  say,  (ver.  2,J  "And 
behold  there  was  a  great  earthquake,  for  the  angel  of  the 
Lord  descended  from  heaven,  and  came  and  rolled  back  the 
stone  from  the  door,  and  sat  upon  it."  But  the  other  books 
say  nothing  about  any  earthquake,  nor  about  the  angel  roll- 
ing back  the  stone,  and  sitting  upon  it;  and,  according  to 
their  account,  there  was  no  angel  sitting  there.  Mark  says 
the  angel  was  within  the  sepulchre,  sitting  on  the  right  side. 
Luke  says  there  were  two,  and  they  were  both  standing  up; 
and  John  says  they  were  both  sitting  down,  one  at  the  head 
and  the  other  at  the  feet. 

Matthew  says,  that  the  angel  that  was  sitting  upon  the 
stone  on  the  outside  of  the  sepulchre,  told  the  two  Marys 
that  Christ  was  risen,  and  that  the  women  went  away 
quickly.  Mark  says,  that  the  women,  upon  seeing  the 
•tone  rolled  away,  and  wondering  at  it,  went  into  the  sep- 


126  THE   AGE   OF   REASON.  [PA*T  H. 

ulchre,  and  that  it  was  the  angel  that  was  sitting  within 
on  the  right  side,  that  told  them  so.  Luke  says  it  was  the 
two  angels  that  were  standing  up;  and  John  says  it  was 
Jesus  Christ  himself  that  told  it  to  Mary  Magdalene;  and 
that  she  did  not  go  into  the  sepulchre,  but  only  stooped 
down  and  looked  in. 

Now,  if  the  writers  of  these  four  books  had  gone  into  a 
oourt  of  justice  to  prove  an  alibi,  (for  it  is  of  the  nature  of 
an  alibi  that  is  here  attempted  to  be  proved,  namely,  the 
absence  of  a  dead  body  by  supernatural  means,)  and  had 
they  given  their  evidence  in  the  same  contradictory  manner 
as  it  is  here  given,  they  would  have  been  in  danger  of  hav- 
ing their  ears  cropped  for  perjury,  and  would  have  justly 
deserved  it.  Yet  this  is  the  evidence,  and  these  are  the 
books  that  have  been  imposed  upon  the  world  as  being 
given  by  divine  inspiration,  and  as  the  unchangeable  word 
•f  God. 

The  writer  of  the  book  of  Matthew,  after  giving  this 
account,  relates  a  story  that  is  not  to  be  found  in  any  of 
the  other  books,  and  which  is  the  same  I  have  just  before 
alluded  to. 

**  Now,"  says  he,  (that  is,  after  the  conversation  the  women 
had  had  with  the  angel  sitting  upon  the  stone,)  u  behold 
some  of  the  watch  (meaning  the  watch  that  he  had  said  had 
been  placed  over  the  sepulchre)  came  into  the  city,  and 
•bowed  unto  the  chief  priests  all  the  things  that  were  done; 
and  when  they  were  assembled  with  the  elders,  and  had 
taken  counsel,  they  gave  large  money  unto  the  soldiers,  say- 
ing, Say  ye  that  his  disciples  came  by  night,  and  stole  him 
away  while  we  tlept;  and  if  this  come  to  the  governor's  ears 
we  will  persuade  him,  and  secure  you.  So  they  took  the 
money,  and  did  as  they  were  taught;  and  this  saying  (that 
his  disciples  stole  him  away)  is  commonly  reported  among 
the  Jews  until  this  day." 

The  expression,  until  this  day,  is  an  evidence  that  the 
book  ascribed  to  Matthew  was  not  written  by  Matthew,  and 
that  it  has  been  manufactured  long  after  the  times  and  things 
of  which  it  pretends  to  treat;  for  the  expression  implies  a 
great  length  of  intervening  time.  It  would  be  inconsistent 
in  us  to  speak  in  this  manner  of  anything  happening  in  our 
own  time.  To  give,  therefore,  intelligible  meaning  to  the 
expression,  we  must  suppose  a  lapse  of  some  generations,  at 


PART  n.]          THE  AGE  OF  REASON.  127 

least,  for  this  manner  of  speaking  carries  the  mind  baok  to 
ancient  time. 

The  absurdity,  also,  of  the  story  is  worth  noticing;  for  it 
shows  the  writer  of  the  book  of  Matthew  to  have  been  an 
exceedingly  weak  and  foolish  man.  He  tells  a  story  that 
contradicts  itself  in  point  of  possibility;  for,  though  the 
guard,  if  there  were  any,  might  be  made  to  say  that  the 
body  was  taken  away  while  they  were  asleep,  and  to  give 
that  as  a  reason  for  their  not  having  prevented  it,  that  same 
sleep  must  also  have  prevented  their  knowing  how,  and  by 
whom  it  was  done;  and  yet  they  are  made  to  say  that  it  was 
the  disciples  who  did  it.  Were  a  man  to  tender  his  evi- 
dence of  something  that  he  should  say  was  done,  and  of 
the  manner  of  doing  it,  and  of  the  person  who  did  it,  while 
he  was  asleep,  and  could  know  nothing  of  the  matter,  such 
evidence  could  not  be  received;  it  will  do  well  enough  for 
Testament  evidence,  but  not  for  anything  where  truth  is  con- 
cerned. 

I  come  now  to  that  part  of  the  evidence  in  those  books 
that  respects  the  pretended  appearance  of  Christ  after  this 
pretended  resurrection. 

The  writer  of  the  book  of  Matthew  relates  that  the  angel 
that  was  sitting  on  the  stone  at  the  mouth  of  the  sepul- 
chre said  to  the  two  Marys,  chap,  xxviii.,  ver.  7:  "  Behold, 
Christ  is  gone  before  you  into  Galilee,  there  ye  shall  see 
him;  lo,  I  have  told  you."  And  the  same  writer  at  the 
next  two  verses,  (8,  9,)  makes  Christ  himself  to  speak  to  the 
same  purpose  to  these  women  immediately  after  the  angel 
had  told  it  to  them,  and  that  they  ran  quickly  to  tell  it  to 
the  disciples;  and  at  the  16th  verse  it  is  said,  "  Then  the 
eleven  disciples  went  away  into  Gallilee,  into  a  mountain 
where  Jesus  had  appointed  them;  and  when  they  saw  him, 
they  worshiped  him." 

But  the  writer  of  the  book  of  John  tells  us  a  story  very 
different  to  this;  for  he  says,  chap,  xx.,  ver.  19:  "Then  the 
same  day,  at  evening,  being  the  first  day  of  the  week,  (that 
is,  the  same  day  that  Christ  is  said  to  have  risen,)  when  th«» 
doors  were  shut,  where  the  disciples  were  assembled,  for  fear 
of  the  Jews,  came  Jesus  and  stood  in  the  midst  of  them." 

According  to  Matthew,  the  eleven  were  marching  to  Gal- 
ilee, to  meet  Jesus  in  a  mountain,  by  his  own  appointment, 
mi  the  very  tame  when,  according  to  John,  they  were 


128  THE   AGE  OF   BKASOH.  [PAJKT  U. 

bled  in  another  place,  and  that  not  by  appointment,  but  in 
secret,  for  fear  of  the  Jews. 

The  writer  of  the  book  of  Luke  contradicts  that  of  Mat- 
thew more  pointedly  than  John  does;  for  he  says  expressly 
that  the  meeting  was  in  Jerusalem,  the  evening  of  the  same 
day  that  he  (Christ)  rose,  and  that  the  eleven  were  there. 
See  Luke,  chap.  xxiv.  ver.  13,  33. 

Now,  it  is  not  possible,  unless  we  admit  these  supposed 
disciples  the  right  of  willful  lying,  that  the  writer  of  these 
books  could  be  any  of  the  eleven  persons  called  disciples; 
for  if,  according  to  Matthew,  the  eleven  went  into  Galilee  to 
meet  Jesus  in  a  mountain  by  his  own  appointment,  on  the 
same  day  that  he  is  said  to  have  risen,  Luke  and  John  must 
have  been  two  of  that  eleven;  yet  the  writer  of  Luke  says 
expressly,  and  John  implies  as  much,  that  the  meeting  was 
that  same  day,  in  a  house  in  Jerusalem;  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  if,  according  to  Luke  and  John,  the  eleven  were  assem- 
bled in  a  house  in  Jerusalem,  Matthew  must  have  been  one 
of  that  eleven;  yet  Matthew  says  the  meeting  was  hi  a  moun- 
tain in  Galilee,  and  consequently  the  evidence  given  in  those 
books  destroys  each  other. 

The  writer  of  the  book  of  Mark  says  nothing  about  any 
meeting  in  Galilee;  but  he  says,  chap.  xvi.  ver.  12;  that 
Christ,  after  his  resurrection,  appeared  in  another  form  to 
two  of  them,  as  they  walked  into  the  country,  and  that  these 
two  told  it  to  the  residue,  who  would  not  believe  them. 
Luke  also  tells  a  story,  in  which  he  keeps  Christ  employed 
the  whole  of  the  day  of  this  pretended  resurrection, 
until  the  evening,  and  which  totally  invalidates  the  account 
of  going  to  the  mountain  in  Galilee.  He  says,  that  two  of 
them,  without  saying  which  two,  went  that  same  day  to  a 
village  called  Einmaus,  threescore  furlongs  (seven  miles  and 
a  hain  from  Jerusalem,  and  that  Christ,  in  disguise,  went 
with  them,  and  staid  with  them  unto  the  evening,  and  supped 
with  them,  aud  then  vanished  out  of  their  sight,  and  re-ap- 
peared that  game  evening  at  the  meeting  of  the  eleven  in 
Jerusalem. 

This  is  the  contradictory  manner  in  which  the  evidence  of 
this  pretended  re-appearance  of  Christ  is  stated;  the  only 
point  in  which  the  writers  a<rree,  is  the  skulking  privacy  of 
that  re-appearance;  for  whether  it  was  in  the  recess  of  a 
mountain  in  Galilee,  or  in  a  shut-up  house  in  Jerusalem,  it 


PART  n.]          THE  AGK  OF  REASON.  129 

was  still  skulking.  To  what  cause  then  are  we  to  assign  this 
•kulkiug?  On  the  one  hand,  it  is  directly  repugnant  to  the 
supposed  or  pretended  end — that  of  convincing  the  world 
that  Christ  was  risen;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  to  nave  assert- 
ed the  publicity  of  it,  would  have  exposed  the  writers  of 
those  books  to  public  detection,  and,  therefore,  they  have 
been  under  the  necessity  of  making  it  a  private  affair. 

As  to  the  account  of  Christ  being  seen  by  more  than  five 
hundred  at  once,  it  is  Paul  only  who  says  it,  and  not  the  five 
hundred  who  say  it  for  themselves.  It  is,  therefore,  the  tes- 
timony of  but  one  man,  and  that  too  of  a  man,  who  did  not, 
according  to  the  same  account,  believe  a  word  of  the  matter 
himself,  at  the  time  it  is  said  to  have  happened.  His  evi- 
dence, supposing  him  to  have  been  the  writer  of  the  15th 
chapter  of  Corinthians,  where  this  account  is  given,  is  like 
that  of  a  man  who  conies  into  a  court  of  justice  to  swear, 
that  what  he  had  sworn  before  is  false.  A  man  may  often 
see  reason,  and  he  has,  too,  always  the  right  of  changing 
his  opinion;  but  this  liberty  does  not  extend  to  matters  o/ 
fact. 

I  now  come  to  the  last  scene,  that  of  the  ascension  into 
heaven.  Here  all  fear  of  the  Jews,  and  of  everything  else 
must  necessarily  have  been  out  of  the  question:  it  was  that 
which,  if  true,  was  to  seal  the  whole;  and  upon  which  the 
reality  of  the  future  mission  of  the  disciples  was  to  rest  for 
proof.  Words,  whether  declarations  or  promises,  that  passed 
in  private,  either  in  the  recess  of  a  mountain  in  Galilee,  or  in . 
a  shut-up  house  in  Jerusalem,  even  supposing  them  to  have 
been  spoken,  could  not  be  evidence  in  public;  it  was  there- 
fore necessary  that  this  last  scene  should  preclude  the  possi- 
bility of  denial  and  dispute;  and  that  it  should  be,  as  I  have 
stated  in  the  former  part  of  the  Age  of  Reason,  as  publio 
and  as  visible  as  the  sun  at  noon-day:  at  least  it  ought  to 
have  been  as  publio  as  the  crucifixion  is  reported  to  have 
been.  But  to  come  to  the  point. 

In  the  first  place,  the  writer  of  the  book  of  Matthew  does 
not  say  a  syllable  about  it;  neither  does  the  writer  of  the 
book  of  John.  This  being  the  case,  is  it  possible  to  suppose 
that  those  writers,  who  affect  to  be  even  minute  in  other 
matters,  would  have  been  silent  upon  this,  had  it  been  true? 
The  writer  of  the  book  of  Mark  passes  it  off  in  a  careless, 
slovenly  manner,  with  a  am^le  d*u*h  of  the  pen,  as  if  he  was 


ISO  THE   AGE   OF   REASON.  [PART  H. 

tired  of  romancing,  or  ashamed  of  the  story.  So  also  does 
the  writer  of  Luke.  And  even  between  these  two,  there  IB 
not  an  apparent  agreement,  as  to  the  place  where  this  final 
parting  is  said  to  nave  been. 

The  book  of  Mark  says  that  Christ  appeared  to  the  eleven 
as  they  sat  at  meat;  alluding  to  the  meeting  of  the  eleven 
at  Jerusalem:  he  then  states  the  conversation  that  he  says 
passed  at  that  meeting;  and  immediately  after  says,  (as  a 
school-boy  would  finish  a  dull  story,)  "  So  then,  after  the 
Lord  had  spoken  unto  them,  he  was  received  up  into  heaven 
and  sat  on  the  right  hand  of  God."  But  the  writer  of  Luke 
says,  that  the  ascension  was  from  Bethany;  that  he  (Christ) 
led  them  out  as  far  <u  Bethany,  and  was  parted  from  them 
there,  and  wot  carried  up  into  heaven.  So  also  was  Mahomet: 
and,  as  to  Moses,  the  apostle  Jude  says,  ver.  9,  That  Michael 
and  ihe  devi?  disputed  about  his  body.  While  we  believe 
such  fables  as  these,  or  either  of  them,  we  believe  unworthily 
of  the  Almighty. 

I  have  now  gone  through  the  examination  of  the  four 
books  ascribed  to  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke  and  John;  and  when 
it  is  considered  that  the  whole  space  of  time  from  the  cruci- 
fixion to  what  is  called  the  ascension,  is  but  a  few  days, 
apparently  not  more  than  three  or  four,  and  that  all  the 
circumstances  are  said  to  have  happened  nearly  about  the 
same  spot,  Jerusalem;  it  is,  I  believe,  impossible  to  find,  in 
any  story  upon  record,  so  many  and  such  glaring  absurdities, 
contradictions,  and  falsehoods,  as  are  in  those  books.  They 
are  more  numerous  and  striking  than  I  had  any  expectation 
of  finding,  when  I  began  this  examination,  and  far  more  so 
than  I  had  any  idea  of  when  I  wrote  the  former  part  of  the 
Age  of  Reason.  I  had  then  neither  Bible  nor  Testament  to 
refer  to,  nor  could  I  procure  any.  My  own  situation,  even 
as  to  existence,  was  oecoming  every  day  more  precarious; 
and  as  I  was  willing  to  leave  something  behind  me  upon  the 
subject,  I  was  obliged  to  be  quick  and  concise.  The  quota- 
tions I  then  made  were  from  memory  only,  but  they  are 
correct;  and  the  opinions  I  have  advanced  in  that  work  are 
the  effect  of  the  most  clear  and  long-established  conviction 
that  the  Bible  and  the  Testament  are  impositions  upon  the 
world,  that  the  fall  of  TOBP.,  the  account  of  Jesus  Christ  being 
the  Son  of  God,  and  of  his  dying  to  appease  the  wrath  of 
God,  and  of  salvation  by  that  strange  means,  are  all  fabulous 


PART  II.]  THK    AOK    OF    BKASON.  181 

inventions,  dishonorable  to  the  wisdom  and  power  of  the 
Almighty — that  the  only  true  religion  is  Deism,  by  which  I 
then  meant,  and  now  mean,  the  belief  of  one  God,  and  an 
imitation  of  his  moral  character,  or  the  practice  of  what  are 
called  moral  virtues — and  that  it  was  upon  this  only  (so  far 
as  religion  is  concerned)  that  I  rested  all  my  hopes  of  hap- 
piness hereafter.  So  say  I  now — and  so  help  me  God. 

But  to  return  to  the  subject.  Though  it  is  impossible, 
at  this  distance  of  time,  to  ascertain  as  a  fact  who  were  the 
writers  of  those  four  books  (and  this  alone  is  sufficient  to 
hold  them  in  doubt,  and  where  we  doubt  we  do  not  believe) 
it  is  not  difficult  to  ascertain  negatively  that  they  were  not 
written  by  the  persons  to  whom  they  are  ascribed.  Th« 
contradictions  in  those  books  demonstrate  two  things: 

First,  that  the  writers  cannot  have  been  eye-witnesses  and 
ear-witnesses  of  the  matters  they  relate,  or  they  would  have 
related  them  without  those  contradictions ;  and,  conse- 
quently, that  the  books  have  not  been  written  by  the  per- 
sons called  apostles,  who  are  supposed  to  have  been  witnesses 
of  this  kind. 

Secondly,  that  the  writers,  whoever  they  were,  have  not 
acted  in  concerted  imposition,  but  each  writer  separatelj 
and  individually  for  himself,  and  without  the  knowledge  of 
the  other. 

The  same  evidence  that  applies  to  prove  the  one,  applies 
equally  to  prove  both  cases  ;  that  is,  that  the  books  were 
not  written  by  the  men  called  apostles,  and  also  that  the^r 
are  not  a  concerted  imposition.  As  to  inspiration,  it  is 
altogether  out  of  the  question;  and  we  may  as  well  attempt 
to  unite  truth  and  falsehood,  as  inspiration  and  contradic- 
tion. 

If  four  men  are  eye-witnesses  and  ear- witnesses  to  a  scene, 
they  will,  without  any  concert  between  them,  agree  as  to 
time  and  place,  when  and  where  that  scene  happened.  Their 
individual  knowledge  of  the  thing,  each  one  knowing  it  for 
himself,  renders  concert  totally  unnecessary;  the  one  will  not 
say  it  was  in  a  mountain  in  the  country,  and  the  other  at  a 
house  in  town:  the  one  will  not  say  it  was  at  sun-rise,  and 
the  other  it  was  dark.  For  in  whatever  place  it  was,  at 
whatever  time  it  was,  they  know  it  equally  alike. 

And,  on  the  other  hand,  if  four  men  concert  a  story,  they 
will  make  their  separate  relations  of  that  story  agree,  and 


189  THE   AGE   OF   REA8OH.  [*ABT  II. 

corroborate  with  each  other  to  support  the  whole.  That 
concert  supplies  the  want  of  fact  in  the  one  case,  as  the 
knowledge  of  the  fact  supersedes,  in  the  other  case,  the 
necessity  of  a  concert.  The  same  contradictions,  therefore, 
that  prove  there  has  been  no  concert,  prove,  also,  that  the 
reporters  had  no  knowledge  of  the  fact,  (or  rather  of  that 
which  they  relate  as  a  fact,)  and  detect  also  the  falsehood  of 
their  reports.  Those  books,  therefore,  have  neither  been 
written  by  the  men  called  apostles,  nor  by  impostors  in  con- 
cert. How  then  have  they  been  written? 

I  am  not  one  of  those  who  are  fond  of  believing  there  ia 
much  of  that  which  is  called  willful  lying,  or  lying  originally, 
except  in  the  case  of  men  setting  up  to  be  prophets,  as  in 
the  Old  Testament;  for  prophesying  is  lying  professionally. 
In  almost  all  other  cases  it  is  not  difficult  to  discover  the 
progress  by  which  even  simple  supposition,  with  the  aid  of 
credulity,  will,  in  time,  grow  into  a  lie,  and  at  last  be  told 
as  a  fact;  and,  whenever  we  can  find  a  charitable  reason  for 
a  thing  of  this  kind,  we  ought  not  to  indulge  a  severe  one. 

The  story  of  Jesus  Christ  appearing  after  he  was  dead,  is 
the  story  of  an  apparition,  such  as  timid  imaginations  can 
always  create  in  vision,  and  credulity  believe.  Stories  of 
this  kind  had  been  told  of  the  assassination  of  Julius  Caesar, 
not  many  years  before,  and  they  generally  have  their  origin 
in  violent  deaths,  or  in  the  execution  of  innocent  persons. 
In  cases  of  this  kind,  compassion  lends  its  aid,  and  benevo- 
lently stretches  the  story.  It  goes  on  a  little  and  a  little 
further,  till  it  becomes  a  most  certain  truth.  Once  start  a 
ghost,  and  credulity  fills  up  the  history  of  its  life,  and  assigns 
the  cause  of  its  appearance  1  one  tells  it  one  way,  another 
another  way,  till  there  are  as  many  stories  about  the  ghost, 
and  about  the  proprietor  of  the  ghost,  as  there  are  about 
Jesus  Christ  in  these  four  books. 

The  story  of  the  appearance  of  Jesus  Christ  is  told  with 
that  strange  mixture  of  the  natural  and  impossible  that  dis- 
tinguishes legendary  tale  from  fact.  He  is  represented  as 
suddenly  coming  in  and  going  out  when  the  doors  are  shut, 
and  of  vanishing  out  of  sight,  and  appearing  again,  as  one 
would  conceive  of  an  unsubstantial  vision;  then  again  he 
is  hungry,  sits  down  to  meat,  and  eats  his  supper.  But 
M  those  who  tell  stories  of  this  kind  never  provide  for  all 
the  oases,  no  it  is  here;  they  have  told  us,  that  when  he 


PART  n.]          THE  AGB  OF  SEASON.  135 

he  left  his  grave-clothes  behind  him;  but  they  have  forgot- 
ten to  provide  other  clothes  for  him  to  appear  in  after- 
wards, or  tell  to  us  what  he  did  with  them  when  he  ascended, 
whether  he  stripped  all  off,  or  went  up  clothes  and  all.  In 
the  case  of  Elijah,  they  have  been  careful  enough  to  make 
him  throw  down  his  mantle;  how  it  happened  not  to  be 
burnt  in  the  chariot  of  fire  they  also  have  not  told  us. 
But,  as  imagination  supplies  all  deficiencies  of  this  kind, 
we  may  suppose,  if  we  please,  that  it  was  made  of  salaman- 
der's wool. 

Those  who  are  not  much  acquainted  with  ecclesiastical 
history  may  suppose  that  the  book  called  the  New  Testa- 
ment has  existed  ever  since  the  time  of  Jesus  Christ,  as  they 
suppose  that  the  books  ascribed  to  Moses  have  existed  ever 
since  the  time  of  Moses.  But  the  fact  is  historically  other- 
wise; there  was  no  such  book  as  the  New  Testament  till 
more  than  three  hundred  years  after  the  time  that  Christ  i» 
said  to  have  lived. 

At  what  time  the  books  ascribed  to  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke 
and  John  began  to  appear  is  altogether  a  matter  of  uncer- 
tainty. There-  is  not  the  least  shadow  of  evidence  of  who 
the  persons  were  that  wrote  them,  nor  at  what  time  they 
were  written;  and  they  might  as  well  have  been  called  by 
the  names  of  any  of  the  other  supposed  apostles  as  by  the 
names  they  are  now  called.  The  originals  are  not  in  the 
possession  of  any  Christian  Church  existing,  any  more  than 
the  two  tables  of  stone  written  on,  they  pretend,  by  the 
finger  of  God,  upon  Mount  Sinai,  and  given  to  Moses,  are 
in  the  possession  of  the  Jews.  And  even  if  they  were,  there 
is  no  possibility  of  proving  the  handwriting  in  either  case. 
At  the  time  those  books  were  written  there  was  no  print- 
ing, and  consequently  there  could  be  no  publication,  other- 
wise than  by  written  copies,  which  any  man  might  make  or 
alter  at  pleasure,  and  call  them  originals.  Can  we  suppose 
it  is  consistent  with  the  wisdom  of  the  Almighty  to  commit 
himself  and  his  will  to  man,  upon  such  precarious  means  u 
these,  or  that  it  is  consistent  we  should  pin  our  faith  upon 
such  uncertainties?  We  cannot  make  nor  alter,  nor  even 
imitate,  so  much  as  one  blade  of  grass  that  he  has  made, 
and  yet  we  can  make  or  alter  words  of  God  as  easily  as 
words  of  man.* 

•The  former  part  of  the  Age  of  Rf.nunn  has  not  been  published  two  yean,  to4 
MMM  U  »jr»»<tr  u  ftxprauian  In  It  thut  !•  not  tnlua      The  erpreacion  \m:   Tl*  fe*A 


184  THK  AOB  OF  BEA8ON.          [PART  n. 

About  three  hundred  and  fifty  years  after  the  time  that 
Christ  is  said  to  have  lived,  several  writings  of  the  kind  I 
am  speaking  of  were  scattered  in  the  hands  of  divers  indi- 
viduals; and,  as  the  church  had  begun  to  form  itself  into  an 
hierarchy,  or  church  government,  with  temporal  powers,  it 
set  itself  about  collecting  them  into  a  code,  as  we  now  see 
them,  called  The  New  Testament.  They  decided  by  vote, 
as  I  have  before  said  in  the  former  part  of  the  Age  of  Reason, 
which  of  those  writings,  out  of  the  collection  they  had  made, 
should  be  the  word  of  God,  and  which  should  not.  The  Rab- 
bins of  the  Jews  had  decided,  by  vote,  upon  the  books  of  the 
Bible  before. 

As  the  object  of  the  church,  as  is  the  case  in  all  national 
establishments  of  churches,  was  power  and  revenue,  and 
terror  the  means  it  used,  it  is  consistent  to  suppose,  that 
the  most  miraculous  and  wonderful  of  the  writings  they 
had  collected  stood  the  best  chance  of  being  voted.  And  as 
to  the  authenticity  of  the  books,  the  vote  stands  in  the  place 
qf  it ;  for  it  can  be  traced  no  higher. 

Disputes,  however,  ran  high  among  the  people  then  calling 
themselves  Christians;  not  only  as  to  points  of  doctrine,  but 
as  to  the  authenticity  of  the  books.  In  the  contest  between 
the  persons  called  St.  Augustine  and  Fauste,  about  the  year 
400,  the  hitter  says,  «  The  books  called  the  Evangelists  have 
been  composed  long  after  the  times  of  the  apostles,  by  some 
obscure  men,  who,  fearing  that  the  world  would  not  give 
credit  to  their  relation  of  matters  of  which  they  could  not 
be  informed,  have  published  them  under  the  names  of  the 
apostles;  and  which  ate  so  full  of  sottishness  and  discord- 
ant relations,  that  there  is  neither  agreement  nor  connection 
between  them." 

And  in  another  place,  adressing  himself  to  the  advocates 
of  those  books,  as  being  the  word  of  God,  he  says,  "  It  is 
thus  that  your  predecessors  have  inserted  in  the  scriptures 
of  our  Lord,  many  things,  which,  though  they  carry  his  name, 

qf  Lvk«  wot  carried  by  a  majority  of  ont  voice  only.  It  may  be  trne,  but  it  U 
not  I  that  have  said  it.  Some  person  who  might  know  the  circumstance.  hM 
added  It  in  a  note  at  the  bottom  of  the  page  of  some  of  the  editions,  printed  either 
in  England  or  in  America;  and  the  printers,  after  that,  have  erected  it  into  th« 
body  of  the  work,  and  made  me  the  author  of  it.  If  this  has  happened  within 
ouch  a  short  space  of  time,  notwithstanding  the  aid  of  printing,  which  prevent* 
the  alteration  of  copies  individually,  what  may  not  have  happened  in  much 
greater  length  of  time,  when  there  was  no  printing,  and  when  nny  man  who  could 
write  could  make  a  written  copy  and  call  ft  an  original,  by  Matthew,  Mark,  Luk« 


PART  II.J          THB  AOK  OF  SEASON.  185 

agree  not  with  his  doctrines.  This  is  not  surprising,  since 
that  toe  have  often  proved  that  these  things  have  not  been 
written  by  himself,  nor  by  his  apostles,  but  that  for  the 
greatest  part  they  are  founded  upon  tales,  upon  vague  reports, 
and  put  together  by  I  know  not  what,  half  Jews,  with  but 
little  agreement  between  them;  and  which  they  have  neverthe- 
less published  under  the  names  of  the  apostles  of  our  Lord, 
and  have  thus  attributed  to  them  their  own  errors  and  their 
lies?* 

The  reader  will  see  by  these  extracts,  that  the  authen- 
ticity of  the  books  of  the  New  Testament  was  denied,  and 
the  books  treated  as  tales,  forgeries,  and  lies,  at  the  time 
they  were  voted  to  be  the  word  of  God.  But  the  interest  of 
the  church,  with  .the  asistance  of  the  faggot,  bore  down  the 
opposition,  and  at  last  suppressed  all  investigation.  Miracles 
followed  upon  miracles,  if  we  will  believe  them,  and  men  were 
taught  to  say  they  believed,  whether  they  believed  or  not. 
But  (by  way  of  throwing  in  a  thought)  the  French  Revolu- 
tion has  excommunicated  the  churcn  from  the  power  of 
working  miracles;  she  has  not  been  able,  with  the  assistance 
of  all  her  saints,  to  work  one  miracle  since  the  revolution 
began;  and  as  she  never  stood  in  greater  need  than  now,  we 
may,  without  the  aid  of  divination,  conclude  that  all  her 
former  miracles  were  tricks  and  lies.f 

When  we  consider  the  lapse  of  more  than  three  hundred 

•  I  have  taken  these  two  extract*  from  Bonlanger'  •  Life  of  Paul,  written  la 
French;  Bonlanger  has  quoted  them  from  the  writing!  of  Augustine  against 
Fauste,  to  which  he  refers. 

t  Bonlanger,  In  hla  life  of  Paul,  ha*  collected  from  the  ecclesiastical  histories, 
and  the  writings  of  the  fathers,  as  they  are  called,  several  matters  which  show 
the  opinions  that  prevailed  among  the  different  sects  of  Christians,  at  the  time 
the  Testament,  as  we  now  see  it,  was  voted  to  be  the  word  of  God.  The  following 
extracts  are  fi  om  the  second  chapter  of  that  work : 

"The  Marcionists,  (a  Christian  sect,)  assured  that  the  evangelists  were  filled 
with  falsities.  The  Manlchaens,  who  formed  a  very  numerous  sect  at  the  com- 
mencement of  Christianity,  rejected  as  false,  all  the  New  Testament  ;  and 
•howed  other  writings  quite  different  that  they  gave  for  authentic.  The  Corinthi- 
ans, like  the  Marciouists,  admitted  not  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles.  The  Kncra- 
tttea,  and  the  Sevenians,  adopted  neither  the  Acts  nor  the  Epistles  of  Paul. 
Chrysostom,  in  a  homily  which  he  made  upon  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  says,  that 
in  his  time,  about  the  year  400,  many  people  kuew  nothing  either  of  the  author  or 
of  the  book.  St.  Irene,  who  lived  before  that  time,  reports  that  the  Valentinians, 
like  several  other  sects  of  the  Christians,  accused  the  scriptures  with  being 
•filled  with  imperfections,  errors  and  contradictions.  The  Ebionites  or  Nazarenes, 
who  were  the  first  Christians,  rejected  all  the  Epistles  of  Paul,  and  regarded 
him  as  an  impostor.  They  report,  among  other  things,  that  he  was  originally  a 
Pagan,  that  he  came  to  Jerusalem,  where  he  lived  some  time;  aud  that  naving  a 
mind  to  marry  the  danphter  of  the  high  priest,  he  caused  himself  to  be  circum- 
cised; but  that  not  being  able  to  obtain  her,  he  quarreled  with  the  Jews,  and 
wrote  against  circumcision,  and  against  the  observation  of  the  Sabbath,  and 
«ct*in«  all  th*  legal  ordinance*  •' 


136  THB    AOB   OF    RKASOM. 

yean  intervening  between  the  time  that  Christ  is  said  to 
hare  lived  and  the  time  the  New  Testament  was  formed  into 
*  book,  we  must  see,  even  without  the  assistance  of  his- 
torical evidence,  the  exceeding  uncertainty  there  is  of 
its  authenticity.  The  authenticity  of  the  book  of  Homer, 
BO  far  as  regards  the  authorship,  is  much  better  established 
than  that  of  the  New  Testament,  though  Homer  is  a  thou- 
sand years  the  most  ancient.  It  was  only  an  exceeding  good 
poet  that  could  have  written  the  book  of  Homer,  and,  there- 
fore, few  men  only  could  have  attempted  it;  and  a  man  capa- 
ble of  doing  it  would  not  have  thrown  away  his  own  fame  by 
giving  it  to  another.  In  like  manner,  there  were  but  few 
that  could  have  composed  Euclid's  Elements,  because  none 
but  an  exceeding  good  geometrician  could  have  been  the 
author  of  that  work. 

But,  with  respect  to  the  books  of  the  New  Testament, 
particularly  such  parts  as  tell  us  of  the  resurrection  and 
ascension  of  Christ,  any  person  who  could  tell  a  story  of  an 
apparition,  or  of  a  man  s  walking^  could  have  made  such 
books,  for  the  story  is  most  wretchedly  told.  The  chance, 
therefore,  of  forgery  in  the  Testament  is  millions  to  one 
greater  than  in  the  case  of  Homer  or  Euclid.  Of  the  nu- 
merous priests  or  parsons  of  the  present  day,  bishops  and  all, 
every  one  of  them  can  make  a  sermon,  or  translate  a  scrap 
of  Latin,  especially  if  it  has  been  translated  a  thousand 
times  before;  but  is  there  any  amongst  them  that  can  write 
poetry  like  Homer,  or  science  like  Euclid?  The  sum  total  of 
a  parson's  learning,  with  very  few  exceptions,  is  a  b  a#,  and 
hiCy  AOBC,  hoc;  and  their  knowledge  of  science  is  three  times 
one  is  three;  and  this  is  more  than  sufficient  to  have  enabled 
them,  had  they  lived  at  the  time,  to  have  written  all  the 
books  of  the  New  Testament. 

As  the  opportunities  for  forgeries  were  greater,  so,  also, 
was  the  inducement.  A  man  could  gain  no  advantage  by 
writing  under  the  name  of  Homer  or  Euclid;  if  he  could 
write  equal  to  them,  it  would  be  better  that  he  wrote  under 
his  own  name;  if  inferior,  he  could  not  succeed.  Pride 
would  prevent  the  former,  and  impossibility  the  latter.  But 
with  respect  to  such  books  as  compose  the  New  Testament, 
all  the  inducements  were  on  the  side  of  forgery.  The  best- 
imagined  history  that  could  have  been  made,  at  the  distance 
of  two  or  three  hundred  years  after  the  time,  could  not  have 


PAKT  II.]  THE    AGE    OF    BJU.SON.  137 

passed  for  an  original  under  the  name  of  the  real  writer; 
the  only  chance  of  success  lay  in  forgery,  for  the  church 
wanted  pretense  for  its  new  doctrine,  and  truth  and  talents 
were  out  of  the  question. 

But  as  it  is  not  uncommon  (as  before  observed)  to  relate 
stories  of  persons  walking  after  they  are  dead,  and  of  ghosts 
and  apparitions  of  such  as  have  fallen  by  some  violent  or 
extraordinary  means;  and  as  the  people  of  that  day  were 
in  the  habit  of  believing  such  things,  and  of  the  appearance 
of  angels,  and  also  of  devils,  and  of  their  getting  into  peo- 
ple's insides,  and  shaking  them  like  a  fit  of  an  ag.ue,  and  of 
their  being  cast  out  again  as  if  by  an  emetic — (Mary  Mag- 
dalene, the  book  of  Mark  tells  us,  had  brought  up,  or  been 
brought  to  bed  of  seven  devils) — it  was  nothing  extraordi- 
nary that  some  story  of  this  kind  should  get  abroad  of  the 
person  called  Jesus  Christ,  and  become  afterwards  the  foun- 
dation of  the  four  books  ascribed  to  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke 
and  John.  Each  writer  told  the  tale  as  he  heard  it,  or  there- 
abouts, and  gave  to  his  book  the  name  of  the  saint  or  the 
apostle  whom  tradition  had  given  as  the  eye-witness.  It  is 
only  upon  this  ground  that  the  contradiction  in  those  books 
can  be  accounted  for;  and  if  this  be  not  the  case,  they  are 
downright  impositions,  lies  and  forgeries,  without  even  the 
apology  of  credulity. 

That  they  have  been  written  by  a  sort  of  half  Jews,  as  the 
foregoing  quotations  mention,  is  discernible  enough.  The 
frequent  references  made  to  that  chief  assassin  and  impostor, 
Moses,  and  the  two  men  called  prophets,  establishes  this 
point;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  church  has  complimented 
the  fraud  by  admitting  the  Bible  and  the  Testament  to  reply 
to  each  other.  Between  the  Christian  Jew  and  the  Christian 
Gentile,  the  thing  called  a  prophecy,  and  the  thing  prophe- 
sied; the  type,  and  the  thing  typified;  the  sign,  and  the 
thing  signified,  have  been  industriously  rummaged  up,  and 
fitted  together  like  old  locks  and  pick-lock  keys.  The 
fatory  foolishly  enough  told  of  Eve  and  the  serpent,  and 
naturally  enough  as  to  the  enmity  between  men  and  ser- 
pents, (for  the  serpent  always  bites  about  the  heel,  because 
it  cannot  reach  higher;  and  the  man  always  knocks  the  ser- 
pent about  the  head,  as  the  most  effectual  way  to  prevent  iti 
biting;41)  this  foolish  story,  I  say,  has  been  made  into  a 

,  «h*»  UiL. 


138  TUB    AOK    OF    KEA3ON.  [PART  IX. 

prophecy,  a  type,  and  a  promise  to  begin  with;  and  the  lying 
imposition  of  Isaiah  to  Aluiz,  That  a  virgin  shalt  conceive 
and  bear  a  son,  as  a  sign  that  Ahaz  should  conquer,  when 
the  event  was  that  he  was  defeated  (as  already  noticed  in  the 
observations  on  the  book  of  Isaiah,)  has  been  perverted,  and 
made  to  serve  as  a  winder-up. 

Jonah  and  the  whale  are  almost  made  into  a  sign  or  a 
type.  Jonah  is  Jesus,  and  the  whale  is  the  grave;  for  it  i» 
said,  (and  they  have  made  Christ  to  say  it  of  himself,)  Matt,, 
chap.  xviL,  ver.  40:  "  For  as  Jonah  was  three  dayt  and  three 
nights  in  the  whale's  belly,  so  shall  the  Son  of  man  be  three 
dayt  and  three  nights  in  the  heart  of  the  earth."  But  it 
happens,  awkwardly  enough,  that  Christ,  according  to  their 
own  account,  was  but  one  day  and  two  nights  in  the  grave; 
about  36  hours  instead  of  72;  that  is,  the  Friday  night, 
the  Saturday,  and  the  Saturday  night;  for  they  say  he 
was  up  on  the  Sunday  morning  by  sunrise,  or  before.  But 
as  this  fits  quite  as  well  as  the  bite  and  the  kick  in  Genesis, 
or  the  virgin  and  her  son  in  Isaiah,  it  will  pass  in  the  lump 
of  orthodox  things.  Thus  much  for  the  historical  part  of 
the  Testament  and  its  evidences. 

Epistles  of  Paul. — The  epistles  ascribed  to  Paul,  being 
fourteen  in  number,  almost  fill  up  the  remaining  part  of  the 
Testament.  Whether  those  epistles  were  written  by  the 
person  to  whom  they  are  ascribed,  is  a  matter  of  no  great 
importance,  since  the  writer,  whoever  he  was,  attempts  to 
prove  his  doctrine  by  argument.  He  does  not  pretend  to 
have  been  witness  to  any  of  the  scenes  told  of  the  resur- 
rection and  the  ascension,  and  he  declares  that  he  had  not 
believed  them. 

The  story  of  his  being  struck  to  the  ground  as  he  was 
journeying  to  Damascus,  has  nothing  in  it  miraculous  or 
extraordinary;  he  escaped  with  life,  and  that  is  more  than 
many  others  have  done,  who  have  been  struck  with  light- 
ning; and  that  he  should  lose  his  sight  for  three  days,  and 
be  unable  to  eat  or  drink  during  that  time,  is  nothing  more 
than  is  common  in  such  conditions.  His  companions  that 
were  with  him  appear  not  to  have  suffered  in  the  same  man- 
ner, for  they  were  well  enough  to  lead  him  the  remainder  of 
the  journey;  neither  did  they  pretend  to  have  seen  any 
rision. 

The  character  of  the  person  called  Paul,  according-  to  the 


PART  II. J  TUB  AGE  Of  REASON.  139 

account  given  of  him,  has  in  it  a  great  deal  of  violence  and 
fanaticism;  he  had  persecuted  with  as  much  heat  as  he 
preached  atterwards;  the  stroke  he  had  received  had  changed 
his  thinking,  without  altering  his  constitution;  and,  either 
as  a  Jew  or  a  Christian,  he  was  the  same  zealot.  Such  men 
are  never  good  moral  evidences  of  any  doctrine  they 
preach.  They  are  always  in  extremes,  as  well  of  action  aa 
of  belief. 

The  doctrine  he  sets  out  to  prove  by  argument,  is  the 
resurrection  of  the  same  body;  and  he  advances  this  as  an 
evidence  of  immortality.  But  so  much  will  men  differ  in 
their  manner  of  thinking,  and  in  the  conclusions  they  draw 
from  the  same  premises,  that  this  doctrine  of  the  resurrec- 
tion of  the  same  body,  so  far  from  being  an  evidence  of  im- 
mortality, appears  to  me  to  furnish  an  evidence  against  it; 
for  if  I  had  already  died  in  this  body,  and  am  raised  again 
in  the  same  body  in  which  I  have  died,  it  is  presumptive 
evidence  that  I  shall  die  again.  That  resurrection  no  more 
secures  me  against  the  repetition  of  dying,  than  an  ague- 
fit,  when  past,  secures  me  against  another.  To  believe, 
therefore,  in  immortality,  I  must  have  a  more  elevated  idea 
than  is  contained  in  the  gloomy  doctrine  of  the  resurrection. 

Besides,  as  a  matter  of  choice,  as  well  as  of  hope,  I  had 
rather  have  a  better  body  and  a  more  convenient  form  than 
the  present.  Every  animal  in  the  creation  excels  us  in 
something.  The  winged  insects,  without  mentioning  doves 
or  eagles,  can  pass  over  more  space  with  greater  ease,  in  a 
few  minutes,  than  a  man  can  in  an  hour.  The  glide  of  the 
smallest  fish,  in  proportion  to  its  bulk,  exceeds  us  in 
motion,  almost  beyond  comparison,  and  without  weariness. 
Even  the  sluggish  snail  can  ascend  from  the  bottom  of  a 
dungeon,  where  a  man,  by  the  want  of  that  ability,  would 
perish;  and  a  spider  can  launch  itself  from  the  top,  as  a 
playful  amusement.  The  personal  powers  of  man  are  so 
limited,  and  his  heavy  frame  so  little  constructed  to  exten- 
sive enjoyment,  that  there  is  nothing  to  induce  us  to  wish 
the  opinion  of  Paul  to  be  true.  It  is  too  little  for  the  mag- 
nitude of  the  scene — too  mean  for  the  sublimity  of  the  sub- 
ject. 

But  all  other  arguments  apart,  the  consciottsnesg  of  exist- 
ence is  the  only  conceivable  idea  we  can  have  of  another 
life,  and  the  continuance  of  that  consciousness  is  immortal- 


140  THK   AO*   OF   KEA80N.  [PAKT  O. 

ity.  The  consciousness  of  existence,  or  the  knowing  that 
we  exist,  is  not  necessarily  confined  to  the  same  form,  nor  to 
the  same  matter,  even  in  this  life. 

We  have  not  in  all  cases  the  same  form,  nor  in  any  case 
the  iame  matter,  that  compobed  our  bodies  twenty  or  thirty 
years  ago;  and  yet  we  are  conscious  of  being  the  same  per- 
sons. Even  legs  and  arms  which  make  up  almost  half  the 
human  frame,  are  not  necessary  to  the  consciousness  of 
existence.  These  may  be  lost  or  taken  away,  and  the  full 
consciousness  of  existence  remain;  and  were  their  place 
supplied  by  wings,  or  other  appendages,  we  cannot  con- 
ceive that  it  could  alter  our  consciousness  of  existence. 
In  short,  we  know  not  how  much,  or  rather  how  little,  of 
our  composition  it  is,  and  how  exquisitely  fine  that  little  is, 
that  creates  in  us  this  consciousness  of  existence;  and  all  be- 
yond that  is  like  the  pulp  of  a  peach,  distinct  and  separate 
from  the  vegetative  speck  in  the  kernel. 

Who  can  say  by  what  exceeding  fine  action  of  fine  matter 
it  is  that  a  thought  is  produced  in  what  we  call  the  mind? 
and  yet  that  thought  when  produced,  as  I  now  produce  the 
thought  I  am  writing,  is  capable  of  becoming  immortal,  and 
is  the  only  production  of  man  that  has  that  capacity. 

Statues  of  brass  and  marble  will  perish;  and  statues  made 
in  imitation  of  them  are  not  the  same  statues,  nor  the  same 
workmanship,  any  more  than  the  copy  of  a  picture  is  the 
same  picture.  But  print  and  reprint  a  thought  a  thousand 
times  over,  and  that  with  materials  of  any  kind — carve  it  in 
wood,  or  engrave  it  on  stone,  the  thought  is  eternally  and 
identically  the  same  thought  in  every  case.  It  has  a  capacity 
of  unimpaired  existence,  unaffected  by  change  of  matter, 
and  is  essentially  distinct,  and  of  a  nature  different  from 
everything  else  that  we  know  or  can  conceive.  If  then  the 
thing  produced  has  in  itself  a  capacity  of  being  immortal,  it 
is  more  than  a  token  that  the  power  that  produced  it,  which 
is  the  self-same  thing  as  consciousness  of  existence,  can  be 
immortal  also;  and  that  is  independently  of  the  matter  it  was 
first  connected  with,  as  the  thought  is  of  the  printing  or 
writing  it  first  appeared  in.  The  one  idea  is  not  more  diffi- 
cult to  believe  than  the  other,  and  we  can  see  that  one  is 
true. 

That  the  consciousness  of  existence  is  not  dependent  on 
the  same  form  or  the  same  matter,  is  demonstrated  to  our 


PAST  II.]  THE  AGE  OF  REASON.  141 

senses  in  the  works  of  the  creation,  as  far  as  our  senses  are 
capable  of  receiving  that  demonstration.  A  very  numerous 
part  of  the  animal  creation  preaches  to  us,  far  better  than 
Paul,  the  belief  of  a  life  hereafter.  Their  little  life  resembles 
an  earth  and  a  heaven — a  present  and  a  future  state:  and 
comprises,  if  it  may  be  so  expressed,  immortality  in  minia- 
ture. 

The  most  beautiful  parts  of  the  creation  to  our  eye  are  the 
winged  insects,  and  they  are  not  so  originally.  They  acquire 
that  form,  and  that  inimitable  brilliancy  by  progressive 
changes.  The  slow  and  creeping  caterpillar-worm  of  to-day, 
passes  in  a  few  days  to  a  torpid  figure,  and  a  state  resembling 
death ;  and  in  the  next  change  comes  forth  in  all  the  minia- 
ture magnificence  of  life,  a  splendid  butterfly.  No  resem- 
blance of  the  former  creature  remains;  everything  is  chang- 
ed; all  his  powers  are  new,  and  life  is  to  him  another  thing. 
We  cannot  conceive  that  the  consciousness  of  existence  is 
not  the  same  in  this  state  of  the  animal  as  before;  why  then 
must  I  believe  that  the  resurrection  of  the  same  body  is 
necessary  to  continue  to  me  the  consciousness  of  existence 
hereafter? 

In  the  former  part  of  the  Age  of  Reason^  I  have  called 
the  creation  the  only  true  and  real  word  of  God;  and  this  in- 
stance, of  this  text,  in  the  book  of  creation,  not  only  shows 
to  us  that  this  thing  may  be  so,  but  that  it  is  so;  and  that 
the  belief  of  a  future  state  is  a  rational  belief,  founded  upon 
facts  visible  in  the  creation:  for  it  is  no  more  difficult  to  believe 
that  we  shall  exist  hereafter  in  a  better  state  and  form  than 
at  present,  than  that  a  worm  should  become  a  butterfly,  and 
quit  the  dunghill  for  the  atmosphere,  if  we  did  not  know  it 
as  a  fact. 

As  to  the  doubtful  jargon  ascribed  to  Paul  in  the  15th 
chapter  of  1  Corinthians,  which  makes  part  of  the  burial  ser- 
vice of  some  Christian  sectaries,  it  is  as  destitute  of  meaning 
as  the  tolling  of  the  bell  at  a  funeral;  it  explains  nothing  to 
the  understanding — it  illustrates  nothing  to  the  imagination, 
but  leaves  the  reader  to  find  any  meaning  if  he  can.  "  All 
flesh,  (says  he,)  is  not  the  same  flesh.  There  is  one  flesh  of 
men;  another  of  beasts;  another  of  fishes;  and  another  of 
birds."  And  what  then? — nothing.  A  cook  could  have  said 
as  much.  "There  are  also,  (says  he,)  bodies  celestial  and 
bodiea  terrestrial;  the  glory  of  the  celestial  is  one,  and  the 


142  THE   AGE    OF    REASON.  [PAKT II. 

glory  of  the  terrestrial  is  another."  And  what  then?  noth- 
ing. And  what  is  the  difference  ?  nothing  that  he  has  told. 
"  There  is  (says  he)  one  glory  of  the  sun,  and  another  glory 
of  the  moon,  and  another  glory  of  the  stars."  And  what 
then? — nothing;  except  that  he  says  that  "one  star  differeth 
from  another  star  in  glory"  instead  of  distance;  and  he 
might  as  well  have  told'  us  that,  the  moon  did  not  shine  so 
bright  as  the  sun.  All  this  is  nothing  better  than  the  jargon 
of  a  conjuror,  who  picks  up  phrases  he  does  not  understand, 
to  confound  the  credulous  people  who  come  to  have  their 
fortunes  told.  Priests  and  conjurors  are  of  the  same  trade. 

Sometimes  Paul  affects  to  be  a  naturalist,  and  to  prove 
his  system  of  resurrection  from  the  principles  of  vegetation. 
"Thou  fool  (says  he,)  that  which  thou  sowest  is  not  quick- 
ened except  it  die."  To  which  one  might  reply  in  his 
own  language  and  say,  Thou  fool,  Paul,  that  which  thou 
sowest  is  not  quickened  except  it  die  not;  for  the  grain  that 
dies  in  the  ground  never  does  nor  can  vegetate.  It  is  only 
the  livinp1  grains  that  produce  the  next  crop.  But  the  meta- 
phor, in  any  point  of  view,  is  no  simile.  It  is  succession, 
and  not  ressurrection. 

The  progress  of  an  animal  from  one  state  of  being  to 
another,  as  from  a  worm  to  a  butterfly,  applies  to  this  case; 
but  this  of  a  grain  does  not,  and  shows  Paul  to  have  been 
what  he  says  of  others — a  fooL 

Whether  the  fourteen  epistles  ascribed  to  Paul  were  writ- 
ten by  him  or  not  is  a  matter  of  indifference ;  they  are  either 
argumentative  or  dogmatical;  and  as  the  argument  is  defec- 
tive, and  the  dogmatic  part  is  merely  presumptive,  it  signi- 
fies not  who  wrote  them.  And  the  same  may  be  said  for 
the  remaining  parts  of  the  Testament  It  is  not  upon  the 
epistles,  bat  upon  what  is  called  the  gospel,  contained  in 
the  four  books  ascribed  to  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke,  and  John, 
and  upon  the  pretended  prophecies,  that  the  theory  of  the 
church,  calling  itself  the  Christian  Church,  is  founded. 
The  epistles  are  dependent  upon  those,  and  must  follow 
their  fate;  for,  if  the  story  of  Jesus  Christ  be  fabulous,  all 
reasoning  founded  upon  it  as  a  supposed  truth,  must  fall 
with  it 

We  know  from  history  that  one  of  the  principal  leaders  of 
this  church,  Athanasius,  lived  at  the  time  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment was  formed;*  and  we  know,  also,  from  the  absurd 
.  according  to  the  church  chronology,  In  the  year  371. 


THE   AGE  OF   REASON. 

jargon  he  has  left  us  under  the  name  of  a  creed,  the  charac- 
ter of  the  men  who  formed  the  New  Testament;  and  we 
know,  also,  from  the  same  history,  that  the  authenticity  of 
the  books  of  which  it  is  composed  was  denied  at  the  tune. 
It  was  upon  the  vote  of  such  as  Athanasius  that  the  Testa- 
ment  was  decreed  to  be  the  word  of  God;  and  nothing  can 
present  to  us  a  more  strange  idea  than  that  of  decreeing  the 
word  of  God  by  vote.  Those  who  rest  their  faith  upon  such 
authority,  put  man  in  the  place  of  God,  and  have  no  foun- 
dation for  future  happiness;  credulity,  however,  is  not  a 
crime,  but  it  becomes  criminal  by  resisting  conviction.  It 
is  strangling  in  the  womb  of  the  conscience  the  efforts  it 
makes  to  ascertain  truth.  We  should  never  force  belief 
upon  ourselves  in  anything. 

I  here  close  the  subject  on  the  Old  Testament  and  the 
New.  The  evidence  I  have  produced  to  prove  them  for- 
geries is  extracted  from  the  books  themselves,  and  acts  like 
a  two-edged  sword,  either  way.  If  the  evidence  be  denied, 
the  authenticity  of  the  scriptures  is  denied  with  it;  for  it  is 
scripture  evidence;  and  if  the  evidence  be  admitted,  the 
authenticity  of  the  books  is  disproved.  The  contradictory 
impossibilities  contained  in  the  Old  Testament  and  the  New 
put  them  in  the  case  of  a  man  who  swears  for  and  against. 
Either  evidence  convicts  him  of  perjury,  and  equally  de- 
•troys  reputation. 

Should  the  Bible  and  the  Testament  hereafter  fall,  it  is 
not  I  that  have  been  the  occasion.  1  have  done  no  more 
than  extracted  the  evidence  from  that  confused  mass  of 
matter  with  which  it  is  mixed,  and  arranged  that  evidence 
in  a  point  of  light  to  be  clearly  seen  and  easily  compre- 
hended; and,  having  done  this,  I  leave  the  reader  to  judge 
for  himself,  u  I  have  judged  for  myself. 


CONCLUSION. 


In  the  former  part  of  the  Age  of  -Reason,  I  have  spoken 
of  the  three  frauds,  mystery,  miracle,  and  prophecy  •>  and  as 
I  have  seen  nothing  in  any  of  the  answers  to  that  work, 
that  in  the  least  affects  what  I  have  there  said  upon  those 
subjects,  I  shall  not  encumber  this  Second  Part  with  addi- 
tions that  are  not  necessary. 

I  have  spoken  also  in  the  same  work  upon  what  is  called 
revelation,  and  have  shown  the  absurd  misapplication  of 
that  term  to  the  books  of  the  Old  Testament  and  the  New; 
for  certainly  revelation  is  out  of  the  question  in  reciting 
anything  of  which  man  has  been  the  actor  or  the  witness. 
That  which  a  man  has  done  or  seen,  needs  no  revelation  to 
tell  him  he  has  done  it,  or  seen  it;  for  he  knows  it  already; 
nor  to  enable  him  to  tell  it,  or  to  write  it.  It  is  ignorance, 
or  imposition,  to  apply  the  term  revelation  in  such  cases; 
yet  the  Bible  and  Testament  are  classed  under  thi»  fraudu- 
lent description  of  being  all  revelation, 

Revelation,  then,  so  far  as  the  term  has  relation  between 
God  and  man,  can  only  be  applied  to  something  which  God 
reveals  of  his  will  to  man;  but  though  the  power  of  the 
Almighty  to  make  such  a  communication  is  necessarily  ad- 
mitted, because  to  that  power  all  things  are  possible,  yet, 
the  thing  so  revealed  (if  anything  ever  was  revealed,  and 
which,  by  the  bye,  it  is  impossible  to  prove)  is  revelation  to 
the  person  only  to  whom  it  is  made.  His  account  of  it  to 
another  is  not  revelation;  and  whoever  puts  faith  in  that 
account,  puts  it  in  the  man  from  whom  the  account  comes; 
and  that  man  may  have  been  deceived,  or  may  have  dreamed 
it;  or  he  may  be  an  impostor,  and  may  lie.  There  is  no 
possible  criterion  whereby  to  judge  of  the  truth  of  what  he 
tells;  for  even  the  morality  of  it  would  be  no  proof  of  rev- 
elation. In  all  such  cases  the  proper  answer  would  b«, 
*  When  it  is  revealed  to  me,  I  will  believe  it  to  be  a  revel*- 


P4JBT  II.]  THE    AOK    OF    REASON.  145 

tion ;  but  it  is  not,  and  cannot  be  incumbent  upon  me  to  be- 
lieve it  to  be  a  revelation  before;  neither  is  it  proper  that  I 
should  take  the  word  of  man  as  the  word  of  God,  and  put 
man  in  the  place  of  God."  This  is  the  manner  in  which  I 
have  spoken  of  revelation  in  the  former  part  of  the  Age  of 
JReaton;  and  which,  while  it  reverentially  admits  revelation 
as  a  possible  thing,  because,  as  before  said,  to  the  Almighty 
all  things  are  possible,  it  prevents  the  imposition  of  one  man 
upon  another,  and  precludes  the  wicked  use  of  pretended 
revelation. 

But  though,  speaking  for  myself,  £  thus  admit  the  possi- 
bility of  revelation,  I  totally  disbelieve  that  the  Almighty 
ever  did  communicate  anything  to  man,  by  any  mode  of 
speech,  in  any  language,  or  by  any  kind  of  vision,  or 
appearance,  or  by  any  means  which  our  senses  are  capable  of 
receiving,  otherwise  than  by  the  universal  display  of  him- 
self in  the  works  of  creation,  and  by  that  repugnance  we 
feel  in  ourselves  to  bad  actions,  and  disposition  to  do  good 
ones. 

The  most  detestable  wickedness,  the  most  horrid  cruel- 
ties, and  the  greatest  miseries,  that  have  afflicted  the  human 
race,  have  had  their  origin  in  this  thing  called  revelation, 
or  revealed  religion.  It  has  been  the  most  dishonorable 
belief  against  the  character  of  the  Divinity,  the  most  de- 
structive to  morality,  and  the  peace  and  happiness  of  man, 
that  ever  was  propagated  since  man  began  to  exist.  It  is 
better,  far  better,  that  we  admitted,  if  it  were  possible,  a 
thousand  devils  to  roam  at  large,  and  to  preach  publicly  the 
doctrine  of  devils,  if  there  were  any  such,  than  that  we  per- 
mitted one  such  impostor  and  monster  as  Moses,  Joshua, 
Samuel,  and  the  Bible  prophets,  to  come  with  the  pre- 
tended word  of  God  in  his  mouth,  and  have  credit  among  us. 

Whence  arose  all  the  horrid  assassinations  of  whole  na- 
tions of  men,  women,  and  infants,  with  which  the  Bible  is 
filled;  and  the  bloody  persecutions,  and  tortures  unto  death, 
and  religious  wars,  that  since  that  time  have  laid  Europe  in 
blood  and  ashes;  whence  arose  they,  but  from  this  impioua 
thing  called  revealed  religion,  and  this  monstrous  belief, 
that  God  has  spoken  to  man?  The  lies  of  the  Bible  have 
been  the  cause  of  the  one,  and  the  lies  of  the  Testament  of 
the  other. 

Some  Christum*  pretend,  that  Christianity  was  not  ectab- 


146  THE    AGE    OF   BEASOH.  [PART  IX. 

lished  by  the  sword;  but  of  what  period  of  time  do  they 
speak?  It  was  impossible  that  twelve  men  could  begin  with 
the  sword;  they  had  not  the  power,  but  no  sooner  were  the 
professors  of  Christianity  sufficiently  powerful  to  employ 
the  sword  than  they  did  so,  and  the  stake  and  faggot,  too; 
and  Mahomet  could  not  do  it  sooner.  By  the  same  spirit 
that  Peter  cut  off  the  ear  of  the  high  priest's  servant 
(if  the  story  be  true),  he  would  have  cut  off  his  head,  and 
the  head  of  his  master,  had  he  been  able.  Besides  this, 
Christianity  grounds  itself  originally  upon  the  Bible,  and 
the  Bible  was  established  altogether  by  the  sword,  and  that 
in  the  worst  use  of  it;  not  to  terrify,  but  to  extirpate.  The 
Jews  made  no  con  verts ;  they  butchered  all.  The  Bible  is 
the  sire  of  the  Testament,  and  both  are  called  the  word  of 
God.  The  Christians  read  both  books;  the  ministers  preach 
from  both  books;  and  this  thing  called  Christianity  is  made 
up  of  both.  It  is  then  false  to  say  that  Christianity  was 
not  established  by  the  sword. 

The  only  sect  that  has  not  persecuted  are  the  Quakers; 
and  the  only  reason  that  can  be  given  for  it  is,  that  they 
are  rather  Deists  than  Christians.  They  do  not  believe 
much  about  Jesus  Christ,  and  they  call  the  scriptures  a  dead 
letter.  Had  they  called  them  by  a  worse  name  they  had 
been  nearer  the  truth. 

It  is  incumbent  on  every  man  who  reverences  the  char- 
acter of  the  Creator,  and  who  wishes  to  lessen  the  catalogue 
of  artificial  miseries,  and  remove  the  cause  that  has  sown 
persecutions  thick  among  mankind,  to  expel  all  ideas  of  re* 
vealed  religion  as  a  dangerous  heresy,  and  an  impious  fraud. 
What  is  it  that  we  have  learned  from  this  pretended  thing 
called  revealed  religion?  Nothing  that  is  useful  to  man, 
and  everything  that  is  dishonorable  to  his  Maker.  What  is 
it  the  Bible  teaches  us? — rapine,  cruelty,  and  murder.  What 
is  it  the  Testament  teaches  us? — to  believe  that  the  Al- 
mighty committed  debauchery  with  a  woman  engaged  to  be 
married?  and  the  belief  of  this  debauchery  is  called  faith. 

As  to  the  fragments  of  morality  that  are  irregularly  and 
thinly  scattered  in  those  books,  they  make  no  part  of  this 
pretended  thing,  revealed  religion.  They  are  the  natural 
dictates  of  conscience,  and  the  bonds  by  which  society  is 
held  together,  and  without  which  it  cannot  exist ;  and  arc 


PAKT  II.]          THE  AGE  OF  REASON.  147 

nearly  the  same  in  all  religions,  and  in  all  societies.  The 
Testament  teaches  nothing  new  upon  this  subject,  and  where 
it  attempts  to  exceed,  it  becomes  mean  and  ridiculous.  The 
doctrine  of  not  retaliating  injuries,  is  much  better  expressed 
in  proverbs,  which  is  a  collection  as  well  from  the  Gentiles 
as  the  Jews,  than  it  is  in  the  Testament.  It  is  there  said, 
Proverbs,  xxv.,  ver.  21,  "If  thine  enemy  be  hungry,  give  him 
bread  to  eat;  and  if  he  be  thirsty,  give  him  water  to  drink;"* 
but  when  it  is  said,  as  in  the  Testament,  "If  a  man  smite 
thee  on  the  right  cheek  turn  to  him  the  other  also,"  it  is 
assassinating  the  dignity  of  forbearance,  and  sinking  man 
into  a  spaniel. 

Loving  enemies  is  another  dogma  of  feigned  morality,  and 
has  besides  no  meaning.  It  is  incumbent  on  man,  as  a 
moralist,  that  he  does  not  revenge  an  injury;  and  it  is 
equally  good  in  a  political  sense,  for  there  is  no  end  to  retal- 
iation, each  retaliates  on  the  other  and  calls  it  justice;  but 
to  love  in  proportion  to  the  injury,  if  it  could  be  done,  would 
be  to  offer  a  premium  for  crime.  Besides  the  word  enemies 
is  too  vague  and  general  to  be  used  in  a  moral  maxim,  which 
ought  to  be  always  clear  and  denned,  like  a  proverb.  If  a 
man  be  the  enemy  of  another  through  mistake  and  prejudice, 
as  in  the  case  of  religious  opinions,  and  sometimes  in  politics, 
that  man  is  different  to  an  enemy  at  heart  with  a  criminal 
intention:  and  it  is  incumbent  upon  us,  and  it  contributes 
to  our  own  tranquillity,  that  we  put  the  best  construction 
upon  a  thing  that  it  will  bear.  But  even  this  erroneous 
motive  in  him,  makes  no  motive  for  love  on  the  other  part; 
and  to  say  that  we  can  love  voluntarily,  and  without  a  mo- 
tive, is  morally  and  physically  impossible. 

Morality  is  injured  by  prescribing  to  it  duties,  that,  in  the 
first  place,  are  impossible  to  be  performed;  and,  if  they  could 
be,  would  be  productive  of  evil;  or,  as  before  said,  be 


*  According  to  what  is  called  Christ's  sermon  on  the  mount,  in  the  book  of 

jood  deal  of  this  fei-m>d 
it  the  doctrine  of  forbear- 
typart  of  the  doctrine  of  the, lews; 


Matthew  where,  among  some  other  good  thinas,  a  good  < 
morality  is  introduced,  it  is  there  expressly  said,  that  the 
ance,  or  of  not  retaliating  Injuries,  was  not  any  part  ofthet 
but  as  this  doctrine  is  founded  in  proverbs,  it  must,  according  to  that  state- 
ment, have  been  copied  from  the  Gentiles,  from  whom  Christ  had  learned  it. 
Those  men,  whom  Jewish  and  Christian  idolaters  have  abusively  called 
heathens,  had  much  better  and  clearer  ideas  of  justice  and  morality,  than  are 
to  be  found  in  the  Old  Testament,  so  far  as  it  is  Jewish;  or  in  the  iSew.  The 
answer  of  Solon  on  the  question,  "  Which  is  the  most  perfect  popular  govern- 
ment?" has  never  been  exceeded  by  any  man  since  his  time,  as  containing  a 
maxim  of  public  morality.  "That.'' says  lie.  "where  the  least  injury  done  to 
themeanest  individual,  is  ronxi.ilcrfd  as  an  insult  to  the  whole  constitution." 
Solon  lived  about  500  years  before  Christ. 


148  THB    AGE   Of    REASON.  [PAJTT  U. 

premiums  for  crime.  The  maxim  of  doing  as  we  would  be 
done  unto,  does  not  include  this  strange  doctrine  of  loving 
enemies;  for  no  man  expects  to  be  loved  himself  for  hi* 
crime  or  for  his  enmity. 

Those  who  preach  this  doctrine  of  loving  their  enemies, 
are  in  general  the  greatest  persecutors,  and  they  act  consist- 
ently by  so  doing;  for  the  doctrine  is  hypocritical,  and  it  is 
natural  that  hypocrisy  should  act  the  reverse  of  what  it 
preaches.  For  my  own  part,  I  disown  the  doctrine,  and 
consider  it  as  a  feigned  or  fabulous  morality;  yet  the  man 
does  not  exist  that  can  say  I  have  persecuted  him,  or  any 
man  or  any  set  of  men,  either  in  the  American  Revolution, 
or  in  the  French  Revolution;  or  that  I  have,  in  any  case, 
returned  evil  for  evil.  But  it  is  not  incumbent  on  man  to 
reward  a  bad  action  with  a  good  one,  or  to  return  good  for 
evil ;  and  wherever  it  is  done,  it  is  a  voluntary  act,  and  not 
a  duty.  It  is  also  absurd  to  suppose  that  such  doctrine  can 
make  any  part  of  a  revealed  religion.  We  imitate  the  moral 
character  of  the  Creator  by  forbearing  with  each  other,  for 
he  forbears  with  all;  but  this  doctrine  would  imply  that  he 
loved  man,  not  in  proportion  as  he  was  good,  but  as  he  was 
bad. 

If  we  consider  the  nature  of  our  condition  here,  we  must 
Bee  there  is  no  occasion  for  such  a  thing  as  revealed  religion. 
What  is  it  we  want  to  know?  Does  not  the  creation,  the 
universe  we  behold,  preach  to  us  the  existence  of  an 
Almighty  power  that  governs  and  regulates  the  whole? 
And  is  not  the  evidence  that  this  creation  holds  out  to  our 
senses  infinitely  stronger  than  anything  we  can  read  in  a 
book,  that  any  impostor  might  make  and  call  the  word  of 
God  ?  As  for  morality,  the  knowledge  of  it  exists  in  every 
man's  conscience. 

Here  we  are.  The  existence  of  an  Almighty  power  u 
sufficiently  demonstrated  to  us,  though  we  cannot  conceive, 
as  it  is  impossible  we  should,  the  nature  and  manner  of  Its 
existence.  We  eannot  conceive  how  we  came  here  our- 
gelves,  and  yet  we  know  for  a  fact  that  we  are  here.  We 
must  know  also,  that  the  power  that  called  us  into  being, 
can,  if  he  please,  and  when  he  pleases,  call  us  to  account 
for  the  manner  in  which  we  have  lived  here;  and,  therefore, 
without  seeking  any  other  motive  for  the  belief,  it  is  ration- 
al to  believe  that  he  will,  for  we  know  beforehand  that  h« 


PAJBT  n.j  THE    AGE   OF   BKABOV.  149 

can.  The  probability  or  even  possibility  of  the  thing  is  all 
that  we  ought  to  know;  for  if  we  knew  it  as  a  fact,  we  should 
be  the  mere  slaves  of  terror;  or  belief  would  have  no  merit, 
and  our  best  actions  no  virtue. 

Deism  then  teaches  us,  without  the  possibility  of  being 
deceived,  all  that  is  necessary  or  proper  to  be  known.  The 
creation  is  the  Bible  of  the  Deist.  He  there  reads,  in  the 
handwriting  of  the  Creator  himself,  the  certainty  of  his  exist- 
ence, and  the  immutability  of  his  power,  and  all  other  Bibles 
and  Testaments  are  to  him  forgeries.  The  probability  that 
we  may  be  called  to  account  hereafter,  will,  to  a  reflecting 
mind,  have  the  influence  of  belief ;  for  it  is  not  our  belief  or 
disbelief  that  can  make  or  unmake  the  fact.  As  this  is  the 
state  we  are  in,  and  which  is  proper  we  should  be  in,  as  free 
agents,  it  is  the  fool  only,  and  not  the  philosopher,  or  even 
the  prudent  man,  that  would  live  as  if  there  were  no  God. 

But  the  belief  of  a  God  is  so  weakened  by  being  mixed 
with  the  strange  fable  of  the  Christian  creed,  and  with  the 
wild  adventures  related  in  the  Bible,  and  of  the  obscurity 
and  obscene  nonsense  of  the  Testament,  that  the  mind  of 
man  is  bewildered  as  in  a  fog.  Viewing  all  these  things  in 
a  confused  mass,  he  confounds  fact  with  fable;  and  as  he  can- 
not believe  all,  he  feels  a  disposition  to  reject  all.  But  the 
belief  of  a  God  is  a  belief  distinct  from  all  other  things  and 
ought  not  to  be  confounded  with  any.  The  notion  of  a 
Trinity  of  Gods  has  enfeebled  the  belief  of  one  God.  A 
multiplication  of  beliefs  acts  as  a  division  of  belief ;  and  in 
proportion  as  anything  is  divided  it  is  weakened. 

Religion,  by  such  means,  becomes  a  thing  of  form,  instead 
of  fact;  of  notion,  instead  of  principles;  morality  is  banished, 
to  make  room  for  an  imaginary  thing,  called  faith,  and  this 
faith  has  its  origin  in  a  supposed  debauchery;  a  man  is 
preached  instead  of  God;  and  execution  as  an  object  for 
gratitude;  the  preachers  daub  themselves  with  the  blood,  like 
a  troop  of  assassins,  and  pretend  to  admire  the  brilliancy  it 
gives  them;  they  preach  a  humdrum  sermon  on  the  merits 
of  the  execution;  then  praise  Jesus  Christ  for  being  execut- 
ed, and  condemn  the  Jews  for  doing  it. 

A  man,  by  hearing  all  this  nonsense  lumped  and  preached 
together,  confounds  the  God  of  the  creation  with  the  im- 
agined God  of  the  Christians,  and  lives  as  if  there  were 


150  THB    A.GK  OF    BEA8OJT. 

Of  all  the  systems  of  religion  that  ever  were  invented, 
there  is  none  more  derogatory  to  the  Almighty,  more  unedi- 
fying  to  man,  more  repugnant  to  reason,  and  more  contradic- 
tory in  itself,  than  this  thing  called  Christianity.  Too  absurd 
for  belief,  too  impossible  to  convince,  and  too  inconsistent 
for  practice,  it  renders  the  heart  torpid,  or  produces  only 
atheists  and  fanatics.  As  an  engine  of  power,  it  serves  the 
purpose  of  despotism;  and  as  a  means  of  wealth,  the  avarice 
of  priests;  but  so  far  as  respects  the  good  of  man  in  general, 
it  leads  to  nothing  here  or  hereafter. 

The  only  religion  that  has  not  been  invented,  and  that 
has  in  it  every .  evidence  of  divine  originality,  is  pure  and 
aimple  Deism.  It  must  have  been  the  first,  and  will  prob- 
ably be  the  last  that  man  believes.  But  pure  and  simple 
Deism  does  not  answer  the  purpose  of  despotic  govern- 
ments. They  cannot  lay  hold  of  religion  as  an  engine,  but 
by  mixing  it  with  human  inventions,  and  making  their  OWE 
authority  a  part;  neither  does  it  answer  the  avarice  of  priest* 
but  by  incorporating  themselves  and  their  functions  with  it, 
and  becoming,  like  the  government,  a  party  in  the  system. 
It  is  this  that  forms  the  otherwise  mysterious  connection 
of  church  and  state;  the  church  humane,  and  the  state 
tyrannic. 

Were  man  impressed  as  fully  and  as  strongly  as  he  ought 
to  be  with  the  belief  of  a  God,  his  moral  life  would  be  reg- 
ulated by  the  force  of  that  belief ;  he  would  stand  in  awe  of 
God,  and  of  himself,  and  would  not  do  the  thing  that  could 
not  be  concealed  from  either.  To  give  this  belief  the  full 
opportunity  of  force,  it  is  necessary  that  it  act  alone.  Thin 
u  Deism. 

But  when,  according  to  the  Christian  Trinitarian  scheme, 
one  part  of  God  is  represented  by  a  dying  man,  and  another 
part  called  the  Holy  Ghost,  by  a  flying  pigeon,  it  is  impos- 
sible that  belief  can  attach  itself  to  such  wSd  conceits.* 

It  has  been  the  scheme  of  the  Christian  church,  and  of 
all  the  other  invented  systems  of  religion,  to  hold  man  in 
ignorance  of  the  Creator,  as  it  is  of  government  to  hold  man 
in  ignorance  of  his  rights.  The  systems  of  the  one  are  as 

•The  book  called  the  book  of  Matthew,  aayn,  chap.  111.  rer.  16,  that  Uu  Holy 
Ghott  descended  in  <A«  thap*  •/  a  dm.  It  might  as  weD  have  said  a  fooae;  the 
creature*  ure  equally  harmless,  and  the  one  Is  as  ranch  a  nonsensical  lie  as  the 
oiher.  The  second  of  Acts,  TCF.  2,  8,  says,  that  It  descended  In  a  mighty  rtuAiM 
wind.  In  the  shape  of  clown  tongvtt:  perhaps  it  was  cloven  feet.  8«ch  aheni 
aufi  la  only  fit  for  tales  of  witches  and  wUarda. 


PAKT  II. j  THE    AOK   OF    BKABON.  151 

false  as  those  of  the  other,  and  are  calculated  for  mutual 
support.  The  study  of  theology,  as  it  stands  in  Christian 
churches,  is  the  study  of  nothing;  it  is  founded  on  nothing; 
it  rests  on  no  principles;  it  proceeds  by  no  authorities;  it 
has  no  data;  it  can  demonstrate  nothing;  and  it  admits  of 
no  conclusion.  Not  anything  can  be  studied  as  a  science, 
without  our  being  in  possession  of  the  principles  upon  which 
it  is  founded ;  and  as  this  is  not  the  case  with  Christian 
theology,  it  is  therefore  the  study  of  nothing. 

Instead  then  of  studying  theology,  as  is  now  done,  out 
of  the  Bible  and  Testament,  the  meanings  of  which  books 
are  always  controverted,  and  the  authenticity  of  which  ia 
disproved,  it  is  necessary  that  we  refer  to  the  Bible  of  the 
creation.  The  principles  we  discover  there  are  eternal,  and 
of  divine  origin:  they  are  the  foundation  of  all  the  science 
that  exists  in  the  world,  and  must  be  the  foundation  of 
theology. 

We  can  know  God  only  through  his  works.  We  cannot 
have  a  conception  of  any  one  attribute,  but  by  following  some 
principle  that  leads  to  it.  We  have  only  a  confused  idea  of 
his  power,  if  we  have  not  the  means  of  comprehending 
something  of  its  immensity.  We  can  have  no  idea  of  hia 
wisdom,  but  by  knowing  the  order  and  manner  in  which  it  act*. 
The  principles  of  science  lead  to  this  knowledge;  for  the  Crea- 
tor of  man  is  the  Creator  of  science  ;  and  it  is  through  that 
medium  that  man  can  see  God,  as  it  were,  face  to  face. 

Could  a  man  be  placed  in  a  situation,  and  endowed  with 
the  power  of  vision,  to  behold  at  one  view,  and  to  contem- 
plate deliberately,  the  structure  of  the  universe;  to  mark  the 
movements  of  the  several  planets,  the  cause  of  their  varying 
appearances,  the  unerring  order  in  which  they  revolve,  even 
to  the  remotest  comet;  their  connection  and  dependence  on 
each  other,  and  to  know  the  system  of  laws  established  by  the 
Creator,  that  governs  and  regulates  the  whole;  he  would  then 
conceive,  far  beyond  what  any  church  theology  can  teach  him, 
the  power,  the  wisdom,  the  vastness,  the  munificence,  of  the 
Creator;  he  would  then  see,  that  all  the  knowledge  man  has 
of  science,  and  that  all  the  mechanical  arts  by  which  he 
renders  his  situation  comfortable  here,  are  derived  from  that 
source:  his  mind,  exalted  by  the  scene,  and  convinced  by  the 
/act,  would  increase  in  gratitude  as  it  increased  in  knowledge; 
hia  religion  or  hia  worship  would  become  united  with  hi* 


152  THE  AGE  OF  REASON.          [PART  H. 

improvement  as  a  man;  any  employment  he  followed,  that 
had  connection  with  the  principles  of  creation,  as  every  thing 
of  agriculture,  of  science,  and  of  the  mechanical  arts,  has, 
would  teach  him  more  of  God,  and  of  the  gratitude  he  owes 
to  him,  than  any  theological  Christian  sermon  he  now  hears. 
Great  objects  inspire  great  thoughts;  great  munificence 
excites  great  gratitude;  but  the  groveling  tales  and  doctrines 
of  the  Bible  and  the  Testament  are  fit  only  to  excite  con- 
tempt. 

Though  man  cannot  arrive,  at  least  in  this  life,  at  the 
actual  scene  I  have  described,  he  can  demonstrate  it;  because 
he  has  a  knowledge  of  the  principles  upon  which  the  creation 
is  constructed.  We  know  that  the  greatest  works  can  be 
represented  in  model,  and  that  the  universe  can  be  repre- 
sented by  the  same  means.  The  same  principles  by  which 
we  measure  an  inch,  or  an  acre  of  ground,  will  measure  to 
millions  in  extent.  A  circle  of  an  inch  in  diameter  has  the 
same  geometrical  properties  as  a  circle  that  would  circum- 
scribe the  universe.  The  same  properties  of  a  triangle  that 
will  demonstrate  upon  paper  the  course  of  a  ship,  will  do  it 
on  the  ocean;  and  when  applied  to  what  are  called  the  heav- 
enly bodies,  will  ascertain  to  a  minute  the  time  of  an  eclipse, 
though  these  bodies  are  millions  of  miles  distant  from  us. 
This  knowledge  is  of  divine  origin;  and  it  is  from  the  Bible 
of  the  creation  that  man  has  learned  it,  and  not  from  the 
stupid  Bible  of  the  church,  that  teacheth  man  nothing.* 

All  the  knowledge  man  has  of  science  and  of  machinery, 
by  the  aid  of  which  his  existence  is  rendered  comfortable 
upon  earth,  and  without  which  he  would  be  scarcely  distin- 
guishable in  appearance  and  condition  from  a  common  ani- 
mal, comes  from  the  great  machine  and  structure  of  the 
universe.  The  constant  and  unwearied  observations  of  our 

•  The  Bible-makers  hare  undertaken  to  Eire  us,  In  the  first  chapter  of  Gene- 
its,  an  account  of  the  creation;  and  In  doing  this  they  have  demonstrated 
nothing  but  their  ignorance.  They  make  there  to  hare  been  three  days  and  three 
alghts,  erenings  and  mornings,  before  there  was  a  enn;  when  it  is  the  presence 
•r  abttence  of  a  sun  that  is  the  canae  of  day  and  night— and  what  Is  called  his 
riilng  and  setting,  that  of  morning  and  evening.  Besides,  it  is  a  puerile  and 
pitiful  idea,  to  suppose  the  Almighty  to  say,  "Let  there  be  light,"  It  is  the  im- 
perative manner  ol  speaking  that  a  conjuror  uses,  when  he  says  to  his  cups  and 
balls,  Presto,  be  gone— and  most  probably  has  been  taken  from  it,  as  Moses  and 
his  rod  are  a  conjuror  and  his  wand.  Longinns  calls  this  expression  the 
•ubllme;  and  by  the  same  rule  the  conjuror  is  sublime  too;  for  the  manner  of 
•peaking  is  expressively  and  grammatically  the  same.  When  authors  and  critic* 
talk  of  the  sublime,  they  see  not  how  nearly  it  borders  on  the  ridiculous.  The 
•ubllme  of  the  critics,  like  some  part*  of  Edmund  Bnrke's  sublime  and  beautiful, 
U  like  a  wind-mill  Just  visible  In  a  fog.  which  Imagination  might  distort  Into  • 
tying  mountain,  or  an  archangel,  or  a  flock  of  wild  geeee. 


f  AJBT  n.]  THTE    A&E    OF    SEASON.  163 

ancestors  upon  the  movements  and  revolutions  of  the  heavenl 
bodies,  in  what  are  supposed  to  have  been  the  early  ages  v 
the  world,  have  brought  this  knowledge  upon  earth,  of 
is  not  Moses  and  the  prophets,  nor  Jesus  Chriat,  nor  his 
apostles  that  have  done  it.  The  Almighty  is  the  great  me- 
chanic of  the  creation;  the  first  philosopher  and  original 
teacher  of  all  science. — Let  us,  then,  learn  to  reverence  our 
master,  and  let  us  not  forget  the  labors  of  our  ancestors. 

Had  we,  at  this  day,  no  knowledge  of  machinery,  and  were 
it  possible  that  man  could  have  a  view,  as  I  have  before  de- 
scribed, of  the  structure  and  machinery  of  the  universe,  he 
would  soon  conceive  the  idea  of  constructing  some  at  least 
of  the  mechanical  works  we  now  have:  and  the  idea  so  con- 
ceived would  progressively  advance  in  practice.  Or  could 
a  model  of  the  universe,  such  as  is  called  an  orrery,  be  pre- 
sented before  him  and  put  in  motion,  his  mind  would  arrive 
it  the  same  idea.  Such  an  object  and  such  a  subject  would, 
whilst  it  improved  him  in  knowledge  useful  to  himself  aa  a 
man  and  a  member  of  society,  as  well  as  entertaining,  afford 
far  better  matter  for  impressing  him  with  a  knowledge  of, 
and  a  belief  in  the  Creator,  and  of  the  reverence  and  grati- 
tude that  man  owes  to  him,  than  the  stupid  texts  of  the  Bible 
and  of  the  Testament,  from  which,  be  the  talents  of  the 
preacher  what  they  may,  only  stupid  sermons  can  be  preach- 
ed. If  man  must  preach,  let  him  preach  something  that  is 
edifying,  and  from  texts  that  are  known  to  be  true. 

Tne  Bible  of  the  creation  is  inexhaustible  in  texts.  Every 
part  of  science,  whether  connected  with  the  geometry  of  the 
universe,  with  the  systems  of  animal  and  vegetable  life,  or 
with  the  properties  of  inanimate  matter,  is  a  text  as  well  for 
devotion  as  for  philosophy — for  gratitude  as  for  human  im- 
provement. It  will  perhaps  be  said,  that  if  such  a  revolution 
in  the  system  of  religion  takes  place,  every  preacher  ought 
to  be  a  philosopher. — Most  certainly;  and  every  house  of 
devotion  a  school  of  science. 

It  has  been  by  wandering  from  the  immutable  law*  of 
science,  and  the  right  use  of  reason,  and  setting  up  an  in- 
vented thing  called  revealed  religion,  that  so  many  wild  and 
blasphemous  conceits  have  been  formed  of  the  Almighty. 
The  Jews  have  made  him  the  assassin  of  the  human  specie*, 
to  make  room  for  the  religion  of  the  Jews.  The  Christiana 
have  made  him  the  murderer  of  himself,  and  the  founder  at 


164  THE  AGE  07  BKABOH.         [PART  IL 

a  new  religion,  to  supersede  and  expel  the  Jewish  religion. 
And  to  find  pretense  and  admission  for  these  things,  they 
must  hare  supposed  his  power  and  his  wisdom  imperfect,  or 
his  will  changeable;  and  the  changeableness  of  the  will  is 
the  imperfection  of  the  judgment  The  philosopher  knows 
that  the  laws  of  the  Creator  have  never  changed  with 
respect  either  to  the  principles  of  science,  or  the  properties  of 
matter.  Why,  then,  is  it  supposed  they  have  changed  with 
respect  to  man? 

I  here  close  the  subject  I  have  shown  in  all  the  forego- 
ing parts  of  this  work  that  the  Bible  and  Testament  are  im- 
positions and  forgeries;  and  I  leave  the  evidence  I  have  pro- 
duced in  proof  of  it  to  be  refuted,  if  any  one  can  do  it;  and  I 
leave  the  ideas  that  are  suggested  in  the  conclusion  of  the 
work  to  rest  on  the  mind  of  the  reader;  certain  as  I  am,  that 
when  opinions  are  free,  either  in  matters  of  government  or 
religion,  truth  will  finally  and  powerfully  prevail 


EXAMINATION 

or  THE 

PASSAGES  IN  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT 

QUOTED  FROM  THE  OLD, 

AND  CALLED 

PROPHECIES  CONCERNING  JESUS  CHRIST, 

TOGBTHEB  WITH 

A   REPLY   TO   THE   BISHOP   OP   LLANDAFF. 
A   LETTER   TO    MR.    ERSKINE, 

AND 

/ 

MISCELLANEOUS  PIECES. 


11 


PKEFACE. 


TO  THE  MINISTERS  AND  PREACHERS  OP  ALL  DENOMINA, 
TIONS  OF  RELIGION. 

IT  is  the  duty  of  every  man,  as  far  as  his  ability  extends,  to 
detect  and  expose  delusion  and  error.  But  nature  has  not  given 
to  every  one  a  talent  for  the  purpose ;  and  among  those  to 
whom  such  a  talent  is  given,  there  is  often  a  want  of  disposition 
or  of  courage  to  do  it. 

The  world,  or  more  properly  speaking,  that  small  part  of  it 
sailed  Christendom,  or  the  Christian  World,  has  been  amused 
for  more  than  a  thousand  years  with  accounts  of  Prophecies  in 
the  Old  Testament,  about  the  coming  of  the  person  called  Jesus 
Christ,  and  thousands  of  sermons  have  been  preached,  and  vol- 
umes written,  to  make  man  believe  it. 

In  the  following  treatise  I  have  examined  all  the  passages  in 
the  New  Testament,  quoted  from  the  Old,  and  called  prophecies 
concerning  Jesus  Christ,  and  I  find  no  such  thing  as  a  prophecy 
of  any  such  person,  and  I  deny  there  are  any.  The  passages  all 
relate  to  circumstances  the  Jewish  nation  was  in  at  the  time  they 
were  written  or  spoken,  and  not  to  anything  that  was  or  was 
not  to  happen  in  the  world  several  hundred  years  afterwards ; 
and  I  have  shown  what  the  circumstances  were,  to  which  the 
passages  apply  or  refer.  I  have  given  chapter  and  verse  for 
everything  I  have  said,  and  have  not  gone  out  of  the  books  of 
the  Old  and  New  Testament  for  evidence  that  the  passages  are 
not  prophecies  of  the  person  called  Jesus  Christ. 

The  prejudice  of  unfounded  belief,  often  degenerates  into  the 
prejudice  of  custom,  and  becomes,  at  last,  rank  hypocrisy. 
When  men,  from  custom  or  fashion,  or  any  worldly  motive,  pro- 
fess or  pretend  to  believe  what  they  do  not  believe,  nor  can  give 


104  PREFACE. 

any  reason  for  believing,  they  unship  the  helm  of  their  morality, 
and  being  no  longer  honest  to  their  own  minds,  they  feel  no 
moral  difficulty  in  being  unjust  to  others.  It  is  from  the  in- 
fluence of  this  vice,  hypocrisy,  that  we  see  so  many  Church  and 
Meeting-going  professors  and  pretenders  to  religion,  so  full  of 
trick  and  deceit  in  their  dealings,  and  so  loose  in  the  perform- 
ance of  their  engagements,  that  they  are  not  to  be  trusted  fur- 
ther than  the  laws  of  the  country  will  bind  them.  Morality 
has  no  hold  on  their  minds,  no  restraint  on  their  actions. 

One  set  of  preachers  make  salvation  to  consist  in  believing. 
They  tell  their  corgregations,  that  if  they  believe  in  Christ, 
their  sins  shall  be  forgiven.  This,  in  the  first  place,  is  an  en- 
couragement to  sin,  in  a  similar  manner  as  when  a  prodigal 
young  fellow  is  told  his  father  will  paj  all  his  debts,  he  runs 
into  debt  the  faster,  and  becomes  more  extravagant :  Daddy, 
says  he,  pays  all,  and  on  he  goes.  Just  so  in  the  other  case, 
Christ  pays  all,  and  on  goes  the  sinner. 

In  the  next  place,  the  doctrine  these  men  preach  is  not  true. 
The  New  Testament  rests  itself  for  credulity  and  testimony  on- 
what  are  called  prophecies  in  the  Old  Testament,  of  the  person 
called  Jesus  Christ ;  and  if  there  are  no  such  things  as  prophe- 
cies of  any  such  person  in  the  Old  Testament,  the  New  Testa- 
ment is  a  forgery  of  the  councils  of  Nice  and  Laodicea,  and 
the  faith  founded  thereon,  delusion  and  falsehood.* 

Another  set  of  preachers  tell  their  congregations  that  God 
predestinated  and  selected  from  all  eternity,  a  certain  number 
to  be  saved,  and  a  certain  number  to  be  damned  eternally.  If 
this  were  true,  the  day  of  Judgment  is  PAST  :  their  preaching  is 
in  vain,  and  they  had  better  work  at  some  useful  calling  for 
.their  livelihood. 


•  The  councils  of  Nice  and  Laodicea  were  held  about  350  yeara  after  th» 
time  Christ  ia  said  to  have  lived ;  and  the  books  that  now  compose  tne 
New  Testament,  were  then  voted  for  by  YEAS  and  NATS,  as  we  now  vote  a 
law.  A  great  many  that  were  offered  had  a  majority  of  nays,  and  were  re- 
jected. This  u  tha  war  *he  New  Testament  came  into  being. 


PREFACE.  165 

This  doctrine,  also,  like  the  former,  hath  a  direct  tendency  to 
demoralize  mankind.  Can  a  bad  man  be  reformed  by  telling 
him,  that  if  he  is  one  of  those  who  was  decreed  to  be  damned 
before  he  was  born,  his  reformation  will  do  him  no  good  ;  and 
if  he  was  decreed  to  be  saved,  he  will  be  saved  whether  he 
believes  it  or  not ;  for  this  is  the  result  of  the  doctrine.  Such 
preaching,  and  such  preachers,  do  injury  to  the  moral  world. 
They  had  better  be  at  the  plow. 

As  in  my  political  works  my  motive  and  object  have  been  to 
give  man  an  elevated  sense  of  his  own  character,  and  free  him 
from  the  slavish  and  superstitious  absurdity  of  monarchy  and 
hereditary  government,  so  in  my  publications  on  religious  sub- 
jects my  endeavors  have  been  directed  to  bring  man  to  a  right 
use  of  the  reason  that  God  has  given  him ;  to  impress  on  him 
the  great  principles  of  divine  morality,  justice,  mercy,  and  a 
benevolent  disposition  to  all  men,  and  to  all  creatures,  and  to 
inspire  in  him  a  spirit  of  trust,  confidence  and  consolation  in 
his  Creator,  unshackled  by  the  fables  of  books  pretending  to 
be  the  word  of  God. 

THOMAS  PAINB 


EXAMINATION 

OP  THE 

PASSAGES  IN  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT, 

QUOTED  FROM  THE  OLD,   AND  GALLED  PROPHECIES  OF  THE  CODING  OF 

JESUS  CHRIST. 


[THIS  work  was  first  published  by  Mr.  Paine,  at  New  York, 
in  1807,  and  was  the  last  of  his  writings,  edited  by  himself. 
It  is  evidently  extracted  from  his  answer  to  the  Bishop  of 
Llandaff,  or  from  his  third  part  of  the  "Age  of  Reason,"  both  of 
which,  it  appears  by  his  will,  he  left  in  manuscript.  The  term, 
"  The  Bishop"  occurs  in  this  examination  six  times  without 
designating  what  bishop  is  meant.  Of  all  the  replies  to  his 
second  part  of  the  "  Age  of  Reason,"  that  of  Bishop  Watsou  was 
the  only  one  to  which  he  paid  particular  attention;  and  he  is, 
no  doubt,  the  person  here  alluded  to.  Bishop  Watson's  apology 
for  the  Bible  had  been  published  some  years  before  Mr.  P.  left 
France,  and  the  latter  composed  his  answer  to  it,  and  also  his 
third  part  of  the  "  Age  of  Reason,"  while  in  that  country. 

When  Mr.  Paine  arrived  in  America,  and  found  that  liberal 
opinions  on  religion  were  in  disrepute,  through  the  influence  of 
hypocrisy  and  superstition,  he  declined  publishing  the  entire  of 
the  works  which  he  had  prepared;  observing  that  "An  author 
might  lose  the  credit  he  had  acquired  by  writing  too  much." 
He  however  gave  to  the  public  the  examination  before  us,  in  a 
pamphlet  form.  But  the  apathy  which  appeared  to  prevail  at 
that  time  in  regard  to  religious  inquiry,  fully  determined  him 
to  discontinue  the  publication  of  his  theological  writings.  In 
this  case,  taking  only  a  portion  of  one  of  the  works  before 
mentioned,  he  chose  a  title  adapted  to  the  particular  part 
selected.] 

The  Passages  called  Prophecies  of,  or  concerning,  Jesus  Christ, 
in  the  Old  Testament,  may  be  classed  under  the  two  following 
heads:— 

First,  those  referred  to  in  the  four  books  of  the  New  Testa- 


168  EXAMINATION  OP 

ment,  called  the  four  Evangelists,  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke,  and 
John. 

Secondly,  those  which  translators  and  commentators  have,  of 
their  own  imagination,  erected  into  prophecies,  and  dubbed 
with  that  title  at  the  head  of  the  several  chapters  of  the  Old 
Testament.  Of  these  it  is  scarcely  worth  while  to  waste  time, 
ink  and  paper  upon;  I  shall,  therefore,  confine  myself  chiefly 
to  those  referred  to  in  the  aforesaid  four  books  of  the  New 
Testament.  If  I  show  that  these  are  not  prophecies  of  the 
person  called  Jesus  Christ,  nor  have  reference  to  any  such 
person,  it  will  be  perfectly  needless  to  combat  those  which 
translators,  or  the  Church,  have  invented,  and  for  which  they 
had  no  other  authority  than  their  own  imagination 

I  begin  with  the  book  called  the  Gospel  according  to  St. 
Matthew 

In  the  first  chap  ver  18,  it  is  said,  "Now  the  birth  of  Jesus 
Christ  was  in  this  wise:  when  his  Mother  Mary  was  espoused 
to  Joseph,  before  tJiey  came  togetlier  SHE  WAS  FOUND  WITH  CHILD 
BY  THE  HOLY  GHOST." — This  is  going  a  little  too  fast,  because 
to  make  this  verse  agree  with  the  next  it  should  have  said  no 
more  than  that  she  was  found  with  child;  for  the  next  verse 
says,  "  Then  Joseph  her  husband  being  a  just  man,  and  not 
willing  to  make  her  a  public  example,  was  minded  to  put  her 
away  privily." — Consequently  Joseph  had  found  out  no  more 
than  that  she  was  with  child,  and  he  knew  it  was  not  by  him- 
•elf. 

V.  20.  "And  while  he  thought  of  these  things  (that  is,  whether 
he  should  put  her  away  privily,  or  maka  a  public  example  of 
her)  behold  the  Angel  of  the  Lord  appeared  to  him  IN  A  DREAM 
(that  is,  Joseph  dreamed  that  an  angel  appeared  unto  him), 
saying,  Joseph,  tliou  son  of  David,  fear  not  to  take  unto  thee 
Mary  thy  wife,  for  tliat  which  is  conceived  in  her  is  of  the  Holy 
Gtiost.  And  site  sliall  briny  forth  a  son  and  call  his  name 
Jesus  ;  for  he  shall  save  his  people  from  t/ieir  sins." 

Now,  without  entering  into  any  discussion  upon  the  merits 
or  demerits  of  the  account  here  given,  it  is  proper  to  observe, 
that  it  has  no  higher  authority  than  that  of  a  dream ;  for  it  is 
impossible  for  a  man  to  behold  anything  in  a  dream,  but  that 
which  he  dreams  of.  I  ask  not,  therefore  whether  Joseph  (if 
there  was  such  a  man)  had  such  a  dream  or  not;  because  ad- 
mitting he  had,  it  proves  nothing.  So  wonderful  and  rational 
is  the  faculty  of  the  mind  in  dreams,  that  it  acts  the  part  of 


THE  PROPHECIES.  169 

all  the  characters  its  imagination  creates,  and  what  it  thinks  it 
hears  from  any  of  them,  is  no  other  than  what  the  roving 
rapidity  of  its  own  imagination  invents.  It  is,  therefore, 
nothing  to  me  what  Joseph  dreamed  of  ;  whether  of  the  fidelity 
or  infidelity  of  his  wife. —  f  pay  no  regard  to  my  own  dreams, 
and  1  should  be  weak  indeed  to  put  faith  iu  the  dreams  of 
another. 

The  verses  that  follow  those  I  have  quoted,  are  the  words  of 
the  writer  of  the  book  of  Matthew  "A'oio  (says  lie),  fill  this 
{that  is,  all  this  dreaming  and  this  pregnancy)  teas  done  that  it 
might  be  fulfilled  which  was  spoken  of  the  Lord  by  the  Proplwt, 
saying, 

"  Behold  a  virgin  shall  be  with  child,  and  shall  bring  forth  a 
son,  and  they  shall  call  his  name  Emanuel,  which  being  inter- 
preted, is,  God  with  ws." 

This  passage  is  in  Isaiah,  chap,  vii  ver  14,  and  the  writer 
of  the  book  of  Matthew  endeavors  to  make  his  readers  believe 
that  this  passage  is  a  prophecy  of  the  person  called  Jesus 
Christ.  It  is  no  such  thing — and  I  go  to  show  it  is  not.  But 
it  is  first  necessary  that  I  explain  the  occasion  of  these  words 
being  spoken  by  Isaiah ;  the  reader  will  then  easily  perceive, 
that  so  far  from  their  being  a  prophecy  of  Jesus  Christ,  they 
have  not  the  least  reference  to  such  a  person,  or  anything  that 
could  happen  in  the  time  that  Christ  is  said  to  have  lived — 
which  was  about  seven  hundred  years  after  the  time  of  Isaiah 
The  case  is  this : 

On  the  death  of  Solomon  the  Jewish  nation  split  into  two 
monarchies:  one  called  the  kingdom  of  Judah,  the  capital  of 
which  was  Jerusalem;  the  other  ih«  kingdom  of  Israel,  the 
capital  of  which  was  Samaria  The  kingdom  of  Judah  followed 
the  line  of  David,  and  the  kingdom  of  Israel  that  of  Saul;  and 
these  two  rival  monarchies  frequently  carried  on  fierce  wars 
against  each  other. 

At  the  time  Ahaz  was  king  of  Judah,  which  was  in  the  time 
of  Isaiah,  Pekah  was  king  of  Israel ;  and  Pekah  joined  himself 
to  Rezin,  king  of  Syria,  to  make  war  against  Ahaz,  king  of 
Judah ;  and  these  two  kings  marched  a  confederated  and  power- 
ful army  against  Jerusalem  Ahaz  and  his  people  became 
alarmed  at  the  danger,  and  "their  hearts  were  moved  as  the  trees 
of  the  wood  are  moved  with  the  wind."  Isaiah,  chap,  vii  ver.  3. 

In  this  perilous  situation  of  things.  Isaiah  addressed  himself 
to  Ahaz,  and  assures  him,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  (the  cant 


170  EXAMINATION   OP 

phrase  of  all  the  prophets),  that  these  two  kings  should  not 
succeed  against  him .  and,  to  assure  him  that  this  should  be 
the  case  (the  case  was  however  directly  contrary*),  tells  Ahaz 
to  ask  a  sign  of  the  Lord.  This  Ahaz  declined  doing,  giving  as 
a  reason  that  he  would  not  tempt  the  Lord  ;  upon  which  Isaiah, 
who  pretends  to  be  sent  from  God,  says,  ver  14,  "Therefore 
the  Lord  himself  shall  give  you  a  sign,  behold  a  virgin  shall 
conceive  and  bear  a  son — Butter  and  honey  shall  he  eat,  that 
he  may  know  to  refuse  the  evil  and  choose  the  good — For  be- 
fore the  child  shall  know  to  refuse  the  evil  and  choose  the 
good,  the  land  which  thou  abhorrest  shall  be  forsaken  of  both 
her  kings" — meaning  the  king  of  Israel  and  the  king  of  Syriar 
who  were  marching  against  him. 

Here  then  is  the  sign,  which  was  to  be  the  birth  of  a  child, 
and  that  child  a  son,  and  here  also  is  the  time  limited  for  the 
accomplishment  of  the  sign,  namely,  before  the  child  should 
know  to  refuse  the  evil  and  choose  the  good. 

The  thing,  therefore,  to  be  a  sign  of  success  to  Ahaz,  must 
be  something  that  would  take  place  before  the  event  of  the 
battle  then  pending  between  him  and  the  two  kings  could  be 
known.  A  thing  to  be  a  sign  must  precede  the  thing  signi- 
fied. The  sign  of  rain  must  be  before  the  rain. 

It  would  have  been  mockery  and  insulting  nonsense  for 
Isaiah  to  have  assured  Ahaz  as  a  sign,  that  these  two  kings 
should  not  prevail  against  him:, that  a  child  should  be  born 
seven  hundred  years  after  he  was  dead;  and  that  before  the 
child  so  born  should  know  to  refuse  the  evil  and  choose  the 
good,  he,  Ahaz,  should  be  delivered  from  the  danger  he  was- 
then  immediately  threatened  with. 

But  the  case  is,  that  the  child  of  which  Isaiah  speaks  was 
his  own  child,  with  which  his  wife  or  his  mistress  was  then  preg- 
nant ;  for  he  says  in  the  next  chapter,  v.  2,  "  And  I  took  unto 
me  faithful  witnesses  to  record,  Uriah  the  priest,  and  Zechariah 
the  son  of  Jeberechiah ;  and  I  went  unto  the  prophetess,  and 

*  Chron.  chap,  xxviii.  ver.  1st.  Ahaz  was  twenty  years  old  when  he  began 
to  reign,  and  he  reigned  sixteen  years  in  Jerusalem,  but  he  did  not  that  which 
teas  right  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord.— ver.  5.  Wherefore  the  Lord  his  God  deliv- 
ered him  into  the  hands  of  the  king  of  Syria,  and  they  smote  him,  and  carried" 
away  a  great  multitude  of  them  captive  and  brought  them  to  Damascus ;  and  he 
was  aho  delivered  into  the  hand  of  the  king  of  Israel,  who  smote  him  with  a 
great  slaughter. 

Ver.  6.  And  Pekah  (king  of  Israel)  slew  in  Judah  an  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  in  one  day. — ver.  8.  And  the  children  of  Israel  carried  away  captivt 
of  their  brethren  two  hundred  thousand  women,  sons,  and  daughters. 


THE  PROPHECIES.  171 

ghe  conceived  and  bare  a  son;"  and  he  says,  at  ver.  18  of  the 
same  chapter,  "  Behold  I  and  the  children  whom  the  Lord  hath 
given  me  are  for  signs  and  for  wonders  in  Israel" 

It  may  not  be  improper  here  to  observe,  that  the  word  trans- 
lated a  virgin  in  Isaiah,  does  not  signify  a  virgin  in  Hebrew, 
but  merely  a  young  woman.  The  tense  also  is  falsified  in  the 
translation.  Levi  gives  the  Hebrew  text  of  the  14th  ver.  of  the 
6th  chap,  of  Isaiah,  and  the  translation  in  English  with  it — 
"  Behold  a  young  woman  is  with  child  and  beareth  a  son."  The 
expression,  says  he,  is  in  the  present  tense.  This  translation 
agrees  with  the  other  circumstances,  related  of  the  birth  of  this 
child,  which  was  to  be  a  sign  to  Ahaz.  But  as  the  true  trans- 
lation could  not  have  been  imposed  upon  the  world  as  a 
prophecy  of  a  child  to  be  born  seven  hundred  years  afterwards, 
the  Christian  translators  have  falsified  the  original:  and  instead 
of  making  Isaiah  to  say,  behold  a  young  woman  is  with  child 
and  beareth  a  son — they  make  him  to  say,  behold  a  virgin  shall 
conceive  and  bear  a  son.  It  is,  however,  only  necessary  for  a 
person  to  read  the  7th  and  8th  chapters  of  Isaiah,  and  he  will  be 
convinced  that  the  passage  in  question  is  no  prophecy  of  the 
person  called  Jesus  Christ.  I  pass  on  to  the  second  passage 

Suoted  from  the  Old  Testament  by  the  New,  as  a  prophecy  of 
esus  Christ. 

Matthew,  chap.  ii.  ver.  1.  "Now  when  Jesus  was  born  in 
Bethlehem  of  Judah,  in  the  days  of  Herod  the  king,  behold 
there  came  wise  men  from  the  east  to  Jerusalem — saying,  where 
is  he  that  is  born  king  of  the  Jews  ?  for  we  have  seen  his  star 
in  the  east,  and  are  come  to  worship  him.  When  Herod,  the 
king,  heard  these  things,  he  was  troubled,  and  all  Jerusalem 
with  him — and  when  he  had  gathered  all  the  chief  priests  and 
scribes  of  the  people  together,  he  demanded  of  them  where 
Christ  should  be  born — and  they  said  unto  him  in  Bethlehem, 
in  the  land  of  Judea :  for  thus  it  is  written  by  the  prophet — 
and  thou  Bethlehem,  in  the  land  of  Judea,  art  not  the  least  among 
the  Princes  of  Judea,  for  out  of  thee  shall  come  a  Governor  that 
shall  rule  my  people  Israel."  This  passage  is  in  Micah,  chap.  5. 
ver.  2. 

I  pass  over  the  absurdity  of  seeing  and  following  a  star  in  the 
day-time,  as  a  man  would  a  Will  with  the  wisp,  or  a  candle  and 
lantern  at  night ;  and  also  that  of  seeing  it  in  the  east,  when 
they  themselves  came  from  the  east ;  for  could  such  a  thing  be 
seen  at  all  to  serve  them  for  a  jruide,  it  must  be  in  the  west  to 


172  EXAMINATION  OF 

them.  I  confine  myself  solely  to  the  passage  called  a  prophecy 
of  Jesus  Christ. 

The  book  of  Micah,  in  the  passage  above  quoted,  chap.  v.  ver. 
2,  is  speaking  of  some  person  without  mentioning  his  name  from 
whom  some  great  achievements  were  expected ;  but  the  descrip- 
tion he  gives  of  this  person  at  the  5th  verse,  proves  evidently 
that  it  is  not  Jesus  Christ,  for  he  says  at  the  5th  ver.  "  and  this 
man  shall  be  the  peace  when  the  Assyrian  shall  come  into  our 
land,  and  when  he  shall  tread  in  our  palaces,  then  shall  we  raise 
up  war  against  him  (that  is,  against  the  Assyrian)  seven  shep- 
herds and  eight  principal  men — v.  6.  And  they  shall  waste  the 
land  of  Assyria  with  the  sword,  and  the  land  of  Nimrod  on  the 
entrance  thereof :  thus  shall  He  (the  person  spoken  of  at  the 
head  of  the  second  verse)  deliver  us  from  the  Assyrian  when 
he  cometh  into  our  land,  and  when  he  treadeth  within  our 
borders." 

This  is  so  evidently  descriptive  of  a  military  chief,  that  it 
cannot  be  applied  to  Christ  without  outraging  the  character 
they  pretend  to  give  us  of  him.  Besides  which  the  circum- 
stances of  the  times  here  spoken  of,  and  those  of  the  times  in 
which  Christ  is  said  to  have  lived,  are  in  contradiction  to  each 
other.  It  was  the  Romans,  and  not  the  Assyrians,  that  had 
conquered  and  were  in  t/ie  land  of  Judea,  and  trod  in  their  palaces 
when  Christ  was  born,  and  when  he  died,  and  so  far  from  his 
driving  them  out,  it  was  they  who  signed  the  warrant  for  his 
execution,  and  he  suffered  under  it. 

Having  thus  shown  that  this  is  no  prophecy  of  Jesus  Christ, 
I  pass  on  to  the  third  passage  quoted  from  the  Old  Testament 
by  the  New,  as  a  prophecy  of  him. 

This,  like  the  first  I  have  spoken  of,  is  introduced  by  a  dream. 
Joseph  dreameth  another  dream,  and  dreameth  that  he  seeth 
another  angeL  The  account  begins  at  the  13th  v.  of  2nd  chap 
of  Matthew. 

"  The  angel  of  the  Lord  appeared  to  Joseph  in  a  dream,  say- 
ing, Arise  and  take  the  young  child  and  his  mother  and  flee  into 
Egypt,  and  be  thou  thore  until  I  bring  thee  word  :  For  Herod 
will  seek  the  life  of  the  young  child  to  destroy  him.  When  he 
arose  he  took  the  young  child  and  his  mother  by  night  and 
departed  into  Egypt — and  was  there  until  the  death  of  Herod, 
that  it  might  be  fulfilled  which  was  spoken  of  the  Lord  by  the 
pi-ophet,  saying,  Out  of  Egypt  I  have  called  my  son." 

This  passage  is  in  the  book  of  Hosea,  chap.  xi.  ver.  1.     The 


THE  PROPHECIES.  173 

words  are,  "When  Israel  was  a  child  then  I  loved  him  and 
called  my  son  out  of  Egypt — As  they  called  them,  so  they  went 
from  them,  they  sacrificed  unto  Balaam  and  burnt  incense  to 
graven  images." 

This  passage,  falsely  called  a  prophecy  of  Christ,  refers  to  the 
children  of  Israel  coming  out  of  Egypt  in  the  time  of  Pharaoh, 
and  to  the  idolatry  they  committed  afterwards.  To  make  it 
apply  to  Jesus  Christ,  he  must  then  be  the  person  who  sacrificed 
unto  Baalam  and  burnt  incense  to  graven  images,  for  the  person 
called  out  of  Egypt  by  the  collective  name,  Israel,  and  the  per- 
sons committing  this  indolatry,  are  the  same  persons,  or  the 
descendants  from  them.  This,  then,  can  be  no  prophecy  of 
Jesus  Christ,  unless  they  are  willing  to  make  an  idolater  of  him. 
I  pass  on  to  the  fourth  passage,  called,  a  prophecy  by  the  writer 
of  the  book  of  Matthew. 

This  is  introduced  by  a  story  told  by  nobody  but  himself,  and 
scarcely  believed  by  anybody,  of  the  slaughter  of  all  the  chil- 
dren under  two  years  old,  by  the  command  of  Herod.  A  thing 
which  it  is  not  probable  should  be  done  by  Herod,  as  he  only 
held  an  office  under  the  Roman  government,  to  which  appeals 
could  always  be  had,  as  we  see  in  the  case  of  Paul. 

Matthew,  however,  having  made  or  told  his  story,  says,  chap, 
ii.  v.  17.— "Then  was  fulfilled  that  which  was  spoken  by  Jere- 
miah, the  prophet,  saying, — In  Ramah  was  there  a  voice  heard, 
lamentation,  weeping  and  great  mourning  ;  Rachel  weeping  for 
her  children,  and  would  not  be  comforted  because  they  were  not" 

This  passage  is  in  Jeremiah  chap.  xxxi.  ver.  15,  and  this 
verse  when  separated  from  the  verses  before  and  after  it,  and 
which  explains  its  application,  might,  with  equal  propriety,  be 
applied  to  every  case  of  wars,  sieges  and  other  violences,  such  as 
the  Christians  themselves  have  often  done  to  the  Jews,  where 
mothers  have  lamented  the  loss  of  their  children.  There  is 
nothing  in  the  verse,  taken  singly,  that  designates  or  points  out 
any  particular  application  of  it,  otherwise  than  it  points  to 
some  circumstances  which,  at  the  time  of  writing  it,  had  already 
happened,  and  not  to  a  thing  yet  to  happen,  for  the  verse  is  in 
the  preter  or  past  tense.  I  go  to  explain  the  case  and  show  the 
application  of  the  verse. 

Jeremiah  lived  in  the  time  that  Nebuchadnezzar  besieged, 
took,  plundered  and  destroyed  Jerusalem,  and  led  the  Jews  cap- 
tive to  Babylon.  He  carried  his  violence  against  the  Jews  to 
every  extreme.  He  slew  the  sons  of  King  Zedekiah,  before  liis 


174  EXAMINATION   OF 

face,  he  then  put  out  the  eyes  of  Zedekiah,  and  kept  him  ia 
prison  till  the  day  of  his  death. 

It  is  of  this  time  of  sorrow  and  suffering  to  the  Jews  that 
Jeremiah  is  speaking.  Their  temple  was  destroyed,  their  land 
desolated,  their  nation  and  government  entirely  broken  up,  and 
themselves,  men,  women  and  children,  carried  into  captivity. 
They  had  too  many  sorrows  of  their  own,  immediately  before 
their  eyes,  to  permit  them,  or  any  of  their  chiefs,  to  be  employ- 
ing themselves  on  things  that  might,  or  might  not,  happen  in 
the  world  seven  hundred  years  afterwards. 

It  is,  as  already  observed,  of  this  time  of  sorrow  and  suffering 
to  the  Jews  that  Jeremiah  is  speaking  in  the  verse  in  question. 
In  the  two  next  verses,  the  16th  and  17th,  he  endeavors  to 
console  the  sufferings  by  giving  them  hopes,  and  according  to  the 
fashion  of  speaking  in  those  days,  assurances  from  the  Lord, 
that  their  sufferings  should  have  an  end,  and  that  their  children 
should  return  again  to  their  own  children.  But  I  leave  the 
verses  to  speak  for  themselves,  and  the  Old  Testament  to  testify 
against  the  New. 

Jeremiah,  chap.  xxxi.  ver.  15. — "Thus  saith  the  Lord,  a 
voice  was  heard  in  Rainah  (it  is  in  the  preter  tense),  lamentation 
and  bitter  weeping:  Rachel  weeping  for  her  children  because 
they  were  not." 

Verse  16. — "Thus  saith  the  Lord,  refrain  thy  voice  from 
weeping,  and  thine  eyes  from  tears ;  for  thy  work  shall  be  re- 
warded, said  the  Lord,  and  THEY  shall  come  again  from  the  land 
of  the  enemy." 

Verse  17. — "And  there  is  hope  in  thine  end,  saith  the  Lord, 
that  thy  children  shall  come  again  to  their  own  border." 

By  what  strange  ignorance  or  imposition  is  it,  that  the  chil- 
dren of  which  Jeremiah  speaks  (meaning  the  people  of  the 
Jewish  nation,  scripturally  called  children  of  Israel,  and  not 
mere  infants  under  two  years  old),  and  who  were  to  return 
again  from  the  land  of  the  enemy,  and  come  again  into  their 
own  borders,  can  mean  the  children  that  Matthew  makes  Herod 
to  slaughter?  Could  those  return  again  from  the  land  of  the 
enemy,  or  how  can  the  land  of  the  enemy  be  applied  to  them  I 
Could  they  come  again  to  their  own  borders  ?  Good  heavens  ! 
How  has  the  world  been  imposed  upon  by  Testament-makers, 
priestcraft,  and  pretended  prophecies.  I  pass  on  to  the  fifth 
passage  called  a  prophecy  of  Jesus  Christ. 

This,  like  two  of  the  former,  is  introduced  by  dream.     Josepb 


THE  PROPHECIES.  175 

dreamed  another  dream,  and  dreameth  of  another  Angel.  And 
Matthew  is  again  the  historian  of  the  dream  and  the  dreamer. 
If  it  were  asked  how  Matthew  could  know  what  Joseph  dreamed, 
neither  the  Bishop  nor  all  the  Church  could  answer  the  ques- 
tion. Perhaps  it  was  Matthew  that  dreamed,  and  not  Joseph ; 
that  is,  Joseph  dreamed  by  proxy,  in  Matthew's  brain,  as  they 
tell  us  Daniel  dreamed  for  Nebuchadnezzar.  But  be  this  as  it 
may,  I  go  on  with  my  subject. 

The  account  of  this  dream  is  in  Matthew,  chap.  ii.  ver.  19. 
— "  But  when  Herod  was  dead,  behold  an  angel  of  the  Lord 
appeared  in  a  dream  to  Joseph  in  Egypt,  saying,  Arise,  and 
take  the  young  child  and  its  mother  and  go  into  the  land  of 
Israel,  for  they  are  dead  which  sought  the  young  child's  life. 
And  he  arose  and  took  the  young  child  and  his  mother  and  came 
into  the  land  of  Israel.  But  when  he  heard  that  Archelaus  did 
reign  in  Judea  in  the  room  of  his  father  Herod,  he  was  afraid 
to  go  thither:  notwithstanding  being  warned  of  God  in  a 
dream  (here  is  another  dream),  he  turned  aside  into  the  parts  of 
Galilee ;  and  he  came  and  dwelt  in  a  city  called  Nazareth,  that 
it  might  be  fulfilled  which  was  spoken  by  the  prophets,  He,  shall 
be  called  a  Nazarene  " 

Here  is  good  circumstantial  evidence  that  Matthew  dreamed, 
for  there  is  no  such  passage  in  all  the  Old  Testament ;  and  I 
invite  the  bishop  and  all  the  priests  in  Christendom,  including 
those  of  America,  to  produce  it.  I  pass  on  to  the  sixth  pas- 
sage, called  a  prophecy  of  Jesus  Christ. 

This,  as  Swift  says  on  another  occasion,  is  lugged  in  head  and 
shoulders.  It  need  only  to  be  seen  in  order  to  be  hooted  as  a 
forced  and  far-fetched  piece  of  imposition. 

Matthew,  chap.  iv.  v.  12.  "  Now  when  Jesus  had  heard  that 
John  was  cast  into  prison,  he  departed  into  Galilee — and  leav- 
ing Nazareth,  he  came  and  dwelt  in  Capernaum,  which  is  upon 
the  sea-coast,  in  the  borders  of  Zebulon  and  Nephthalim — That 
it  might  be  fulfilled  which  was  spoken  by  Esaias  (Isaiah)  the 
prophet,  saying,  The  land  of  Zebulon  and  the  land  of  Nepthalim, 
by  the  way  of  the  sea,  beyond  Jordan,  in  Galilee  of  the  Gentiles 
— the  people  which  sat  in  darkness  saw  great  light ;  and  to  them 
which  sat  in  the  region  and  shadow  of  death,  light  is  springing 
upon  them." 

I  wonder  Matthew  has  not  made  the  cris-cross-row,  or  the 
christ-cross-row  (I  know  not  how  the  priests  spell  it)  into  a  pro- 
phecy. He  might  as  well  have  done  this  as  cut  out  these  uu- 


176  EXAMINATION  OF 

connected  and  undescriptive  sentences  from  the  place  they  stand 
in  and  dubbed  them  with  that  title. 

The  words,  however,  are  in  Isaiah,  chap.  ix.  verses  1,  2,  as 
follows : — 

"  Nevertheless  the  dimness  shall  not  be  such  as  was  in  her 
vexation,  when  at  the  first  he  lightly  afflicted  the  land  of  Zebulon 
and  the  land  of  Nephthali,  and  afterward  did  more  grievously 
afflict  her  by  the  way  of  tlie  sea,  beyond  Jordan,  in  Galilee  of  the 
nations." 

All  this  relates  to  two  circumstances  that  had  already  hap 
pened,  at  the  time  these  words  in  Isaiah  were  written.  The 
one,  where  the  land  of  Zebulon  and  Nephthali  had  been  lightly 
afflicted,  and  afterwards  more  grievously  by  the  way  of  the  sea. 

But  observe,  reader,  how  Matthew  has  falsified  the  text.  He 
begins  his  quotation  at  a  part  of  the  verse  where  there  is  not 
so  much  as  a  comma,  and  thereby  cuts  off  everything  that  re- 
lates to  the  first  affliction.  He  then  leaves  out  all  that  relates 
to  the  second  affliction,  and  by  this  means  leaves  out  everything 
that  makes  the  verse  intelligible,  and  reduces  it  to  a  senseless 
skeleton  of  names  and  towns. 

To  bring  this  imposition  of  Matthew  clearly  and  immediately 
before  the  eye  of  the  reader,  I  will  repeat  the  verse,  and  put 
between  crotchets  the  words  he  has  left  out,  and  put  in  Italics 
those  he  has  preserved. 

[Nevertheless  the  dimness  shall  not  be  such  as  was  in  her 
vexation  when  at  the  first  he  lightly  afflicted]  the  land  of  Zebulon 
and  the  land  of  Nephthali,  [and  did  afterwards  more  grievously 
afflict  her]  by  the  way  of  the  sea  beyond  Jordan  in  Galilee  of  tho 
nations." 

What  gross  imposition  is  it  to  gut,  as  the  phrase  is,  a  verse 
in  this  manner,  render  it  perfectly  senseless,  and  then  puff  it  off 
on  a  credulous  world  as  a  prophecy.  I  proceed  to  the  next 
verse. 

Ver.  2.  "The  people  that  walked  in  darkness  have  seen  a 
great  light :  they  that  dwell  in  the  land  of  the  shadow  of  death, 
upon  them  hath  the  light  shined."  All  this  is  historical,  and 
not  in  the  least  prophetical  The  whole  is  in  the  preter  tense  : 
it  speaks  of  things  that  had  been  accomplished  at  the  time  the 
words  were  written,  and  not  of  things  to  be  accomplished  after- 
wards. 

As  then  the  passage  is  in  no  possible  sense  prophetical,  nor 
intended  to  be  so,  and  that  to  attempt  to  make  it  so,  is  not  only 


THE  PROPHECIES.  177 

to  falsify  the  original,  but  to  commit  a  criminal  imposition ;  it 
is  a  matter  of  no  concern  to  us,  otherwise  than  as  curiosity,  to 
know  who  the  p.eople  were  of  which  the  passage  speaks,  that  sat 
in  darkness,  and  what  the  light  was  that  shined  in  upon  them. 

If  we  look  into  the  preceding  chapter,  the  8th,  of  which  the 
9th  is  only  a  continuation,  we  shall  find  the  writer  speaking,  at 
the  19th  verse,  of  "witches  and  wizards  who  peep  about  and 
mutter"  and  of  people  who  made  application  to  them  ;  and  he 
preaches  and  exhorts  them  against  this  darksome  practice.  It  is 
of  this  people,  and  of  this  darksome  practice,  or  walking  in  dark- 
ness, that  he  is  speaking  at  the  2nd  verse  of  the  9th  chapter ; 
and  with  respect  to  the  light  that  liad  shined  in  upon  them,  it 
refers  entirely  to  his  own  ministry,  and  to  the  boldness  of  it, 
which  opposed  itself  to  that  of  the  witcltes  and  wizards  who 
peeped  about  and  muttered. 

Isaiah  is,  upon  the  whole,  a  wild  disorderly  writer,  preserving 
in  general  no  clear  chain  of  perception  in  the  arrangement  of 
his  ideas,  and  consequently  producing  no  defined  conclusions 
from  them.  It  is  the  wildness  of  his  style,  the  confusion  of  his 
ideas,  and  the  ranting  metaphors  he  employs,  that  have  afforded 
so  many  opportunities  to  priestcraft  in  some  cases,  and  to  super- 
stition in  others,  to  impose  those  defects  upon  the  world  as  pro- 
phecies of  Jesus  Christ.  Finding  no  direct  meaning  in  them, 
and  not  knowing  what  to  make  of  them,  and  supposing  at  the 
same  time  they  were  intended  to  have  a  meaning,  they  supplied 
the  defect  by  inventing  a  meaning  of  their  own,  and  called  it 
his.  I  have,  however,  in  this  place  done  Isaiah  the  justice  to 
rescue  him  from  the  claws  of  Matthew,  who  has  torn  him  un- 
mercifully to  pieces ;  and  from  the  imposition  or  ignorance  of 
priests  and  commentators,  by  letting  Isaiah  speak  for  himself. 

If  the  words  walking  in  darkness,  and  light  breaking  iny 
could  in  any  case  be  applied  prophetically,  which  they  cannot 
be,  they  would  better  apply  to  the  times  we  now  live  in  than  to 
any  other.  The  world  has  "  walked  in  darkness"  for  eighteen 
hundred  years,  both  as  to  religion  and  government,  and  it  is 
only  since  the  American  Revolution  began  that  light  has  broken 
in.  The  belief  of  one  God,  whose  attributes  are  revealed  to  us 
in  the  book  or  scripture  of  the  creation,  which  no  human  hand 
can  counterfeit  or  falsify,  and  not  in  the  written  or  printed  book 
which,  as  Matthew  has  shown,  can  be  altered  or  falsified  by 
ignorance  or  design,  is  now  making  its  way  among  us ;  and  as 
to  government,  the  light  is  already  gone  forth,  and  whilst  men 
12 


178  EXAMINATION   OF 

ought  to  be  careful  not  to  be  blinded  by  the  excess  of  it,  as  at 
a  certain  time  in  France,  when  everything  was  Robespierrean 
violence,  they  ought  to  reverence,  and  even  to  adore  it,  with  all 
the  firmness  and  perseverance  that  true  wisdom  can  inspire. 

I  pass  on  to  the  seventh  passage,  called  a  prophecy  of  Jesus 
Christ 

Matthew,  chap.  viii.  ver.  1 6.  "  When  the  evening  was  come, 
they  brought  unto  him  (Jesus)  many  that  were  possessed  with 
devils,  and  he  cast  out  the  spirit  with  his  word,  and  healed  all 
that  were  sick, — That  it  might  be  fulfilled  which  was  spoken 
by  Esaias  (Isaiah)  the  prophet,  saying,  himself  took  our  infirmir 
ties,  and  bare  our  sicknesses." 

This  affair  of  people  being  possessed  by  devils,  and  of  cast- 
ing them  out,  was  the  fable  of  the  day  when  the  books  of  the 
New  Testament  were  written.  It  had  not  existence  at  any 
other  time.  The  books  of  the  Old  Testament  mention  no  such 
thing ;  the  people  of  the  present  day  know  of  no  such  thing ; 
nor  does  the  history  of  any  people  or  country  speak  of  such  a 
thing.  It  starts  upon  us  all  at  onco  in  the  book  of  Matthew, 
and  is  altogether  an  invention  of  the  Now  Testament-makers 
and  the  Christian  church.  The  book  of  Matthew  is  the  first 
book  where  the  word  D'.vil  is  mentioned.*  AVn  road  in  some 
of  the  books  of  the  Old  Testament  of  things  called  familiar 
spirits,  the  supposed  companions  of  people  called  witches  and 
wizards.  It  was  no  other  than  the  trick  of  pretended  conjurors 
to  obtain  money  from  credulous  and  ignorant  people,  or  the 
fabricated  charge  of  superstitious  malignancy  against  unfor- 
tunate and  decrepit  old  age 

But  the  idea  of  a  familiar  spirit,  if  we  can  affix  any  idea  to 
the  term,  is  exceedingly  different  to  that  of  being  possessed  by 
a  devil.  In  the  one  case,  the  supposed  familiar  spirit  is  a  dex- 
terous agent,  that  comes  and  goes  and  does  as  he  is  bidden ;  in 
the  other,  he  is  a  turbulent  roaring  monster,  that  tears  and  tor- 
tures the  body  into  convulsions.  Reader,  whoever  thou  art, 
put  thy  trust  in  thy  Creator,  make  use  of  the  reason  he  en- 
dowed thee  with,  and  cast  from  thee  all  such  fables. 

The  passage  alluded  to  by  Matthew,  for  as  a  quotation  it  is 
false,  is  in  Isaiah,  chap.  liii.  ver.  4,  which  is  as  follows : 

"Surely  he  (the  person  of  whom  Isaiah  is  speaking)  hath 
borne  our  griefs  and  carried  our  sorrows."  It  is  in  the  preter 
tense. 

*  The  word  devil  is  a  personification  of  the  word  evil. 


THE   PROPHECIES.  179 

Here  is  nothing  about  casting  out  devils,  nor  curing  of  sick- 
ness. The  passage,  therefore,  so  far  from  being  a  prophecy  of 
Christ,  is  not  even  applicable  as  a  circumstance. 

Isaiah,  or  at  least  the  writer  of  the  book  that  bears  his  name, 
employs  the  whole  of  this  chapter,  the  53rd,  in  lamenting  the 
sufferings  of  some  deceased  person,  of  whom  he  speaks  very 
pathetically.  It  is  a  monody  on  the  death  of  a  friend ;  but  he 
mentions  not  the  name  of  the  person,  nor  gives  a  circumstance 
of  him  by  which  he  can  be  personally  known  ;  and  it  is  this 
silence,  which  is  evidence  of  nothing,  that  Matthew  has  laid 
hold  of  to  put  the  name  of  Christ  to  it ;  as  if  the  chiefs  of  the 
Jews,  whose  sorrows  were  then  great,  and  the  times  they  lived 
in  big  with  danger,  were  never  thinking  about  their  own  affairs, 
nor  the  fate  of  their  own  friends,  but  were  continually  running 
a  wild-goose  chase  into  futurity. 

To  make  a  monody  into  a  prophecy  is  an  absurdity.  The 
characters  and  circumstances  of  men,  even  in  different  ages  of 
the  world,  are  so  much  alike,  that  what  is  said  of  one  may  with 
propriety  be  said  of  many  ;  but  this  fitness  does  not  make  the 
passage  into  a  prophecy  ;  and  none  but  an  impostor  or  a  bigot 
would  call  it  so. 

Isaiah,  in  deploring  the  hard  fate  and  loss  of  his  friend,  men- 
tions nothing  of  him  but  what  the  human  lot  of  man  is  subject 
to.  All  the  cases  he  states  of  him,  his  persecutions,  his  impris- 
onment, his  patience  in  suffering,  and  his  perseverance  in  prin- 
ciple, are  all  within  the  line  of  nature  :  they  belong  exclusively 
to  none,  and  may  with  justness  be  said  of  many.  But  if  Jesus 
Christ  was  the  person  the  church  represents  him  to  be,  that 
which  would  exclusively  apply  to  him,  must  be  something  that 
could  not  apply  to  any  other  person ;  something  beyond  the 
line  of  nature  ;  something  beyond  the  lot  of  mortal  man  ;  and 
there  are  no  such  expressions  in  this  chapter  nor  any  other 
chapter  in  the  Old  Testament. 

It  is  no  exclusive  description  to  say  of  a  person,  as  is  said  of 
the  person  Isaiah  is  lamenting  in  this  chapter,  lie,  was  op- 
pressed and  he  was  afflicted,  yet  he  opened  not  his  mouth  ;  he  is 
brought  as  a  lamb  to  the  slaughter,  and  as  a  sheen  before  his 
shearers  is  dumb,  so  he  opened  not  his  mouth."  This  may  be 
said  of  thousands  of  persons,  who  have  suffered  oppressions  and 
unjust  death  with  patience,  silence  and  perfect  resignation. 

Grotius,  whom  the  bishop  esteems  a  most  learned  man.  and 
who  certainly  was  so,  supposes  that  f  it>  person  of  whom  Isaiah 


180  EXAMINATION   OF 

is  speaking,  is  Jeremiah.  Grotius  is  led  into  this  opinion,  from 
the  agreement  there  is  between  the  description  given  by  Isaiah, 
and  the  case  of  Jeremiah,  as  stated  in  the  book  that  bears  his 
name.  If  Jeremiah  was  an  innocent  man,  and  not  a  traitor  in 
the  interest  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  when  Jerusalem  was  besieged 
his  case  was  hard ;  he  was  accused  by  his  countrymen,  was 
persecuted,  oppressed,  and  imprisoned,  and  he  says  of  himself 
(see  Jeremiah,  chap.  ii.  ver.  19),  "  But  as  for  me,  I  was  like  a 
lamb  or  an  ox  that  is  brought  to  the  slighter." 

I  should  be  inclined  to  the  same  opinion  with  Grotius,  had 
Isaiah  lived  at  the  same  time  when  Jeremiah  underwent  the 
cruelties  of  which  he  speaks  ;  but  Isaiah  died  about  fifty  years 
before  j  and  it  is  of  a  person  of  his  own  time,  whose  case  Isaiah 
is  lamenting  in  the  chapter  in  question,  and  which  imposition 
and  bigotry,  more  than  seven  hundred  years  afterwards,  per- 
verted into  a  prophecy  of  a  person  they  call  Jesus  Christ. 

I  pass  on  to  the  eighth  passage  called  a  prophecy  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Matthew,  chap.  xii.  ver.  14.  "Then  the  Pharisees  went  out 
and  held  a  council  against  him,  how  they  might  destroy  him — 
But  when  Jesus  knew  it  he  withdrew  himself  ;  and  great  num- 
bers followed  him  and  he  healed  them  all — and  he  charged  them 
that  they  should  not  make  him  known  ;  That  it  might  be  ful- 
filled which  was  spoken  by  Esaias  (Isaiah)  the  prophet,  saying, 

"  Behold  my  servant  whom  I  have  chosen ;  my  beloved  in 
whom  my  soul  is  well  pleased,  I  will  put  my  spirit  upon  him, 
and  he  shall  show  judgment  to  the  Gentiles — he  shall  not  strive 
nor  cry,  neither  shall  any  man  hear  his  voice  in  the  streets — a 
bruised  reed  shall  he  not  break,  and  smoking  flax  shall  he  not 
quench,  till  he  sends  forth  judgment  unto  victory — and  in  his 
name  shall  the  Gentiles  trust." 

In  the  first  place,  this  passage  hath  not  the  least  relation  to 
the  purpose  for  which  it  is  quoted. 

Matthew  says  that  the  Pharisees  held  a  council  against  Jesus 
to  destroy  him — that  Jesus  withdrew  himself — that  great  num- 
bers followed  him — that  he  healed  them — and  that  he  charged 
them  they  should  not  make  him  known. 

But  the  passage  Matthew  has  quoted  as  being  fulfilled  by  these 
circumstances,  does  not  so  much  as  apply  to  any  one  of  them. 
It  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  Pharisees  holding  a  council  to 
destroy  Jesus — with  his  withdrawing  himself — with  great  num- 
bers following  him^-with  his  healing  them — nor  with  his  charg- 
ing them  not  to  make  him  known. 


THE  PROPHECIES.  181 

The  purpose  for  which  the  passage  is  quoted  and  the  passage 
itself,  are  as  remote  from  each  other,  as  nothing  from  some- 
thing. But  the  case  is,  that  people  have  been  so  long  in  the 
habit  of  reading  the  books  called  the  Bible  and  Testament  with 
their  eyes  shut  and  their  senses  locked  up,  that  the  most  stupid 
inconsistencies  have  passed  on  them  for  trxith,  and  imposition 
for  prophecy.  The  all-wise  Creator  has  been  dishonored  by 
being  made  the  author  of  fable,  and  the  human  mind  degraded 
by  believing  it. 

In  this  passage  as  in  that  last  mentioned,  the  name  of  the 
person  of  whom  the  passage  speaks  is  not  given,  and  we  are 
left  in  the  dark  respecting  him.  It  is  this  defect  in  the  his- 
tory, that  bigotry  and  imposition  have  laid  hold  of  to  call  it 
prophecy. 

Had  Isaiah  lived  in  the  time  of  Cyrus,  the  passage  would 
descriptively  apply  to  him.  As  king  of  Persia,  his  authority 
was  great  among  the  Gentiles,  and  it  is  of  such  a  character  the 
passage  speaks ;  and  his  friendship  for  the  Jews  whom  he  lib- 
erated from  captivity,  and  who  might  then  be  compared  to  a 
bruised  reed,  was  extensive.  But  this  description  does  not 
apply  to  Jesus  Christ,  who  had  no  authority  among  the  Gen- 
tiles ,  and  as  to  his  own  countrymen,  figuratively  described  by 
the  bruised  reed,  it  was  they  who  crucified  him.  Neither  can 
it  be  said  of  him  that  he  did  not  cry,  and  that  his  voice  was  not 
heard  in  the  street.  As  a  preacher  it  was  his  business  to  be 
heard,  and  we  are  told  that  IK;  travelled  about  the  country  for 
that  purpose.  Matthew  has  given  a  long  sermon,  which  (if  his 
authority  is  good,  but  which  is  much  to  be  doubted  since  he  im- 
poses so  much,)  Jesus  preached  to  a  multitude  upon  a  mountain, 
and  it  would  be  a  quibble  to  say  that  a  mountain  is  not  a  street, 
since  it  is  a  place  equally  as  public. 

The  last  verse  in  the  passage  (the  4th)  as  it  stands  in  Isaiah, 
and  which  Matthew  has  not  quoted,  says,  "  He  shall  not  fail 
nor  be  discouraged  till  he  have  set  judgment  in  the  earth  and 
the  isles  shall  wait  for  his  law."  This  also  applies  to  Cyrus. 
He  was  not  discouraged,  he  did  not  fail,  he  conquered  all  Baby- 
lon, liberated  the  Jews,  and  established  laws.  But  this  cannot 
be  said  of  Jesus  Christ,  who  in  the  passage  before  us,  according 
to  Matthew,  withdrew  himself  for  fear  of  the  Pharisees,  and 
charged  the  people  that  followed  him  not  to  make  it  known 
where  he  was ;  and  who,  according  to  other  parts  of  the  Testa- 


182  EXAMINATION   OF 

ment,  was  continually  moving  from  place  to  place  to  avoid 
being  apprehended.* 

But  it  is  immaterial  to  us,  at  this  distance  of  time,  to  know 
who  the  person  was:  it  is  sufficient  for  the  purpose  I  am  upon, 
that  of  detecting  fraud  and  falsehood,  to  know  who  it  was  not, 
and  to  show  it  was  not  the  person  called  Jesus  Christ. 

I  pass  on  to  the  ninth  passage  called  a  prophecy  of  Jesus 
Christ. 

Matthew,  chap.  xxi.  v.  1.  "And  when  they  drew  nigh  unto 
Jerusalem,  and  were  come  to  Bethpage,  unto  the  mount  of 
Olive's,  then  Jesus  sent  two  of  his  disciples,  saying  unto  them, 
go  into  the  village  over  against  you,  and  straightway  ye  shall 
find  an  ass  tied,  and  a  colt  with  her,  loose  them  and  bring  them 

*  In  the  second  part  of  the  "Age  of  Reason,"  I  have  shown  that  the  book 
ascribed  to  Isaiah  is  not  only  miscellaneous  as  to  matter  but  as  to  author- 
ship ;  that  there  are  parts  in  it  which  could  not  be  written  by  Isaiah,  because 
they  speak  of  things  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  after  he  was  dead.  The 
instance  I  have  given  of  this,  in  that  work,  corresponds  with  the  subject  I 
am  upon,  at  least  a  little  better  than  Matthew's  introduction  and  his  quotation. 

Isaiah  lived,  the  latter  part  of  his  life,  in  the  time  of  Hezekiah,  and  it 
was  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  years,  from  the  death  of  Hezekiah  to  the 
first  year  of  the  reign  of  Cyrus,  when  Cyrus  published  a  proclamation  which 
is  given  in  the  first  chapter  of  the  book  of  Ezra,  for  the  return  of  the  Jews 
to  Jerusalem.  It  cannot  be  doubted,  at  least  it  ought  not  to  be  doubted, 
that  the  Jews  would  feel  an  affectionate  gratitude  for  this  act  of  benevolent 
justice,  and  it  is  natural  they  would  express  that  gratitude  in  the  custom- 
ary style,  bombastical  and  hyperbolical  as  it  was,  which  they  used  on  ex- 
traordinary  occasions,  and  which  was,  and  still  is  in  practice  with  all  the 
eastern  nations. 

The  instance  to  which  I  refer,  and  which  is  given  in  the  second  part  of  the 
"  Age  of  Reason, "  is  the  last  verse  of  the  44th  chapter,  and  the  beginning  of 
the  45th— in  these  words  :  "  That  saith  of  Cyrus,  he  is  my  shepherd  and  shall 
perform,  all  my  pleasure :  even  sai/inff  to  Jerusalem  thou  shalt  be  built,  and  to 
the  Temple,  thy  foundation  shall  'be  laid.  Thus  saith  the  Lord  to  his  anointed 
to  Cyrus,  whose  right  hand  I  haw  holden  to  subdue  nations  before  him;  and  I 
will  loose  the  loins  of  kings,  to  open  before  him  the  two-leaved  gates,  and  the 
gates  shall  not  be  shut." 

This  complimentary  address  is  in  the  present  tense,  which  shows  that  the 
things  of  which  it  sneaks  were  in  existence  at  the  time  of  writing  it ;  and 
consequently  that  the  author  must  have  been  at  least  one  hundred  and  fifty 
years  Liter  than  Isaiah,  and  that  the  book  which  bears  his  name  is  a  com- 
pilation. The  Proverbs  called  Solomon's,  and  the  Psalms  called  David's, 
are  of  the  same  kind.  The  two  last  verses  of  the  second  book  of  Chronicles, 
and  the  three  first  verses  of  the  first  chapter  of  Ezra,  are  word  for  word  the 
same ;  which  show  that  the  compilers  of  the  Bible  mixed  the  writings  of 
different  authors  together,  and  put  them  under  some  common  head. 

As  we  have  here  an  instance  in  the  44th  and  45th  chapters  of  the  introduc- 
tion of  the  name  of  Cyrus  into  a  book  to  which  it  cannot  belong,  it  affords 
pood  ground  to  conclude,  that  the  passage  in  the  42nd  chapter,  in  which  the 
character  of  Cvrus  is  given  without  his  name,  has  been  introduced  in  like 
r,  and  that  the  person  there  spoke  of  is  Cyrus. 


THE   PEOPHECIES.  183 

unto  me — and  if  any  man  say  ought  to  you,  ye  shall  say,  the 
Lord  hath  need  of  them,  and  straightway  he  will  send  them. 

"All  this  was  done  that  it  might  be  fulfilled  which  was  spoken 
by  the  prophet,  saying,  Tell  ye  the  daughter  <f  Sion,  behold 
thi/  king  cometh  imto  thee  meek,  and  sitting  upon  an  ass,  and  a 
colt,  the  foal  of  an  ass." 

Poor  ass!  let  it  be  some  consolation  amidst  all  thy  sufferings, 
that  if  the  heathen  world  erected  a  bear  into  a  constellation,  the 
Christian  world  has  elevated  thee  into  a  prophecy. 

This  passage  is  in  Zechariah,  chap.  ix.  ver.  9,  and  is  one  of 
the  whims  of  friend  Zechariah  to  congratulate  his  countrymen, 
who  were  then  returning  from  captivity  in  Babylon,  and  him- 
self with  them,  to  Jerusalem.  It  has  no  concern  with  any 
other  subject.  It  is  strange  that  apostles,  priests,  and  commeri- 
tators,  never  permit,  or  never  suppose,  the  Jews  to  be  speaking 
of  their  own  affairs.  Everything  in  the  Jewish  books  is  per- 
verted and  distorted  into  meanings  never  intended  by  the  writers. 
Even  the  poor  ass  must  not  be  a  Jew-ass  but  a  Christian-ass.  I 
wonder  they  did  not  make  an  apostle  of  him,  or  a  bishop,  or 
at  least  make  him  speak  and  prophesy.  He  could  have  lifted  up 
his  voice  as  loud  as  any  of  them. 

Zechariah,-  in  the  first  chapter  of  his  book,  indulges  himself 
in  several  whims  on  the  joy  of  getting  back  to  Jerusalem.  Ho 
says  at  the  8th  verse,  "  I  saw  by  night  (Zechariah  was  a  sharp- 
sighted  seer)  and  behold  a  man  setting  on  a  red  horse  (yes,  reader, 
a  red  horse),  and  he  stood  among  the  myrtle  trees  that  were  in 
the  bottom,  and  behind  him  were  red  horses  speckled  and  white." 
He  says  nothing  about  green  horses  nor  blue  horses,  perhaps 
because  it  is  difficult  to  distinguish  green  from  blue  by  night, 
but  a  Christian  can  have  no  doubt  they  were  there,  because 
"jaith  is  the  evidence  of  things  not  seen." 

Zechariah  then  introduces  an  angel  among  his  horses,  but  he 
does  not  tell  us  what  color  the  angel  was  of,  whether  black  or 
white,  nor  whether  he  came  to  buy  horses,  or  only  to  look  at 
them  as  curiosities,  for  certainly  they  were  of  that  kind.  Be 
this  however  as  it  may,  he  enters  into  conversation  with  this 
angel  on  the  joyful  affair  of  getting  back  to  Jerusalem,  and  he 
saith  at  the  16th  verse,  "  Therefore,  thus  saith  the  Lord  /  am 
returned  to  Jerusalem  with  mercies;  my  house  shall  be  built  in 
it  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts,  and  a  line  shall  be  stretched  fo^1' 
upon  Jerusalem."  An  expression  signifying 
city. 


184  EXAMINATION   OF 

All  this,  •whimsical  and  imaginary  as  it  is,  sufficiently  proves 
that  it  was  the  entry  of  the  Jews  into  Jerusalem  from  captivity, 
and  not  the  entry  of  Jesus  Christ,  seven  hundred  years  after- 
wards, that  is  the  subject  upon  which  Zechariah  is  always 
speaking. 

As  to  the  expression  of  riding  upon  an  ass,  which  commenta- 
tors represent  as  a  sign  of  humility  in  Jesus  Christ,  the  case  is, 
he  never  was  so  well  mounted  before.  The  asses  of  those  coun- 
tries are  large  and  well-proportioned,  and  were  anciently  the 
chief  of  riding  animals.  Their  beasts  of  burden,  and  which 
served  also  for  the  conveyance  of  the  poor,  were  camels  and 
dromedaries.  We  read  in  Judges,  chap.  x.  ver.  4,  that  "  Jair 
(one  of  the  Judges  of  Israel)  had  thirty  sons  that  rode  on  thirty 
ass-colts,  and  they  had  thirty  cities."  But  commentators  distort 
everything. 

There  is  besides  very  reasonable  grounds  to  conclude  that  this 
story  of  Jesus  riding  publicly  into  Jerusalem,  accompanied,  as 
it  is  said  at  the  8th  and  9th  verses,  by  a  great  multitude,  shout- 
ing and  rejoicing,  and  spreading  their  garments  by  the  way,  is 
altogether  a  story  destitute  of  truth. 

In  the  last  passage  called  a  prophecy  that  I  examined,  Jesus 
is  represented  as  withdrawing,  that  is,  running  away,  and  con- 
cealing himself  for  fear  of  being  apprehended,  and  charging  the 
people  that  were  with  him  not  to  make  him  known.  No  new 
circumstance  had  arisen  in  the  interim  to  change  his  condition 
for  the  better;  yet  here  he  is  represented  as  making  his  public 
entry  into  the  same  city  from  which  he  had  fled  for  safety.  The 
two  cases  contradict  each  other  so  much,  that  if  both  are  not 
false,  one  of  them  at  least  can  scarcely  be  true.  For  my  own 
part,  I  do  not  believe  there  is  one  word  of  historical  truth  in 
the  whole  book.  I  look  upon  it  at  best  to  be  a  romance,  the 
principal  personage  of  which  is  an  imaginary  or  allegorical  char- 
acter founded  upon  some  tale,  and  in  which  the  moral  is  in  many 
parts  good,  and  the  narrative  part  very  badly  and  blunderingly 
written. 

I  pass  on  to  the  tenth  passage,  called  a  prophecy  of  Jesus 
Christ. 

Matthew,  chap.  xxvi.  ver.  51.  "  And  behold  one  of  them 
which  was  with  Jesus  (meaning  Peter)  stretched  out  his 
hand,  and  drew  his  sword,  and  struck  a  servant  of  the  high 
priest,  and  smote  off  his  ear.  Then  said  Jesus  unto  him, 
Put  up  again  thy  sword  into  its  place,  for  all  they  that  take 


THE  PROPHECIES.  185 

the  sword  shall  perish  with  the  sword.  Thinkest  thou  that 
I  cannot  now  pray  to  my  Father,  and  he  shall  presently  give 
me  more  than  twelve  legions  of  angels.  But  how  then  shall 
the  scriptures  be  fulfilled  that  thus  it  must  be.  In  that  same 
hour  Jesus  said  to  the  multitudes,  are  ye  come  out  as  against 
a  thief,  with  swords  and  with  staves  for  to  take  me?  I  sat 
daily  with  you  teaching  in  the  temple,  and  ye  laid  no  hold 
on  me.  But  all  this  was  done  that  the  scriptures  of  the  pro- 
phets might  be  fulfilled." 

This  loose  and  general  manner  of  speaking,  admits  neither  of 
detection  nor  of  proof.  Here  is  no  quotation  given,  nor  the 
name  of  any  Bible  author  mentioned,  to  which  reference  can 
be  had. 

There  are,  however,  some  high  improbabilities  against  the 
truth  of  the  account. 

First — It  is  not  probable  that  the  Jews,  who  were  then  a 
conquered  people,  and  under  subjection  to  the  Romans,  should 
be  permitted  to  wear  swords. 

Secondly — If  Peter  had  attacked  the  servant  of  the  high 
priest  and  cut  off  his  ear,  he  would  have  been  immediately 
taken  up  by  the  guard  that  took  up  his  master  and  sent  to 
prison  with  him. 

Thirdly — What  sort  of  disciples  and  preaching  aposcles  must 
those  of  Christ  have  been  that  wore  swords  ? 

Fourthly — This  scene  is  represented  to  have  taken  place  the 
game  evening  of  what  is  called  the  Lord's  supper,  which  makes, 
according  to  the  ceremony  of  it,  the  inconsistency  of  wearing 
swords  the  greater. 

I  pass  on  to  the  eleventh  passage  called  a  prophecy  of  Jesus 
Christ. 

Matthew,  chap,  xxvii.  ver.  3.  "  Then  Judas  which  had  be- 
trayed him,  when  he  saw  that  he  was  condemned,  repented 
himself,  and  brought  again  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver  to  the 
chief  priests  and  elders,  saying,  I  have  sinned  in  that  I  have 
betrayed  the  innocent  blood.  And  they  said,  What  is  that  to 
us,  see  thou  to  that.  And  he  cast  down  the  thirty  pieces  of 
silver,  and  departed,  and  went  and  hanged  himself — And  the 
chief  priests  took  the  silver  pieces  and  said,  it  is  not  lawful  to 
put  them  into  the  treasury,  because  it  is  the  pi-ice  of  blood — 
And  they  took  counsel  and  bought  with  them  the  potter's 
field  to  bury  strangers  in — Wherefore  that  field  is  called  the 
field  of  blood  unto  this  clay.  Then  was  fulfilled  that  which 


186  EXAMINATION  OF 

was  spoken  by  Jeremiah  the  prophet,  saying,  And  they  took 
the  thirty  pieces  of  silver,  the  price  of  him'  that  was  valued, 
whom  they  of  the  children  of  Israel  did  value,  and  gave  them 
for  the  potter's  field,  as  the  Lord  appointed  me." 

This  is  a  most  barefaced  piece  of  imposition.  The  passage 
in  Jeremiah  which  speaks  of  the  purchase  of  a  field,  has  no 
more  to  do  with  the  case  to  which  Matthew  applies  it,  than  it 
has  to  do  with  the  purchase  of  lands  in  America.  I  will  recite 
the  whole  passage : 

Jeremiah,  chap,  xxxii.  v.  6.  "  And  Jeremiah  said,  the  word 
of  the  Lord  came  unto  me,  saying — Behold  Hanamiel,  the  son 
of  Shallum  thine  uncle,  shall  come  unto  thee,  saying,  buy  thee 
my  field  that  is  in  Anathoth,  for  the  right  of  redemption  is 
thine  to  buy  it — So  Hanamiel  mine  uncle's  son  came  to  me  in 
the  court  of  the  prison,  according  to  the  word  of  the  Lord,  and 
said  unto  me,  buy  my  field  I  pray  thee  that  is  in  Anathoth, 
which  is  in  the  country  of  Benjamin,  for  the  right  of  inheri- 
tance is  thine,  and  the  redemption  is  thine ;  buy  it  for  thyself. 
Then  T  knew  this  was  the  word  of  the  Lord — And  I  bought 
the  field  of  Hanamiel  mine  uncle's  son,  that  was  jn  Anathoth, 
and  weighed  him  the  money,  even  seventeen  shekels  of  silver — 
and  I  subscribed  the  evidence  and  sealed  it,  and  took  witnesses 
and  weighed  him  the  money  in  balances.  So  I  took  the  evi- 
dence of  the  purchase,  both  that  which  was  sealed  according  to 
the  law  and  custom,  and  that  which  was  open — and  I  gave  the 
evidence  of  the  purchase  unto  Baruch,  the  son  of  Neriah,  the 
son  of  Maasaeiath,  in  the  sight  of  Hanamiel  mine  uncle's  son, 
and  in  the  presence  of  the  witnesses  that  subscribed,  before  all 
the  Jews  that  sat  in  the  court  of  the  prison — and  I  charged 
Baruch  before  them,  saying,  Thus  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts,  the 
God  of  Israel,  Take  these  evidences,  this  evidence  of  the  pur- 
chase both  which  is  sealed,  and  this  evidence  which  is  open,  and 
put  them  in  an  earthen  vessel,  that  they  may  continue  many 
days — for  thus  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts,  the  God  of  Israel, 
houses,  and  fields,  and  vineyards,  shall  be  possessed  again  in 
this  land." 

I  forbear  making  any  remark  on  this  abominable  imposition 
of  Matthew.  The  thing  glaringly  speaks  for  itself.  It  is  priests 
and  commentators  that  I  rather  ought  to  censure,  for  having 
preached  falsehood  so  long,  and  kept  people  in  darkness  with 
respect  to  those  impositions.  I  am  not  contending  with  these 
men  upon  points  of  doctrine,  for  I  know  that  sophistry  has  aJ- 


THE  PROPHECIES.  187 

•ways  a  city  of  refuge.  I  am  speaking  of  facts  :  for  wherever 
the  thing  called  a  fact  is  a  falsehood,  the  faith  founded  upon  it 
is  delusion,  and  the  doctrine  raised  upon  it  not  true.  Ah, 
reader,  put  thy  trust  in  thy  Creator,  and  thou  wilt  be  safe !  but 
if  thou  trustest  to  the  book  called  the  scriptures,  thou  trustest 
to  the  rotten  staff  of  fable  and  falsehood.  But  I  return  to  my 
subject. 

There  is,  among  the  whims  and  reveries  of  Zechariah,  men- 
tion made,  of  thirty  pieces  of  silver  given  to  a  potter.  They 
can  hardly  have  been  so  stupid  as  to  mistake  a  potter  for  a 
field :  and  if  they  had,  the  passage  in  Zechariah  has  no  more 
to  do  with  Jesus,  Judas,  and  the  field  to  bury  strangers  in, 
than  that  already  quoted.  I  will  recite  the  passage. 

Zechariah,  chap.  xi.  ver.  7.  "And  I  will  feed  the  flock  of 
slaughter,  even  you,  O  poor  of  the  flock ;  and  I  took  unto  me 
two  staves ;  the  one  I  called  Beauty,  and  the  other  I  called 
Bands,  and  I  fed  the  flock — Three  shepherds  also,  I  cut  off  in 
one  month ;  and  my  soul  loathed  them,  and  their  soul  also 
abhorred  me.  — Then  said  I,  I  will  not  feed  you ;  that  which 
dieth,  let  it  die ;  and  that  which  is  to  be  cut  off,  let  it  be  cut 
off ;  and  let  the  rest  eat  every  one  the  flesh  of  another. — And 
I  took  my  staff,  even  Beauty,  and  cut  it  asunder,  that  I  might 
break  my  covenant  which  I  had  made  with  all  the  people. — 
And  it  was  broken  in  that  day ;  and  so  the  poor  of  the  flock 
who  waited  upon  me,  knew  that  it  was  the  word  of  the  Lord. 

"  And  I  said  unto  them,  if  ye  think  good  give  me  my  price, 
and  if  not,  forbear.  So  they  weighed  for  my  price  thirty  pieces 
of  silver.  And  the  Lord  said  unto  me,  cast  it  unto  the  potter, 
a  goodly  price  that  I  was  prized  at  of  them ;  and  I  took  the 
thirty  pieces  of  silver  and  cast  them  to  the  potter  in  the  house 
of  the  Lord. 

"Then  I  cut  asunder  mine  other  staff,  even  Bands,  that  I 
might  break  the  brotherhood  between  Judah  and  Israel."* 

*  Whiston,  in  his  Essay  on  the  Old  Testament,  says,  that  the  passage  of 
Zechariah  of  which  I  have  spoken,  was  in  the  copies  of  the  Bible  of  the  first 
century,  in  the  book  of  Jeremiah,  from  whence,  says  he,  it  was  taken  and 
inserted  without  coherence,  in  that  of  Zechariah— well,  let  it  be  so,  it  does 
not  make  the  case  a  whit  the  better  for  the  New  Testament ;  but  it  makes 
the  case  a  great  deal  the  worse  for  the  old.  Because  it  shows  as  I  have 
mentioned  respecting  some  passages  in  a  book  ascribed  to  Isaiah,  that  the 
works  of  different  authors  have  been  so  mixed  and  confounded  together, 
they  cannot  now  be  discriminated,  except  where  they  are  historical,  chrono- 
logical, or  biographical,  as  in  the  interpolation  in  Isaiah.  It  is  the  name  of 
Cyrus  inserted  where  it  could  not  be  inserted,  as  he  was  not  in  existence  till 


188  EXAMINATION   OF 

There  is  no  making  either  head  or  tail  of  this  incoherent 
gibberish.  His  two  staves,  one  called  Beauty  and  the  other 
Bands,  is  so  much  like  a  fairy  tale,  that  I  doubt  if  it  had  any 
other  origin. — There  is,  however,  no  part  that  has  the  least  re- 
lation to  the  case  stated  in  Matthew  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  the 
reverse  of  it.  Here  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver,  whatever  it 
was  for,  is  called  a  goodly  price,  it  was  as  much  as  the  thing 
was  worth,  and  according  to  the  language  of  the  day.  was  ap- 
proved of  by  the  Lord,  and  the  money  given  to  the  potter  in 
the  house  of  the  Lord.  In  the  case  of  Jesus  and  Judas,  as 
stated  in  Matthew,  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver  were  the  price 
of  blood  ;  the  transaction  was  condemned  by  the  Lord,  and 
the  money  when  refunded,  was  refused  admittance  into  the 
Treasury.  Everything  in  the  two  cases  is  the  reverse  of  each 
other. 

Besides  this,  a  very  different  and  direct  contrary  account  to 
that  of  Matthew,  is  given  of  the  affair  of  Judas,  in  the  book 
called  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles ,  according  no  that  book,  the  case 
is,  that  so  far  from  Judas  repenting  and  returning  the  money, 
and  the  high  priest  buying  a  field  with  it  to  bury  strangers  in, 
Judas  kept  the  money  and  bought  a  field  with  it  for  himself ; 
and  instead  of  hanging  himself,  as  Matthew  says,  he  fell  head- 
long and  burst  asunder — some  commentators  endeavor  to  get 
over  one  part  of  the  contradiction  by  ridiculously  supposing 
that  Judas  hanged  himself  first  and  the  rope  broke. 

Acts,  chap.  i.  ver.  16.  "Men  and  brethren,  this  scripture 
must  needs  have  been  fulfilled  which  the  Holy  Ghost  by  the 

one  hundred  and  fifty  years  after  the  time  of  Isaiah,  that  detects  the  inter- 
polation and  the  blunder  with  it. 

Whiston  was  a  man  of  great  literary  learning,  and  what  is  of  much  higher 
degree,  of  scientific  learning.  He  was  one  of  the  best  and  most  celebrated 
mathematicians  of  his  time,  for  which  he  was  made  professor  of  mathema- 
tics of  the  University  of  Cambridge.  He  wrote  so  much  in  defence  of  the 
Old  Testament,  and  of  what  he  calls  prophecies  of  Jesus  Christ,  that  at 
last  he  began  to  suspect  the  truth  of  the  Scriptures,  and  wrote  against  them  ; 
for  it  is  only  those  who  examine  them,  that  see  the  imposition.  Those  who 
believe  them  most,  are  those  who  know  least  about  them. 

Whiston,  after  writing  BO  much  in  defence  of  the  Scriptures,  was  at  last 
prosecuted  for  writing  against  them.  It  was  this  lhat  gave  occasion  to 
Swift,  in  his  ludicrous  epigram  on  Ditton  and  Whiston,  each  of  which  set 
up  to  find  out  the  longitude,  to  call  the  one  good  master  Ditton  and  the  other 
wirki'd  Will  Whiston.  But  as  Swift  was  a  great  associate  with  the  Free- 
thinkers of  those  days  such  as  Bollingbroke,  Pope,  and  others,  who  did  not 
believe  the  book  called  the  scriptures,  there  is  no  certainty  whether  he  wit- 
tily called  him  wicked  for  defending  the  scriptures,  or  for  writing  against 
th«iu.  The  known  character  of  Swift  decides  for  the  former. 


THE  PROPHECIES.  189 

4  mouth  of  David  spake  before  concerning  Judas,  which  was  a 
guide  to  them  that  took  Jesus.  (David  says  not  a  word  about 
Judas,)  ver.  17,  for  he  (Judas)  was  numbered  among  us  and 
obtained  part  of  our  ministry." 

Ver.  18  "  Now  this  man  purchased  a  field  with  the  reward 
of  iniquity,  and  falling  headlong,  he  burst  asunder  in  the  midst, 
and  his  bowels  gushed  out."  Is  it  not  a  species  of  blasphemy 
to  call  the  New  Testament  revealed  religion,  when  we  see  in  it 
such  contradictions  and  absurdities. 

I  pass  on  to  the  twelfth  passage  called  a  prophecy  of  Jesus 
Christ. 

Matthew,  chap,  xxvii.  ver.  35.  "And  they  crucified  him, 
and  parted  his  garments,  casting  lots ;  that  it  might  be  fulfilled 
which  was  spoken  by  the  prophet,  They  parted  my  garments 
among  them,  and  ^ipon  my  vesture  did  they  cast  lots."  This 
expression  is  in  the  22nd  Psalm,  ver.  18.  The  writer  of  that 
Psalm  (whoever  he  was,  for  the  Psalms  are  a  collection  and 
not  the  work  of  one  man)  is  speaking  of  himself  and  his  own 
case,  and  not  that  of  another  He  begins  this  Psalm  with  the 
words  which  the  New  Testament  writers  ascribed  to  Jesus 
Christ.  "  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me" — 
words  which  might  be  uttered  by  a  complaining  man  without 
any  great  impropriety,  but  very  improperly  from  the  mouth  of 
a  reputed  God. 

The  picture  which  the  writer  draws  of  his  own  situation  in 
this  Psalm,  is  gloomy  enough.  He  is  not  prophecying,  but 
complaining  of  his  own  hard  case.  He  represents  himself  as 
surrounded  by  enemies,  and  beset  by  persecutions  of  every 
kind ;  and  by  way  of  showing  the  inveteracy  of  his  persecutors, 
he  says,  at  the  18th  verse,  "They  parted  my  garments  among 
them,  and  cast  lots  upon  my  vesture."  The  expression  is  in  the 
present  tense ;  and  is  the  same  as  to  say,  they  pursue  me  even 
to  the  clothes  upon  my  back,  and  dispute  how  they  shall  divide 
them;  besides,  the  word  vesture  does  not  always  mean  cloth  Ing 
of  any  kind,  but  property,  or  rather  the  admitting  a  man  to,  or 
investing  him  with  property;  and  as  it  is  used  in  this  Psalm 
distinct  from  the  word  garment,  it  appears  to  be  used  in  this 
sense.  But  Jesus  had  no  property ;  for  they  make  him  sa\  of 
himself,  "The  foxes  have  holes  and  the  birds  of  the  air  /t&ve 
nests,  but  the  Son  of  Man  hath  not  where  to  lay  his  head." 

But  be  this  as  it  may,  if  we  permit  ourselves  to  suppose  the 
Almighty  would  condescend  to  tell,  by  what  is  called  the  spirit 


190  EXAMINATION  OF 

of  prophecy,  what  could  come  to  pass  in  some  future  age  of  the 
world,  it  is  an  injury  to  our  own  faculties,  and  to  our  ideas  of 
his  greatness,  to  imagine  that  it  would  be  about  an  old  coat,  or 
an  old  pair  of  breeches,  or  about  anything  which  the  common 
accidents  of  life,  or  the  quarrels  that  attend  it,  exhibit  every 
day. 

That  which  is  in  the  power  of  man  to  do,  or  in  his  will  not 
to  do,  is  not  a  subject  for  prophecy,  even  if  there  were  such  a 
tiling,  because  it  cannot  carry  with  it  any  evidence  of  divine 
power,  or  divine  interposition :  The  ways  of  God  are  not  the 
ways  of  men.  That  which  an  almighty  power  performs,  or 
wills,  is  not  within  the  circle  of  human  power  to  do,  or  to  con- 
trol. But  any  executioner  and  his  assistants  might  quarrel 
about  dividing  the  garments  of  a  sufferer,  or  divide  them  with- 
out quarrelling,  and  by  that  means  fulfil  the  thing  called  a 
prophecy  or  set  it  aside. 

In  the  passage  before  examined,  I  have  exposed  the  false- 
hood of  them.  In  this  I  exhibit  its  degrading  meanness,  as  an 
insult  to  the  Creator  and  an  injury  to  human  reason. 

Here  end  the  passages  called  prophecies  by  Matthew. 

Matthew  concludes  his  book  by  saying,,  that  when  Christ 
expired  on  the  cross,  the  rocks  rent,  the  graves  opened,  and  the 
bodies  of  many  of  the  saints  arose ;  and  Mark  says,  there  was 
darkness  over  the  land  from  the  sixth  hour  until  the  ninth. 
They  produce  no  prophecy  for  this;  but  had  these  things  been 
facts,  they  would  have  been  a  proper  subject  for  prophecy,  be- 
cause none  but  an  almighty  power  could  have  inspired  a  fore- 
knowledge of  them,  and  afterwards  fulfilled  them.  Since  then 
there  is  no  such  prophecy,  but  a  pretended  prophecy  of  an  old 
coat,  the  proper  deduction  is,  there  were  no  such  things,  and 
that  the  book  of  Matthew  is  fable  and  falsehood. 

I  pass  on  to  the  book  called  the  Gospel  according  to  St. 
Mark. 

THE  BOOK  OF  MARK. 

THERE  are  but  few  passages  in  Mark  called  prophecies,  and 
but  few  in  Luke  and  John.  Such  as  there  are  I  shall  examine, 
and  also  such  other  passages  as  interfere  with  those  cited  by 
Matthew. 

Mark  begins  his  book  by  a  passage  which  he  puts  in  the 
shape  of  a  prophecy.  Mark,  chap.  i.  verse  1. — "The  begin- 


THE   PROPHECIES.  191 

ning  of  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God — As  it  is 
written  in  the  prophets,  Behold  I  send  my  messenger  before  thy 
face,  which  shall  prepare  the  way  before  thee."  Malachi,  chap, 
iii.  verse  1.  The  passage  in  the  original  is  in  the  first  person. 
Mark  makes  this  passage  to  be  a  prophecy  of  John  the  Baptist, 
said  by  the  Church  to  be  a  forerunner  of  Jesus  Christ.  But  if 
we  attend  to  the  verses  that  follow  this  expression,  as  it  stands 
in  Malachi,  and  to  the  first  and  fifth  verses  of  the  next  chapter, 
we  shall  see  that  this  application  of  it  is  erroneous  and  false. 

Malachi  having  said,  at  the  first  verse,  "  Behold  I  will  send 
my  messenger,  and  he  shall  prepare  the  way  before  me,"  says, 
at  the  second  verse,  "  But  who  may  abide  the  day  of  his  com- 
ing ?  and  who  shall  stand  when  he  appeareth  1  for  he  is  like  a 
refiner's  fire,  and  like  fuller's  soap." 

This  description  can  have  no  reference  to  the  birth  of  Jesus 
Christ,  and  consequently  none  to  John  the  Baptist.  It  is  a 
scene  of  fear  and  terror  that  is  here  described,  and  the  birth  of 
Christ  is  always  spoken  of  as  a  time  of  joy  and  glad  tidings. 

Malachi,  continuing  to  speak  on  the  same  subject,  explains 
in  the  next  chapter  what  the  scene  is  of  which  he  speaks  in  the 
verses  above  quoted,  and  whom  the  person  is  whom  he  calls  the 
messenger. 

"Behold,"  says  he,  chap.  iv.  vei'se  1,  "the  day  cometh  that 
shall  burn  like  an  oven,  and  all  the  proud,  yea,  and  all  that  do 
wickedly,  shall  be  stubble ;  and  the  day  cometh  that  shall  burn 
them  up,  said  the  Lord  of  hosts,  that  it  shall  leave  them  neither 
root  nor  branch." 

Verse  5.  "  Behold  I  will  send  you  Elijah  the  prophet  before 
the  coming  of  the  great  and  dreadful  day  of  the  Lord." 

By  what  right,  or  by  what  imposition  or  ignorance  Mark  has 
made  Elijah  into  John  the  Baptist,  and  Malachi's  description , 
of  the  day  of  judgment  into  the  birthday  of  Christ,  I  leave  to! 
the  Bishop  to  settle. 

Mark,  in  the  second  and  third  verses  of  his  first  chapter, 
confounds  two  passages  together,  taken  from  different  books  of 
the  Old  Testament.  The  second  verse,  "Behold  I  send  my 
messenger  before  thy  face,  which  shall  prepare  the  way  before 
me,"  is  taken,  as  I  have  said  before,  from  Malachi.  The  third 
verse,  which  says,  "  The  voice  of  one  crying  in  the  wilderness, 
prepare  ye  the  way  of  the  Lord,  make  his  path  straight,"  is  not 
in  Malachi,  but  in  Isaiah,  chap.  xi.  verse  3.  Whiston  says 
that  both  of  these  verses  were  originally  in  Isaiah,  If  so,  it  is 


192  EXAMINATION   OF 

another  instance  of  the  disordered  state  of  the  Bible,  and  cor- 
roborates what  I  have  said  with  respect  to  the  name  and 
description  of  Cyrus  being  in  the  book  of  Isaiah,  to  which  it 
cannot  chronologically  belong. 

The  words  in  Isaiah,  chap.  xl.  verse  3,  "  The  voice  of  him 
that  crieth  in  the  wilderness,  prepare  ye  the  way  of  the  Lord, 
make  his  path  straight"  are  in  the  present  tense,  and  conse- 
quently not  predictive.  It  is  one  of  those  rhetorical  figures 
which  the  Old  Testament  authors  frequently  used.  That  it  is 
merely  rhetorical  and  metaphorical,  may  be  seen  at  the  6th 
verse.  "And  the  voice  said,  cry;  and  he  said,  what  shall  I 
cry?  All  flesh  is  grass."  This  is  evidently  nothing  but  a 
figure,  for  flesh  is  not  grass  otherwise  than  as  a  figure  or  meta- 
phor, where  one  thing  is  put  for  another.  Besides  which,  the 
whole  passage  is  too  general  and  declamatory  to  be  applied 
exclusively  to  any  particular  person  or  purpose. 

I  pass  on  to  the  eleventh  chapter. 

In  this  chapter,  Mark  speaks  of  Christ  riding  into  Jerusalem 
upon  a  colt,  but  he  does  not  make  it  the  accomplishment  of  a 
prophecy,  as  Matthew  has  done;  for  he  says  nothing  about  a 
prophecy.  Instead  of  which  he  goes  on  the  other  tack,  and  in 
order  to  add  new  honors  to  the  ass,  he  makes  it  to  be  a  miracle ; 
for  he  says,  ver.  2,  it  was  "a  colt  whereon  never  man  sat;" 
signifying  thereby,  that  as  the  ass  had  not  been  broken,  he  con- 
sequently was  inspired  into  good  manners,  for  we  do  not  hear 
that  he  kicked  Jesus  Christ  off.  There  is  not  a  word  about  his 
kicking  in  all  the  four  Evangelists. 

I  pass  on  from  these  feats  of  horsemanship,  performed  upon 
a  jack-ass,  to  the  15th  chapter. 

At  the  24th  verse  of  this  chapter,  Mark  speaks  of  parting 
Christ's  garments  and  casting  lots  upon  them,,  but  he  applies  no 
prophecy  to  it  as  Matthew  does.  He  rather  speaks  of  it  as  a 
thing  then  in  practice  with  executioners,  as  it  is  at  this  day. 

At  the  28th  verse  of  the  same  chapter,  Mark  speaks  of  Christ 
being  crucified  between  two  thieves ;  that,  says  he,  "  the  scrip- 
tures might  be  fulfilled  which  saith,  and  he  was  numbered  with 
the  transgressors"  The  same  thing  might  be  said  of  the  thieves. 

This  expression  is  in  Isaiah,  chap.  liii.  ver.  12 — Grotius  ap- 
plies it  to  Jeremiah.  But  the  case  has  happened  so  often  in 
the  world,  where  innocent  men  have  been  numbered  with  trans- 
gressors, and  is  still  continually  happening,  that  it  is  absurdity 
to  call  it  a  prophecy  of  any  particular  person.  All  those  whom 


THE  PROPHECIES.  193 

the  church  call  martyrs  were  numbered  wit  a  transgressors.  All 
the  honest  patriots  who  fell  upon  the  scaffold  in  France,  in  the 
time  of  Robespierre,  were  numbered  with  transgressors ;  and  if 
himself  had  not  fallen,  the  same  case,  according  to  a  note  in  his 
own  handwriting,  had  befallen  me ;  yet  I  suppose  the  bishop 
will  not  allow  that  Isaiah  was  prophesying  of  Thomas  Paine. 

These  are  all  the  passages  in  Mark  which  have  any  reference 
to  prophecies. 

Mark  concludes  his  book  by  making  Jesus  say  to  his  disci- 
ples, chap.  xvi.  ver.  15,  "Go  ye  into  all  the  world  and  preach 
the  gospel  to  every  creature ;  he  that  believeth  and  is  baptized 
shall  be  saved,  but  he  that  believeth  not  shall  be  damned  (fine 
Popish  stuff  this),  and  these  signs  shall  follow  them  that  be- 
lieve ;  in  my  name  they  shall  cast  out  devils ;  tUfey  shall  speak 
with  new  tongues  ;  they  shall  take  up  serpents,  and  if  they  drink 
any  deadly  thing  it  shall  not  hurt  them ;  they  shall  lay  hands 
on  the  sick,  and  they  shall  recover." 

Now,  the  bishop,  in  order  to  know  if  he  has  all  this  saving 
and  wonder-working  faith,  should  try  those  things  upon  him- 
self. He  should  take  a  good  dose  of  arsenic,  and  if  he  please, 
I  will  send  him  a  rattle-snake  from  America !  As  for  myself, 
as  I  believe  in  God  and  not  at  all  in  Jesus  Christ,  nor  in  the 
books  called  the  scriptures,  the  experiment  does  not  concern  me. 

I  pass  on  to  the  book  of  Luke. 

There  are  no  passages  in  Luke  called  prophecies,  excepting 
those  which  relate  to  the  passages  I  have  already  examined. 

Luke  speaks  of  Mary  being  espoused  to  Joseph,  but  he  makes 
no  references  to  the  passage  in  Isaiah,  as  Matthew  does.  He 
speaks  also  of  Jesus  riding  into  Jerusalem  upon  a  colt,  but  he 
says  nothing  about  a  prophecy.  He  speaks  of  John  the  Baptist, 
and  refers  to  the  passage  in  Isaiah  of  which  I  have  already 
spoken. 

At  the  13th  chapter,  verse  31,  he  says,  "The  same  day  there 
came  certain  of  the  Pharisees,  saying  unto  him  (Jesus)  get  thee 
out  and  depart  hence,  for  Herod  will  kill  thee — and  he  said  unto 
them,  go  ye  and  tell  that  fox,  behold  I  cast  out  devils  and  I  do 
cures  to-day  and  to-morrow,  and  the  third  day  I  shall  be  per- 
fected." 

Matthew  makes  Herod  to  die  whilst  Christ  was  a  child  in 

Egypt,  and  makes  Joseph  to  return  with  the  child  on  the  news 

of  Herod's  death,  who  had  sought  to  kill  him.     Luke  makes 

Herod  to  be  living,  and  to  seek  the  life  of  Jesus  after  Jesus 

13 


194  EXAMINATION   OF 

was  thirty  years  of  age:  for  he  says,  chap.  iii.  v.  23,  "And 
Jesus  began  to  be  about  thirty  years  of  age,  being,  as  was  sup- 
posed, the  son  of  Joseph." 

The  obscurity  in  which  the  historical  part  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment is  involved  with  respect  to  Herod,  may  afford  to  priests 
and  commentators  a  plea,  which  to  some  may  appear  plausible, 
but  to  none  satisfactory,  that  the  Herod  of  which  Matthew 
speaks,  and  the  Herod  of  which  Luke  speaks,  were  different 
persons.  Matthew  calls  Herod  a  king ;  and  Luke,  chap.  iii.  v. 
1,  calls  Herod  Tetrarch  (that  is,  Governor)  of  Galilee.  But 
there  could  be  no  such  person  as  a  king  Herod,  because  the  Jews 
and  their  country  were  under  the  dominion  of  the  Roman  Em- 
perors who  governed  them  by  Tetrarchs  or  Governors. 

Luke,  chap.'ii.  makes  Jesus  to  be  born  when  Cyrenius  was 
Governor  of  Syria,  to  which  government  Judea  was  annexed, 
and  according  to  this,  Jesus  was  not  born  in  the  time  of  Herod. 
Luke  says  nothing  about  Herod  seeking  the  life  of  Jesus  when 
he  was  born  ;  nor  of  his  destroying  the  children  under  two  years 
old  ;  nor  of  Joseph  fleeing  with  Jesus  into  Egypt :  nor  of  his 
returning  from  thence.  On  the  contrary,  the  book  of  Luke 
speaks  as  if  the  person  it  calls  Christ  had  never  been  out  of 
Judea,  and  that  Herod  sought  his  life  after  he  commenced 
preaching,  as  is  before  stated.  I  have  already  shown  that  Luke, 
in  the  book  called  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  (which  commenta- 
tors ascribe  to  Luke),  contradicts  the  account  in  Matthew,  with 
respect  to  Judas  and  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver.  Matthew  says, 
that  Judas  returned  the  money,  and  that  the  high  priests  bought 
with  it  a  field  to  bury  strangers  in.  Luke  says,  that  Judas  kept 
the  money,  and  bought  a  field  with  it  for  himself. 

As  it  is  impossible  the  wisdom  of  God  should  err,  so  it  is 
impossible  those  books  should  have  been  written  by  divine  in- 
spiration. Our  belief  in  God,  and  his  unerring  wisdom,  forbids 
us  to  believe  it.  As  for  myself,  I  feel  religiously  happy  in  the 
total  disbelief  of  it. 

There  are  no  other  passages  called  prophecies  in  Luke  than 
those  I  have  spoken  of.  I  pass  on  to  the  book  of  John. 

THE  BOOK  OF  JOHN. 

JOHN,  like  Mark  and  Luke,  is  not  much  of  a  prophecy- 
monger.  He  speaks  of  the  ass,  and  the  casting  lots  for  Jesus' 
clothes,  and  some  other  trifles,  of  which  I  have  already  spoken. 


THE  PROPHECIES.  195 

John  makes  Jesus  to  say,  chap.  v.  ver.  46,. "For  had  ye  Re- 
lieved Moses,  ye  would  have  believed  me,  for  he  wrote  of  me." 
The  book  of  the  Acts,  in  speaking  of  Jesus,  says,  chap.  iii.  ver. 
22,  "For  Moses  truly  said  unto  the  fathers,  a  prophet  shall  the 
Lord  your  God  raise  up  unto  you,  of  your  brethren,  like  unto 
me,  him  shall  ye  hear  in  all  things  whatsoever  he  shall  say  unto 
you." 

This  passage  is  in  Deuteronomy,  chap,  xviii.  ver.  15.  They 
apply  it  as  a  prophecy  of  Jesus.  What  imposition  !  The  per- 
son spoken  of  in  Deuteronomy,  and  also  in  Numbers,  wiiere 
the  same  person  is  spoken  of,  is  Joshua,  the  minister  of  Moses, 
and  his  immediate  successor,  and  just  such  another  Robespier- 
rean  character  as  Moses  is  represented  to  have  been.  The  case, 
as  related  in  those  books,  is  as  follows  : — 

Moses  was  grown  old  and  near  to  his  end,  and  in  order  to 
prevent  confusion  after  his  death,  for  the  Israelites  had  no  set- 
tled system  of  government,  it  was  thought  best  to  nominate  a 
successor  to  Moses  while  he  was  yet  living.  This  was  done,  as 
we  are  told,  in  the  following  manner : 

Numbers,  chap,  xxvii.  ver.  12.  "And  the  Lord  said  unto 
Moses,  get  thee  up  into  this  mount  Abarim,  and  see  tlie  land 
which  I  have  given  unto  the  children  of  Israel — and  when  thou 
hast  seen  it,  thou  also  shalt  be  gathered  unto  thy  people,  as 
Aaron  thy  brother  is  gathered,  ver.  15,  And  Moses  spake  unto 
the  Lord,  saying,  Let  the  Lord,  the  God  of  the  spirits  of  all 
flesh,  set  a  man  over  the  congregation — Which  may  go  out  be- 
fore them,  and  which  may  go  in  before  them,  and  which  may 
lead  them  out,  and  which  may  bring  them  in.  that  the  congre- 
gation of  the  Lord  be  not  as  sheep  that  have  no  shepherd — 
And  the  Lord  said  unto  Moses,  take  thee  Joshua,  the  son  of 
Nun,  a  man  in  whom  is  the  spirit,  and  lay  thine  hand  upon 
him — and  set  him  before  Eleazar,  the  priest,  and  before  all  the 
congregation,  and  give  him  a  charge  in  their  sight — and  thou 
shalt  put  some  of  thine  honor  upon  him,  that  all  the  congre- 
gation of  the  children  of  Israel  may  be  obedient — ver.  22,  and 
Moses  did  as  the  Lord  commanded,  and  he  took  Joshua,  and  set 
him  before  Eleazar  the  priest,  and  before  all  the  congregation ; 
and  he  laid  hands  upon  him,  and  gave  him  charge  as  the  Lord 
commanded  by  the  hand  of  Moses." 

I  have  nothing  to  do,  in  this  place,  with  the  truth,  or  the 
conjuration  here  practised,  of  raising  up  a  successor  to  Moses 
like  unto  himself.  The  passage  sufficiently  proves  it  is  Josliup, 


196  EXAMINATION  OF 

and  that  it  is  an  imposition  in  John  to  make  the  case  into  ft 
prophecy  of  Jesus.  But  the  prophecy-mongers  were  so  inspired 
with  falsehood,  that  they  never  speak  truth.* 

I  pass  to  the  last  passage  in  these  fables  of  the  Evangelists 
called  a  prophecy  of  Jesus  Christ. 

John,  having  spoken  of  Jesus  expiring  on  the  cross  between 
two  thieves,  says,  chap.  xix.  verse  32,  "  Then  came  the  soldiers 
and  brake  the  legs  of  the  first  (meaning  one  of  the  thieves)  and 
of  the  other  which  was  crucified  with  him  But  when  they  came 
to  Jesus,  and  saw  that  he  was  dead  already,  they  brake  not  his 
legs — verse  36,  for  these  things  were  done  that  the  Scriptures- 
should  be  fulfilled,  A  bone  of  him  shall  not  be  broken." 

The  passage  here  referred  to  is  in  Exodus,  and  has  no  more 
to  do  with  Jesus  than  with  the  ass  he  rode  upon  to  Jerusalem ; 
— nor  yet  so  much,  if  a  roasted  jack-ass,  like  a  roasted  he-goat, 
might  be  eaten  at  a  Jewish  passover.  It  might  be  some  con- 
solation to  an  ass  to  know  that  though  his  bones  might  be  picked 
they  would  not  be  broken.  I  go  to  state  the  case. 

•  Newton,  Bishop  of  Bristol  in  England,  published  a  work  in  three  vol- 
mes,  entitled.  "Dissertations  on  the  Prophecii 


written  and  tiresome  to  read.  He  strains  hard  to  make  every  passage  into 
a  prophecy  that  suits  his  purpose — Among  others,  he  makes  this  expression 
of  Moses,  "the  Lord  shall  raise  thee  up  a  prophet  like  unto  me,"  into  a  pro- 


phecies." The  work  is  tediously 
hard  to  make  every  passage  into 
g  others,  he  makes  this  expression 
prophet  like  unto  me,"  into  a  pro- 
phecy of  Christ,  who  was  not  born,  according  to  the  Bible  chronologies,  till 
fifteen  hundred  and  fifty-two  years  after  the  time  of  Moses,  whereas  it  was 
an  immediate  successor  to  Moses,  who  was  then  near  his  end,  that  is  spokea 
of  in  the  passage  above  quoted. 

This  Bishop,  the  better  to  impose  this  passage  on  the  world  as  a  prophecy 
of  Christ,  has  entirely  omitted  the  account  in  the  book  of  Numbers  which  I 
have  given  at  length,  word  for  word,  and  which  shows,  beyond  the  possi- 
bility of  a  doubt,  that  the  person  spoken  of  by  Moses,  is  Joshua,  and  no 
other  person. 

Newton  is  but  a  superficial  writer.  He  takes  up  things  upon  hearsay,  and 
inserts  them  without  either  examination  or  reflection,  and  the  more  extra- 
ordinary and  incredible  they  are,  the  better  he  likes  them. 

In  speaking  of  the  walls  of  Babylon  (volume  the  first,  page  263),  he 
makes  a  quotation  from  a  traveller  of  the  name  of  Tavernur,  whom  he  call* 
(by  way  of  giving  credit  to  what  he  says),  a  celebrated  traveller,  that  those 
walls  were  made  of  burnt  brick,  ten  feet  square  and  three  feet  thick.  If  New  ton 
had  only  thought  of  calculating  the  weight  of  such  a  brick,  he  would  have 
seen  the  impossibility  of  their  being  used  or  even  made.  A  brick  ten  feet 
square,  and  three  feet  thick,  contains  three  hundred  cubic  feet,  and  allow- 
ing a  cubic  foot  of  brick  to  be  only  one  hundred  pounds,  each  of  the  Bishop'* 
bricks  would  weigh  thirty  thousand  pounds  ;  and  it  would  take  auout  thirty 
cart  loads  of  clay  (one-horse  carts)  to  make  one  brick. 

But  his  account  of  the  stones  used  in  the  building  of  Solomon's  temple, 
(volume  2nd,  page  211),  far  exceeds  his  bricks  of  ten  feet  square  in  the  wall* 
of  Habylon  ;  these  are  but  brick-bats  compared  to  them. 

The  »t»ne»  (days  he)  employed  in  the  foiuiuatiou,  were  in  magnitude  forty 


THE  PROPHECIES.  197 

The  book  of  Exodus,  in  instituting  the  Jewish  passover,  in 
which  they  were  to  eat  a  he-lamb  or  a  he-goat,  says,  chap  xii. 
verse  5,  "  Your  lamb  shall  be  without  blemish,  a  male  of  the 
first  year:  ye  shall  take  it  from  the  sheep  or  from  the  goats." 

The  book,  after  stating  some  ceremonies  to  be  used  in  killing 
and  dressing  it  (for  it  was  to  be  roasted,  not  boiled),  says,  ver. 
43,  "  And  the  Lord  said  unto  Moses  and  Aaron,  this  is  the 
ordinance  of  the  passover :  there  shall  no  stranger  eat  thereof ; 
but  every  man's  servant  that  is  bought  for  money,  when  thou 
hast  circumcised  him,  then  shall  he  eat  thereof.  A  foreigner 
shall  not  eat  thereof.  In  one  house  shall  it  be  eaten ;  thou  saalt 
not  carry  forth  ought  of  the  flesh  thereof  abroad  out  of  the  house; 
neither  shalt  thou  break  a  bone  thereof." 

We  here  see  that  the  case  as  it  stands  in  Exodus  is  a  cere- 
mony and  not  a  prophecy,  and  totally  unconnected  with  Jesus' 
bones,  or  any  part  of  him. 

John,  having  thus  filled  up  the  measure  of  apostolic  fable, 


cubits,  that  is,  above  sixty  feet,  a  cubit,  says  he,  being  somewhat  more  than 
one  foot  and  a  half  (a  cubit  is  one  foot  nine  inches,/,  and  the  superstructure 
(says  this  Bishop)  was  worthy  of  such  foundations.  There  were  some 
stones,  says  he,  of  the  whitest  marble,  forty-five  cubits  long;,  five  cubits  high, 
and  six  cubits  broad.  These  are  the  dimensions  this  Bishop  has  given, 
which  in  measure  of  twelve  inches  to  a  foot,  is  78  feet  9  inches  long,  ll> 
feet  6  inches  broad,  and  8  feet  3  inches  thick,  and  contains  7,2o4  cubic 
feet.  I  now  go  to  demonstrate  the  imposition  of  this  Bishop. 

A  cubic  foot  of  water  weighs  sixty-two  pounds  and  a  half.  The  specific 
gravity  of  marble  to  water  is  as  2  1-2  is  to  one.  The  weight,  therefore,  of  a 
cubic  foot  of  marble  is  556  pounds,  which,  multiplied  by  7,234,  the  number 
of  cubic  feet  in  one  of  these  stones,  makes  the  weight  of  it  to  be  1,128,504 
pounds,  which  is  503  tons.  Allowing  then  a  horse  to  draw  about  half  a  ton, 
it  will  require  a  thousand  horses  to  araw  one  such  stone  on  the  ground  ;  how 
then  were  they  to  be  lifted  into  the  building  by  human  hands  ? 

The  Bishop  may  talk  of  faith  removing  mountains,  but  all  the  faith  of  all 
the  Bishops  that  ever  lived  could  not  remove  one  of  those  stones  and  their 
bodily  strength  given  in. 

The  Bishop  also  tells  of  yreat  guns  used  by  the  Turks  at  the  taking  of  Con- 
stantino~>le,  one  of  which,  he  says,  was  drawn  by  seventy  yoke  of  oxen,  and 
by  two  tnousand  men.  Vol.  3rd,  page  117. 

The  weight  of  a  cannon  that  carries  a  ball  of  43  pounds,  which  is  the 
largest  cannon  that  are  cast,  weighs  8,000  pounds,  about  three  tons  and  a 
half,  and  may  be  drawn  by  three  yoice  of  oxen.  Anybody  may  now  calcu- 
late what  the  weight  of  the  Bishop's  great  gun  must  be,  that  required 
seventy  yoke  of  oxen  to  draw  it.  This  Bishop  beats  Gulliver. 

When  men  give  up  the  use  of  the  divine  gift  of  reason  in  writing  on  any 
subject,  be  it  religious  or  anything  else,  thsre  are  no  bounds  to  their  extra- 
vagance, no  limit  to  their  absurdities. 

The  three  volumes  which  this  Bishop  has  written  on  what  he  calls  the  pro- 
phecies, contain  above  1,21JO  pages,  and  he  says  in  voL  3,  pa?e  117,  "  I  Itave 
ttvMied  brevity."  This  is  as  marvellous  as  the  Bishop's  great  gun. 


198  EXAMINATION   OF 

concludes  his  book  with  something  that  beats  all  fable  ;  for  he 
says  at  the  last  verse,  "  And  there  are  also  many  other  things 
which  Jesus  did,  the  which  if  they  could  be  written  every  one, 
1  suppose  that  even  the  world  itself  could  not  contain  the  books 
that  should  be  written." 

This  is  what  in  vulgar  life  is  called  a  thumper/  that  is,  not 
only  a  lie,  but  a  lie  upon  the  line  of  possibility ;  besides  which  it 
is  an  absurdity,  for  if  they  should  be  written  in  the  world,  the 
world  would  contain  them. — Here  ends  the  examination  of  thy 
passages  called  prophecies. 


I  HAVE  now,  reader,  gone  through  and  examined  all  the  pass- 
ages which  the  four  books  of  Matthew,  .Mark,  Luke,  and  John, 
quote  from  the  Old  Testamemt  and  call  them  prophecies  of  Jesus 
Christ.  When  I  first  sat  down  to  this  examination,  I  expected 
to  find  cause  for  some  censure,  but  little  did  I  expect  to  find 
them  so  utterly  destitute  of  truth,  and  of  all  pretensions  to  it,  as 
I  have  shown  them  to  be. 

The  practice  which  the  writers  of  those  books  employ  is  not 
more  false  than  it  is  absurd.  They  state  some  trifling  case  of 
the  person  they  call  Jesus  Christ,  and  then  cut  out  a  sentence 
from  some  passage  of  the  Old  Testament  and  call  it  a  prophecy 
of  that  case.  But  when  the  words  thus  cut  OL  t  are  restored  to 
the  place  they  are  taken  from,  and  read  with  the  words  before 
and  after  them,  they  give  the  lie  to  the  New  Testament.  A 
short  instance  or  two  of  this  will  suffice  for  the  whole. 

They  make  Joseph  to  dream  of  an  angel,  who  informs  him 
that  Herod  is  dead,  and  tells  him  to  come  with  the  child  out  of 
Egypt.  They  then  cut  out  a  sentence  from  the  book  of  Hosea, 
"Out  of  Egypt  have  1  catted  my  &on"  and  apply  it  as  a  prophecy 
in  that  case. 

The  words  "And  called  my  Son  out  of  Egypt"  are  in  the 
Bible ; — but  what  of  that  ?  They  are  only  part  of  a  passage, 
and  not  a  whole  passage,  and  stand  immediately  connected  with 
other  words,  which  show  they  refer  to  the  children  of  Israel 
coming  out  of  Egypt  in  the  time  of  Pharaoh,  and  to  the  idol- 
atry they  committed  afterwards. 

Again,  they  tell  us  that  when  the  soldiers  came  to  break  the 
legs  of  the  crucified  persons,  they  found  Jesus  was  already 
dead,  and,  therefore,  did  not  break  his  They  then,  with  some 
alteration  or  the  original,  cut  out  a  sentence  from  Exodus,  "  a 


THE  PROPHECIES.  199 

bone  of  him  shall  not  be  broken,"  and  apply  it  as  a  prophecy  of 
that  case. 

The  words  "Neither  shall  ye  break  a  bone  thereof,"  (for  they 
have  altered  the  text,)  are  in  the  Bible — but  what  of  that? 
They  are,  as  in  the  former  case,  only  part  of  a  passage,  and  not 
a  whole  passage,  and  when  read  with  the  words  they  are  im- 
mediately joined  to,  show  it  is  the  bones  of  a  he-lanib  or  a  he- 
goat  of  which  the  passage  speaks. 

These  repeated  forgeries  and  falsifications  create  a  well- 
founded  suspicion,  that  all  the  cases  spoken  of  concerning  the 
person  called  Jesus  Christ  are  made  cases,  on  purpose  to  lug  in, 
and  that  very  clumsily,  some  broken  sentences  from  the  Old 
Testament,  and  apply  them  as  prophecies  of  those  cases;  and 
that  so  fur  from  his  being  the  Son  of  God,  he  did  not  exist 
even  as  a  man — that  he  is  merely  an  imaginary  or  allegorical 
character,  as  Apollo,  as  Hercules,  Jupiter,  and  all  the  deities 
of  antiquity  were.  There  is  no  history  written  at  the  time 
Jesus  Christ  is  said  to  have  lived  that  speaks  of  the  existence 
of  such  a  person,  even  as  a  man. 

Did  we  find  in  any  other  book  pretending  to  give  a  system 
of  religion,  the  falsehoods,  falsifications,  contradictions,  and 
absurdities,  which  are  to  be  met  with  in  almost  e.very  page  of 
the  Old  and  New  Testament,  all  the  priests  of  the  present  day 
who  supposed  themselves  capable,  would  triumphantly  show 
their  skill  in  criticism,  and  cry  it  down  as  a  most  glaring  im- 
position. But  since  the  books  in  question  belong  to  their  own 
trade  and  profession,  they,  or  at  least  many  of  them,  seek  to 
stifle  every  inquiry  into  them,  and  abuse  those  who  have  the 
honesty  and  the  courage  to  do  it. 

When  a  book,  as  is  the  case  with  the  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ment, is  ushered  into  the  world  under  the  title  of  being  the 
WORD  OP  GOD,  it  ought  to  be  examined  with  the  utmost  strict- 
ness, in  order  to  know  if  it  has  a  well-founded  claim  to  that 
title  or  not,  and  whether  we  are  or  are  not  imposed  upon:  for 
as  no  poison  is  so  dangerous  as  that  which  poisons  the  physic, 
so  no  falsehood  is  so  fatal  as  that  which  is  made  an  article  of 
faith. 

This  examination  becomes  more  necessary,  because  when  the 
New  Testament  was  written,  I  might  say  invented,  the  art  of 
printing  was  not  known,  and  there  were  no  other  copies  of  the 
Old  Testament  than  written  copies.  A  written  copy  of  that 
book  would  cost  about  as  much  as  six  hundred  common  printed 


200  EXAMINATION   OF 

bibles  now  cost;  consequently  was  in  the  hands  of  very  few 
persons,  and  these  chiefly  of  the  church.  This  gave  an  oppor- 
tunity to  the  writers  of  the  New  Testament  to  make  quotations 
from  the  Old  Testament  as  they  pleased,  and  call  them  prophe- 
cies, with  very  little  clanger  of  being  detected.  Besides  which, 
the  terrors  and  inquisitorial  fury  of  the  church,  like  what  they 
tell  us  of  the  flaming  sword  that  turned  every  way,  stood 
sentry  over  the  New  Testament;  and  time,  which  brings  every- 
thing else  to  light,  has  served  to  thicken  the  darkness  that 
guards  it  from  detection. 

Were  the  New  Testament  now  to  appear  for  the  first  time, 
every  priest  of  the  present  day  would  examine  it  line  by  line, 
and  compare  the  detached  sentences  it  calls  prophecies  with  the 
whole  passages  in  the  Old  Testament  from  whence  they  are 
taken.  Why  then  do  they  not  make  the  same  examination  at 
this  time,  as  they  would  make  had  the  New  Testament  never 
appeared  before  ?  If  it  be  proper  and  right  to  make  it  in  one 
case,  it  is  equally  proper  and  right  to  do  it  in  the  other  case. 
Length  of  time  can  make  no  difference  in  the  right  to  do  it  at 
any  time.  But,  instead  of  doing  this,  they  go  on  as  their 
predecessors  went  on  before  them,  to  tell  the  people  there  are 
prophecies  of  Jesus  Christ,  when  the  truth  is  there  are  none. 

They  tell  us  that  Jesus  rose  from  the  dead,  and  ascended  into 
heaven.  It  is  very  easy  to  say  so;  a  great  lie  is  as  easily  told 
as  a  little  one.  But  if  he  had  done  so,  those  would  have  been 
the  only  circumstances  respecting  him  that  would  have  differed 
from  the  common  lot  of  man;  and,  consequently,  the  only  case 
that  would  apply  exclusively  to  him,  as  prophecy,  would  be 
some  passage  in  the  Old  Testament  that  foretold  such  things  of 
him.  But  there  is  not  a  passage  in  the  Old  Testament  that 
speaks  of  a  person,  who,  after  being  crucified,  dead,  and  buried, 
should  rise  from  the  dead,  and  ascend  into  heaven.  Our 
prophecy-mongers  supply  the  silence  the  Old  Testament  guards 
upon  such  things,  by  telling  us  of  passages  they  call  prophecies, 
and  that  falsely  so,  about  Joseph's  dream,  old  clothes,  broken 
bones,  and  such  like  trifling  stuff. 

In  writing  upon  this,  as  upon  every  other  subject,  I  speak  a 
language  full  and  intelligible.  I  deal  not  in  hints  and  intima- 
tions. I  have  several  reasons  for  this:  First,  that  I  may  be 
clearly  understood.  Secondly,  that  it  may  be  seen  I  am  in 
earnest.  And  thirdly,  because  it  is  an  affront  to  truth  to  treat 
falsehood  with  complaisance. 


THE  PROPHECIES.  201 

I  will  close  this  treatise  with  a  subject  I  have  already  touched 
upon  in  the  First  Part  of  the  "Age  of  Reason." 

The  world  has  been  amused  with  the  term  revealed  religion, 
and  the  generality  of  priests  apply  this  term  to  the  books  called 
the  Old  and  New  Testament.  The  Mahometans  apply  the 
same  term  to  the  Koran.  There  is  no  man  that  believes  in 
revealed  religion  stronger  than  I  do;  but  it  is  not  the  reveries 
of  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  nor  of  the  Koran,  that  I  dignify 
with  that  sacred  title.  That  which  is  revelation  to  me,  exists 
in  something  which  no  human  mind  can  invent,  no  human  hand 
can  counterfeit  or  alter. 

The  Word  of  God  is  the  Creation  we  behold ;  and  this  word 
of  God  revealeth  to  man  all  that  is  necessary  for  man  to  know 
of  his  Creator. 

Do  we  want  to  contemplate  his  power?  We  see  it  in  the 
immensity  of  his  creation. 

Do  we  want  to  contemplate  his  wisdom?  We  see  it  in  the 
unchangeable  order  by  which  the  incomprehensible  whole  is 
governed. 

Do  we  want  to  contemplate  his  munificence?  We  see  it  in 
the  abundance  with  which  he  fills  the  earth. 

Do  we  want  to  contemplate  his  mercy?  We  see  it  in  his  not 
withholding  that  abundance,  even  from  the  unthankful 

Do  we  want  to  contemplate  his  will,  so  far  as  it  respects 
man?  The  goodness  he  shows  to  all,  is  a  lesson  foF  our  conduct 
to  each  other. 

In  fine — Do  we  want  to  know  what  God  is?  Search  not  the 
book  called  the  Scripture,  which  any  human  hand  might  make, 
or  any  impostor  invent;  but  the  scripture  called  the  Creation. 

When,  in  the  first  part  of  the  "Age  of  Reason,"  I  called  the 
Creation  the  true  revelation  of  God  to  man,  I  did  not  know 
that  any  other  person  had  expressed  the  same  idea.  But  I 
lately  met  with  the  writings  of  Doctor  Conyers  Middleton, 
published  the  beginning  of  last  century,  in  which  he  expresses 
himself  in  the  same  manner  with  respect  to  the  Creation  as  I 
have  done  in  the  "Age  of  Reason." 

He  was  principal  librarian  of  the  University  of  Cambridge, 
in  England,  which  furnished  him  with  extensive  opportunities 
of  reading,  and  necessarily  required  he  should  be  well  acquaint- 
ed with  the  dead  as  well  as  the  living  languages.  He  was  a 
man  of  a  strong  original  mind ;  had  the  courage  to  think  for 
himself,  and  the  honesty  to  speak  his  thoughts. 


202  EXAMINATION  OF 

He  made  a  journey  to  Kome,  from  whence  he  wrote  letters 
to  show  that  the  forms  and  ceremonies  of  the  Romish  Christian 
Church  were  taken  from  the  degenerate  state  of  the  heathen 
mythology,  as  it  stood  in  the  latter  times  of  the  Greeks  and 
Romans.  He  attacked  without  ceremony  the  miracles  which 
the  Church  pretend  to  perform :  and  in  one  of  his  treatises,  he- 
calls  the  creation  a  revelation.  The  priests  of  England  of  that 
day,  in  order  to  defend  their  citadel  by  first  defending  its  out- 
works, attacked  him  for  attacking  the  Roman  ceremonies;  and 
one  of  them  censures  him  for  calling  the  creation  a  revelation — 
he  thus  replies  to  him: 

"One  of  them,"  says  he,  "appears  to  be  scandalized  by  the 
title  of  revelation  which  I  have  given  to  that  discovery  which 
God  made  of  himself  in  the  visible  works  of  his  creation.  Yet 
it  is  no  other  than  what  the  wise  in  all  ages  have  given  to  it, 
who  consider  it  as  the  most  authentic  and  indisputable  reve- 
lation which  God  has  ever  given  of  himself,  from  the  beginning 
of  the  world  to  this  day.  It  was,this  by  which  the  first  notice 
of  him  was  revealed  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth,  and  by 
which  alone  it  has  been  kept  up  ever  since  among  the  several 
nations  of  it.  From  this  the  reason  of  man  was  enabled  to- 
trace  out  his  nature  and  attributes,  and  by  a  gradual  deduction 
of  consequences,  to  learn  his  own  nature  also,  with  all  the 
duties  belonging  to  it,  which  relate  either  to  God  or  to  his 
fellow-creatures.  This  constitution  of  things  was  ordained  by 
God,  as  an  universal  law,  or  rule  of  conduct  to  man — the 
source  of  all  his  knowledge — the  test  of  all  truth,  by  which  all 
subsequent  revelations  which  are  supposed  to  have  been  given 
by  God  in  any  other  manner,  must  be  tried,  and  cannot  be 
received  as  divine  any  further  than  as  they  are  found  to  tally 
and  coincide  with  this  original  standard. 

"  It  was  this  divine  law  which  I  referred  to  in  the  passage 
above  recited  (meaning  the  passage  on  which  they  had  attacked 
him),  being  desirous  to  excite  the  reader's  attention  to  it,  as  it 
would  enable  him  to  judge  more  freely  of  the  argument  I  was 
handling.  For,  by  contemplating  this  law,  he  would  discover 
the  genuine  way  which  God  himself  has  marked  out  to  us  for 
the  acquisition  of  true  knowledge  ;  not  from  the  authority  or 
reports  of  our  fellow-creatures,  but  from  the  information  of  the 
facts  and  material  objects  which  in  his  providential  distribution 
of  wordly  things,  he  hath  presented  to  the  perpetual  observation 
of  our  senses.  For  as  it  was  from  these  that  his  existence  and 


THE   PROPHECIES.  203 

nature,  the  most  important  articles  of  all  knowledge,  were  first 
discovered  to  man,  so  that  grand  discovery  furnished  new  light 
towards  tracing  out  the  rest,  and  made  all  the  inferior  subjects 
of  human  knowledge  more  easy  discoverable  to  us  by  the  same 
method. 

"  I  had  another  view  likewise  in  the  same  passage,  and  ap- 
plicable to  the  same  end,  of  giving  the  reader  a  more  enlarged 
notion  of  the  question  in  dispute,  who,  by  turning  his  thoughts 
to  reflect  on  the  works  of  the  Creator,  as  they  are  manifested  to 
us  in  this  fabric  of  the  world,  could  not  fail  to  observe  that  they 
are  all  of  them  great,  noble,  and  suitable  to  the  majesty  of  his 
nature,  carrying  with  them  the  proofs  of  their  origin,  and  show- 
ing themselves  to  be  the  production  of  an  all-wise  and  Almighty 
being ;  and  by  accustoming  his  mind  to  these  sublime  reflec- 
tions, he  will  be  prepared  to  determine  whether  those  miracu- 
lous interpositions  so  confidently  affirmed  to  us  by  the  primitive 
fathers,  can  reasonably  be  thought  to  make  part  in  the  grand 
scheme  of  the  divine  administration,  or  whether  it  be  agreeable 
that  God,  who  created  all  things  by  his  will,  and  can  give  what 
turn  to  them  he  pleases  by  the  same  will,  should,  for  the  par- 
ticular purposes  of  his  government  and  the  services  of  his 
church,  descend  to  the  expedient  of  visions  and  revelations, 
granted  sometimes  to  boys  for  the  instruction  of  the  elders, 
and  sometimes  to  women  to  settle  the  fashion  and  length  of 
their  veils,  and  sometimes  to  pastors  of  the  Church,  to  enjoin 
them  to  ordain  one  man  a  lecturer,  another  a  priest ; — or  that 
he  should  scatter  a  profusion  of  miracles  around  the  stake  of  a 
martyr,  yet  all  of  them  vain  and  insignificant,  and  without  any 
sensible  effect,  either  of  preserving  the  life  or  easing  the  suffer- 
ings of  the  saint ;  or  even  of  mortifying  his  persecutors,  who 
were  always  left  to  enjoy  the  full  triumph  of  their  cruelty,  and 
the  poor  martyr  to  expire  in  a  miserable  death.  When  these 
things,  I  say,  are  brought  to  the  original  test,  and  compared 
with  the  genuine  and  indisputable  works  of  the  Creator,  how 
minute,  how  trifling,  how  contemptible  must  they  be? — and  how 
incredible  must  it  be  thought,  that  for  the  instruction  of  his 
church,  God  should  employ  ministers  so  precarious,  unsatisfac- 
tory, and  inadequate  as  the  ecstacies  of  women  and  boys,  and  the 
visions  of  interested  priests,  which  were  derided  at  the  very 
time  by  men  of  sense  to  whom  they  were  proposed. 

"That  this  universal  law  (continues  Middleton,  meaning  the 
law  revealed  in  the  works  of  the  creation)  was  actually  revealed 


204  EXAMINATION   OF 

to  the  heathen  world  long  before  the  gospel  was  known,  we 
learn  from  all  the  principal  sages  of  antiquity,  who  made  it  the 
capital  subject  of  their  studies  and  writings. 

"  Cicero  has  given  us  a  short  abstract  of  it  in  a  fragment  still 
remaining  from  one  of  his  books  on  government,  which  I  shall 
here  transcribe  in  his  own  words,  as  they  will  illustrate  my 
sense  also,  in  the  passages  that  appear  so  dark  and  dangerous 
to  my  antagonists." 

"The  true  law  (says  Cicero)  is  right  reason  conformable  to 
the  nature  of  things,  constant,  eternal,  diffused  through  all, 
which  calls  us  to  duty  by  commanding — deters  us  from  sin  by 
forbidding;  which  never  loses  its  influence'  with  the  good,  nor 
never  preserves  it  with  the  wicked.  This  law  cannot  be  over- 
ruled by  any  other,  nor  abrogated  in  whole  or  in  part ;  nor  can 
we  be  absolved  from  it  either  by  the  senate  or  by  the  people  ; 
nor  are  we  to  seek  any  other  comment  or  interpreter  of  it  but 
himself;  nor  can  there  be  one  law  at  Rome  and  another  at 
Athens — one  now  and  another  hereafter  :  but  the  same  eternal 
immutable  law  comprehends  all  nations  at  all  times,  under  one 
common  master  and  governor  of  all — GOD.  He  is  the  inventor, 
propounder,  enacter,  of  this  law  ;  and  whoever  will  not  obey  it 
must  first  renounce  himself  and  throw  off  the  nature  of  man  ; 
by  doing  which  he  will  suffer  the  greatest  punishments,  though 
he  should  escape  all  the  other  torments  which  are  commonly 
believed  to  be  prepared  for  the  wicked."  Here  ends  the  quota- 
tion from  Cicero. 

"  Our  Doctors  (continues  Middleton)  perhaps  will  look  on 
this  as  RANK  DEISM  ;  but  let  them  call  it  what  they  will  I  shall 
ever  avow  and  defend  it  as  the  fundamental,  essential,  and  vital 
part  of  all  true  religion,"  Here  ends  the  quotation  from 
Middleton." 

I  have  here  given  the  reader  two  sublime  extracts  from  men 
who  lived  in  ages  of  time  far  remote  from  each  other,  but  who 
thought  alike.  Cicero  lived  before  the  time  in  which  they  tell 
us  Christ  was  born.  Middleton  may  be  called  a  man  of  our 
own  time,  as  he  lived  within  the  same  century  with  ourselves. 

In  Cicero  we  see  that  vast  superiority  of  mind,  that  sublimity 
of  riflrht  reasoning  and  justness  of  ideas  which  man  acquires,  not 
by  studying  Bibles  and  Testaments  and  the  theology  of  schools 
built  thereon,  but  by  studying  the  Creator  in  the  immensity 
and  uactuingeable  order  of  his  creation  and  the  immutability  of 
his  law.  "  There  cannot"  says  Cicero,  "  be  one  law  now,  and 


THE  PROPHECIES.  205 

•another  hereafter  ;  but  the  same  eternal  immutable  law  compre- 
hends all  nations,  at  all  times,  under  one  common  master  and 
governor  of  all — GOD."  But  according  to  the  doctrines  of 
schools  which  priests  have  set  up,  we  see  one  law  called  the 
Old  Testament,  givren  in  one  age  of  the  world,  and  other  law, 
called  the  New  Testament,  given  in  another  age  of  the  world. 
As  all  this  is  contradictory  to  the  eternal  immutable  nature, 
and  the  unerring  and  unchangeable  wisdom  of  God,  we  must  be 
compelled  to  hold  this  doctrine  to  be  false,  and  the  old  and  the 
new  law,  called  the  Old  and  the  New  Testament,  to  be  imposi- 
tions, fables  and  forgeries. 

In  Middleton,  we  see  the  manly  eloquence  of  an  enlarged 
mind  and  the  genuine  sentiments  of  a  true  believer  in  his 
Creator.  Instead  of  reposing  his  faith  on  books,  by  whatever 
name  they  may  be  called,  whether  Old  Testament  or  New,  he 
fixes  the  creation  as  the  great  original  standard  by  which  every 
other  thing  called  the  word,  or  work  of  God,  is-  to  be  tried.  In 
this  we  have  an  indisputable  scale,  whereby  to  measure  every 
word  or  work  imputed  to  him.  If  the  thing  so  imputed,  carries 
not  in  itself  the  evidence  of  the  same  Almightiness  of  power,  of 
the  same  unerring  truth  and  wisdom,  and  the  same  unchangeable 
order  in  all  its  parts,  as  are  visibly  demonstrated  to  our  senses, 
and  incomprehensible  by  our  reason,  in  the  magnificent  fabric 
of  the  universe,  that  word  or  that  work  is  not  of  God.  Let 
then  the  two  books  called  the  Old  and  New  Testament  be 
tried  by  this  rule,  and  the  result  will  be,  that  the  authors  of 
them,  whoever  they  were,  will  be  convicted  of  forgery. 

The  invariable  principles  and  unchangeable  order  which  regu- 
late the  movements  of  all  the  parts  that  compose  the  universe, 
demonstrate  both  to  our  senses  and  our  reason  that  its  Creator 
is  a  God  of  unerring  truth.  But  the  Old  Testament,  besides 
the  numberless,  absurd,  and  bagatelle  stories  it  tells  of  God, 
represents  him  as  a  God  of  deceit,  a  God  not  to  be  confided  in. 
Ezekiel  makes  God  to  say,  chap.  14,  ver.  9,  "  And  if  the  prophet 
be  deceived  when  he  hath  spoken  a  thing,  I,  the  Lord,  hath  de- 
ceived tliat  prophet"  And  at  the  20th  chap.,  ver.  25,  he  makes 
God  in  speaking  of  the  children  of  Israel  to  say,  "  Wherefore  I 
gave  them  statutes  tliat  were  not  good,  and  judgments  by  which 
they  could  not  live." 

This,  so  far  from  being  the  word  of  God,  is  horrid  blasphemy 
-against  him.  Reader,  put  thy  confidence  in  thy  God,  and  put 
no  trust  in  the  Bible. 


206  EXAMINATION  OP 

The  same  Old  Testament,  after  telling  us  that  God  created 
the  heavens  and  the  earth  in  six  days,  makes  the  same  almighty 
power  and  eternal  wisdom  employ  itself  in  giving  directions- 
how  a  priest's  garment  should  be  cut,  and  what  sort  of  stuff 
they  should  be  made  of,  and  what  their  offerings  should  be, 
gold,  and  silver,  and  brass,  and  blue,  and  purple,  and  scarlet, 
and  fine  linen,  and  goat's  hair,  and  ram's  skins  dyed  red,  and 
badger  skins,  <kc.,  chap,  xxv.,  ver.  3 ;  and  in  one  of  the  pre- 
tended prophecies  I  have  just  examined,  God  is  made  to  give- 
directions  how  they  should  kill,  cook,  and  eat  a  he-lamb  or  a 
he-goat.  And  Ezekiel,  chap,  iv.,  to  fill  up  the  measure  of 
abominable  absurdity,  makes  God  to  order  him  to  take  wheat 
and  barley,  and  beans  and  lentiles,  and  millet,  and  fitches,  and 
make  a  loaf  or  a  cake  thereof,  and  bake  it  with  human  dung  and 
eat  it;  but  as  Ezekiel  complained  that  this  mess  was  too  strong 
for  his  stomach,  the  matter  was  compromised  from  man's  dung 
to  cow's  dung,  Ezekiel  chap.  iv.  Compare  all  this  ribaldry,, 
blasphemously  called  the  word  of  God,  with  the  Almighty 
power  that  created  the  universe,  and  whose  eternal  wisdom 
directs  and  governs  all  its  mighty  movements,  and  we  shall  be- 
at a  loss  to  find  a  name  sufficiently  contemptible  for  it. 

In  the  promises  which  the  Old  Testament  pretends  that  God 
made  to  his  people,  the  same  derogatory  ideas  of  him  prevail. 
It  makes  God  to  promise  to  Abraham  that  his  seed  should  be 
like  the  stars  in  heaven  and  the  sand  on  the  sea  shore  for 
multitude,  and  that  he  would  give  them  the  land  of  Canaan  as 
their  inheritance  for  ever.  But  observe,  reader,  how  the  per- 
formance of  this  promise  was  to  begin,  and  then  ask  thine  own 
reason,  if  the  wisdom  cf  God,  whose  power  is  equal  to  his  will, 
could  consistently  with  that  power,  and  that  wisdom,  make 
such  a  promise. 

The  performance  of  the  promise  was  to  begin,  according  to> 
chat  book,  by  four  hundred  years  of  bondage  and  affliction. 
Genesis,  chap,  xv.,  ver.  13.  "And  God  said  unto  Abraham, 
know  of  a  surety,  that  thy  seed  shall  be  a  stranger  in  a  land  that 
is  not  theirs,  and  shall  serve  them,  and  'they  sJiall  affiicl  them 
four  hundred  years"  This  promise,  then,  to  Abraham  and  his 
seed  for  ever,  to  inherit  the  land  of  Canaan,  had  it  been  a  fact 
instead  of  a  fable,  was  to  operate  in  the  commencement  of  it,  as- 
A  curse  upon  all  the  people  and  their  children,  and  their  chil- 
dren's children  for  four  hundred  years. 

But  the  case  is,  the  book  of  Genesis  was  written  after  the 


THE  PROPHECIES.  207 

bondage  in  Egypt  had  taken  place  ;  and  in  order  to  get  rid  of 
the  disgrace  of  the  Lord's  chosen  people,  as  they  called  them- 
selves, being  in  bondage  to  the  Gentiles,  they  make  God  to  be 
the  author  of  it,  and  annex  it  as  a  condition  to  a  pretended 
promise ;  as  if  God,  in  making  that  promise,  had  exceeded  his 
power  in  performing  it,  and  consequently  his  wisdom  in  making 
it,  and  was  obliged  to  compromise  with  them  for  one-half,  and 
with  the  Egyptians,  to  whom  they  were  to  be  in  bondage,  for 
the  other  half. 

Without  degrading  my  own  reason  by  bringing  those  wretched 
and  contemptible  tales  into  a  comparative  view,  with  the 
Almighty  power  and  eternal  wisdom,  which  the  Creator  had 
demonstrated  to  our  senses  in  the  creation  of  the  universe,  I 
will  confine  myself  to  say,  that  if  we  compare  them  with  the 
divine  and  forcible  sentiments  of  Cicero,  the  result  will  be  that 
the  human  mind  has  degenerated  by  believing  them.  Man  in 
a  state  of  grovelling  superstition,  from  which  he  has  not  courage 
to  rise,  loses  the  energy  of  his  mental  powers. 

I  will  not  tire  the  reader  with  more  observations  on  the  Old 
Testament. 

As  to  the  New  Testament,  if  it  be  brought  and  tried  by  that 
standard,  which,  as  Middleton  wisely  says,  God  has  revealed  to 
our  senses  of  his  Almighty  power  and  wisdom  in  the  creation 
and  government  of  the  visible  universe,  it  will  be  found  equally 
as  false,  paltry,  and  absurd  as  the  Old. 

Without  entering,  in  this  place,  into  any  other  argument, 
that  the  story  of  Christ  is  of  human  invention,  and  not  of  divine 
origin,  I  will  confine  myself  to  show  that  it  is  derogatory  to 
God,  by  the  contrivance  of  it ;  because  the  means  it  supposes 
God  to  use,  are  not  adequate  to  the  end  to  be  obtained ;  and, 
therefore,  are  derogatory  to  the  Almightiness  of  his  power,  and 
the  eternity  of  his  wisdom. 

The  New  Testament  supposes  that  God  senfe  his  Son  upon 
earth  to  make  a  new  covenant  with  man ;  which  the  church 
calls  the  covenant  of  Grace,  and  to  instruct  mankind  in  a  new 
doctrine  which  it  calls  Faith,  meaning  thereby  not  faith  in  God, 
for  Cicero  and  all  true  Deists  always  had  and  always  will  have 
this;  but  faith  in  the  person  called  Jesus  Christ,  and  that  who 
ever  had  not  this  faith  should,  to  use  the  words  of  the  ^T  ' 
Testament,  be  DAMNED. 

Now,  if  this  were  a  fact,  it  is  consistent  with  that  Attribute 
of  God,  called  his  Goodness,  that  no  time  sliould  oe  lost  i" 


208  EXAMINATION   OF 

letting  poor  unfortunate  man  know  it ;  and  as  that  goodness 
was  united  to  Almighty  power,  and  that  power  to  Almighty 
wisdom,  all  the  means  existed  in  the  hand  of  the  Creator  to 
make  it  known  immediately  over  the  whole  earth,  in  a  manner 
suitable  to  the  Almightiness  of  his  divine  nature,  and  with  evi- 
dence that  would  not  leave  man  in  doubt;  for  it  is  alway* 
incumbent  upon  us,  in  all  cases,  to  believe  that  the  Almighty 
always  acts,  not  by  imperfect  means  as  imperfect  man  acts,  but 
consistently  with  his  Almightiness.  It  is  this  only  that  can 
become  the  infallible  criterion  by  which  we  can  possibly  dis- 
tinguish the  works  of  God  from  the  works  of  man. 

Observe,  now,  reader,  how  the  comparison  between  this  sup- 
posed mission  of  Christ,  on  the  belief  or  disbelief  of  which  they 
say  man  was  to  be  saved  or  damned — observe,  I  say,  how  the 
comparison  between  this  and  the  Almighty  power  and  wisdom 
of  God  demonstrated  to  our  senses  in  the  visible  creation,  goes  on. 

The  Old  Testament  tells  us  that  God  created  the  heavens  and 
the  earth,  and  everything  therein  in  six  days.  The  term  six  day» 
is  ridiculous  enough  when  applied  to  God ;  but  leaving  out  that 
absurdity,  it  contains  the  idea  of  Almighty  power  acting  unit- 
edly with  Almighty  wisdom,  to  produce  an  immense  work,  that 
of  the  creation  of  the  universe  and  everything  therein,  in  a 
short  time. 

Now  as  the  eternal  salvation  of  man  is  of  much  greater 
importance  than  his  creation,  and  as  that  salvation  depends,  as 
the  New  Testament  tells  us,  on  man's  knowledge  of,  and  belief 
in  the  person  called  Jesus  Christ,  it  necessarily  follows  from 
our  belief  in  the  goodness  and  justice  of  God,  and  our  know- 
ledge of  his  almighty  power  and  wisdom,  as  demonstrated  in 
the  creation,  that  ALL  THIS,  if  true,  would  be  made  known  to 
all  parts  of  the  world,  in  as  little  time  at  least,  as  was  employed 
in  making  the  world.  To  suppose  the  Almighty  would  pay 
greater  regard  and  attention  to  the  creation  and  organization 
of  inanimate  matter,  than  he  wonld  to  the  salvation  of  innumer- 
able millions  of  souls,  which  himself  had  created,  "as  t/ie  image 
of  himself"  is  to  offer  an  insult  to  his  goodness  and  his  justice. 

Now  observe,  reader,  how  the  promulgation  of  this  pretended 
salvation  by  a  knowledge  of,  and  a  belief  in  Jesus  Christ  went 
on,  compared  with  the  work  of  creation. 

In  the  first  place,  it  took  longer  time  to  make  a  child  than  to 
make  the  world,  for  nine  months  were  passed  away  and  totally 
lost  in  a  state  of  pregnancy ;  which  is  more  than  forty  times 


THE   PROPHECIES.  209 

longer  time  than  God  employed  in  making  the  world,  accord- 
ing to  the  Bible  account.  Secondly,  several  years  of  Christ's 
life  were  lost  in  a  state  of  human  infancy.  But  the  universe 
was  in  maturity  the  moment  it  existed.  Thirdly,  Christ,  as 
Luke  asserts,  was  thirty  years  old  before  he  began  to  preach 
what  they  call  his  mission.  Millions  of  souls  died  in  the 
meantime  without  knowing  it.  Fourthly,  it  was  above  three 
hundred  years  from  that  time  before  the  book  called  the  New 
Testament  was  compiled  into  a  written  copy,  before  which  time 
there  was  no  such  book.  Fifthly,  it  was  above  a  thousand 
years  after  that,  before  it  could  be  circulated;  because  neither 
Jesus  nor  his  apostles  had  knowledge  of,  or  were  inspired  with 
the  art  of  printing :  and,  consequently,  as  the  means  for  mak- 
ing it  universally  known  did  not  exist,  the  means  were  not 
equal  to  the  end,  and,  therefore,  it  is  not  the  work  of  God. 

I  will  here  subjoin  the  nineteenth  Psalm,  which  is  truly 
deistical,  to  show  how  universally  and  instantaneously  the 
works  of  God  make  themselves  known,  compared  with  this 
pretended  salvation  by  Jesus  Christ. 

Psalm  19th.  "The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God,  and 
the  firmament  showeth  his  handy  work — Day  unto  day  uttereth 
speech,  and  night  unto  night  showeth  knowledge — There  is  no- 
speech  nor  language  where  their  voice  is  not  heard — Their  line 
is  gone  out  through  all  the  earth,  and  their  words  to  the  end  of 
the  world.  In  them  hath  he  set  a  chamber  for  the  sun.  Which 
is  a  bridegroom  coming  out  of  his  chamber,  and  rejoiceth  as  a. 
strong  man  to  run  a  race — his  going  forth  is  from  the  end  of 
the  heaven,  and  his  circuit  unto  the  ends  of  it,  and  there  is 
nothing  hid  from  the  heat  thereof." 

Now,  had  the  news  of  salvation  by  Jesus  Christ  been  in- 
scribed on  the  face  of  the  Sun  and  the  Moon,  in  characters 
that  all  nations  would  have  understood,  the  whole  earth  had 
known  it  in  twenty-four  hours,  and  all  nations  would  have  be- 
lieved it;  whereas,  though  it  is  now  almost  two  thousand  yeara 
since,  as  they  tell  us,  Christ  came  upon  earth,  not  a  twentieth 
part  of  the  people  of  the  earth  know  anything  of  it,  and  among 
those  who  do,  the  wiser  part  do  not  believe  it. 

I  have  now,  reader,  gone  through  all  the  passages  called 
prophecies  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  shown  there  is  no  such  thing. 

I  have  examined  the  story  told  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  com- 
pared the  several  circumstances  of  it  with  that  revelation,, 
which,  as  Middleton  wisely  says,  God  has  made  to  us  of  hia 
14 


210  EXAMINATION   OF  THE  PROPHECIES. 

Power  and  Wisdom  in  the  structure  of  the  universe,  and  by 
which  everything  ascribed  to  him  is  to  be  tried.  The  result  is, 
that  the  story  of  Christ  has  not  one  trait,  either  in  its  character, 
or  in  the  means  employed,  that  bears  the  least  resemblance  to 
the  power  and  wisdom  of  God,  as  demonstrated  in  the  creation 
of  the  universe.  All  the  means  are  human  means,  slow,  un- 
certain, and  inadequate  to  the  accomplishment  of  the  end  pro- 
posed, and,  therefore,  the  whole  is  a  fabulous  invention,  and 
undeserving  of  credit. 

The  priests  of  the  present  day  profess  to  believe  it.  They 
gain  their  living  by  it,  and  they  exclaim  against  something  they 
call  infidelity.  I  will  define  what  it  is.  HE  THAT  BELIEVES  IN 
THE  STORY  OP  CHRIST  IS  AN  INFIDEL  TO  GOD. 

THOMAS  PAINE. 


REPLY  TO   THE  BISHOP   OF  LLA.NDAFF.  211 


EXTRACT  FROM  A  REPLY 

TO  THE 

BISHOP  OF  LLANDAFF 


[This  extract  from  Mr.  Paine's  reply  to  Watson,  Bishop  of  Llandaff,  was 
given  by  him,  not  long  before  his  death,  to  Mrs.  Palmer,  widow  of  Elihu 
Palmer.  He  retained  the  work  entire,  and,  therefore,  must  have  trans* 
cribed  this  part,  which  was  unusual  for  him  to  do.  Probably  he  had  dis- 
covered errors,  which  he  corrected  in  the  copy.  Mrs.  Palmer  presented  it 
to  the  editor  of  a  periodical  work,  entitled  "The  Theophilanthropist,"  pub- 
lished in  New  York,  in  which  it  appeared  in  1810.] 

GENESIS. 

The  Bishop  says,  "the  oldest  book  in  the  world  is  Genesis." 
This  is  mere  assertion;  he  offers  no  proof  of  it,  and  I  go  to 
controvert  it,. and  to  show  that  the  book  of  Job,  which  is  not  a 
Hebrew  book,  but  is  a  book  of  the  Gentiles,  translated  into 
Hebrew,  is  much  older  than  the  book  of  Genesis. 

The  book  of  Genesis  means  the  book  of  Generations;  to  which 
are  prefixed  two  chapters,  the  first  and  second,  which  contain 
two  different  cosmogonies,  that  is,  two  different  accounts  of  the 
creation  of  the  world,  written  by  different  persons,  as  I  have 
shown  in  the  preceding  part  of  this  work.* 

The  first  cosmogony  begins  at  the  first  verse  of  the  first 
chapter,  and  ends  at  the  end  of  the  third  verse  of  the  second 
chapter;  for  the  adverbial  conjunction  thus,  with  which  the 
second  chapter  begins,  shows  those  three  verses  to  belong  to  the 
first  chapter.  The  second  cosmogony  begins  at  the  fourth  verse 
of  the  second  chapter,  and  ends  with  that  chapter. 

In  the  first  cosmogony  the  name  of  God  is  used,  without  any 
epithet  joined  to  it,  and  is  repeated  thirty-five  times.  In  the 
second  cosmogony  it  is  always  the  Lord  God,  which  is  repeated 
eleven  times.  These  two  different  styles  of  expression  show 
these  two  chapters  to  be  the  work  of  two  different  persons,  and 

*  See  Letter  to  Erskine,  page  229. 


212  REPLY  TO  THE 

the  contradictions  they  contain  show  they  cannot  be  the  work 
of  one  and  the  same  person,  as  I  have  already  shown. 

The  third  chapter,  in  which  the  style  of  Lord  God  is  con- 
tinued in  every  instance,  except  in  the  supposed  conversation 
between  the  woman  and  the  serpent  (for  in  every  place  in  that 
chapter  where  the  writer  speaks,  it  is  always  the  Lord  God), 
shows  this  chapter  to  belong  to  the  second  cosmogony. 

This  chapter  gives  an  account  of  what  is  called  the  fall  of 
man,  which  is  no  other  than  a  fable  borrowed  from,  and  con- 
structed upon  the  religion  of  Zoroaster,  or  the  Persians,  or  the 
annual  progress  of  the  sun  through  the  twelve  signs  of  the 
Zodiac,  it  is  the  fall  of  tlie  year,  the  approach  and  evil  of 
winter,  announced  by  the  ascension  of  the  autumnal  constella- 
tion of  the  serpent  of  the  Zodiac,  and  not  the  moral  fall  of  man 
that  is  the  key  of  the  allegory,  and  of  the  fable  in  Genesis- 
borrowed  from  it. 

The  fall  of  man  in  Genesis,  is  said  to  have  been  produced  by 
eating  a  certain  fruit,  generally  taken  to  be  an  apple.  The 
fall  of  the  year  is  the  season  for  the  gathering  and  eating  the 
new  apples  of  that  year.  The  allegory,  therefore,  holds  with 
respect  to  the  fruit,  which  it  would  not  have  done  had  it  been 
an  early  summer  fruit.  It  holds  also  with  respect  to  place. 
The  tree  is  said  to  have  been  placed  in  the  midst  of  the  garden. 
But  why  in  the  midst  of  the  garden  more  than  in  any  other 
place  1  The  situation  of  the  allegory  gives  the  answer  to  this 
question,  which  is,  that  the  fall  of  the  year,  when  apples  and 
other  autumnal  fruits  are  ripe,  and  when  days  and  nights  are 
of  equal  length,  is  the  mid-season  between  summer  and  winter. 

It  holds  also  with  respect  to  clothing  and  the  temperature  of 
the  air.  It  is  said  in  Genesis,  chap.  iii.  ver.  24,  "Unto  Adam 
and  his  wife  did  the  Lord  God  make  coats  of  skins  and  clothed 
them"  But  why  are  coats  of  skins  mentioned?  This  cannot 
be  understood  as  referring  to  anything  of  the  nature  of  moral 
tvil.  The  solution  of  the  allegory  gives  again  the  answer  to 
this  question,  which  is,  that  the  evil  of  winter,  which  follows 
the  fall  of  the  year,  fabulously  called  in  Genesis  the  fall  of 
man,  makes  warm  clothing  necessary. 

But  of  these  things  I  shall  speak  fully  when  I  come  in 
another  part  to  treat  of  the  ancient  religion  of  the  Persians, 
and  compare  it  with  the  modern  religion  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment.* At  present,  I  shall  confine  myself  to  the  comparative 

*  Not  published. 


BISHOP   OF   LLANDAFF.  213 

antiquity  of  the  books  of  Genesis  and  Job,  taking,  at  the  same 
time,  whatever  I  may  find  in  my  way  with  respect  to  the 
fabulousness  of  the  book  of  Genesis ;  for  if  what  is  called  the 
fall  of  man,  in  Genesis,  be  fabulous  or  allegorical,  that  which 
is  called  the  redemption,  in  the  New  Testament,  cannot  be  a 
fact.  It  is  morally  impossible,  and  impossible  also  in  the 
nature  of  things,  that  moral  good  can  redeem  physical  evil.  I 
return  to  the  bishop. 

If  Genesis  be,  as  the  bishop  asserts,  the  oldest  book  in  the 
world,  and  consequently,  the  oldest  and  first  written  .book  of 
the  Bible,  and  if  the  extraordinary  things  related  in  it,  such  as 
the  creation  of  the  world  in  six  days,  the  tree  of  life,  and  of 
good  and  evil,  the  story  of  Eve  and  the  talking  serpent,  the 
fall  of  man  and  his  being  turned  out  of  Paradise,  were  facts, 
or  even  believed  by  the  Jews  to  be  facts,  they  would  be  refer- 
red to  as  fundamental  matters,  and  that  very  frequently,  in  the 
books  of  the  Bible  that  were  written  by  various  authors  after- 
wards ;  whereas,  there  is  not  a  book,  chapter,  or  verse  of  the 
Bible,  from  the  time  Moses  is  said  to  have  written  the  book  of 
Genesis,  to  the  book  of  Malachi,  the  last  book  in  the  Bible,  in- 
cluding a  space  of  more  than  a  thousand  years,  in  which  there 
is  any  mention  made  of  these  things,  or  any  of  them,  nor  are 
they  so  much  as  alluded  to.  How  will  the  bishop  solve  this 
difficulty,  which  stands  as  a  circumstantial  contradiction  to  his 
assertion  1 

There  are  but  two  ways  of  solving  it. 

First,  that  the  book  of  Genesis  is  not  an  ancient  book  ;  that 
it  has  been  written  by  some  (now)  unknown  person,  after  the 
return  of  the  Jews  from  the  Babylonian  captivity,  about  a 
thousand  years  after  the  time  that  Moses  is  said  to  have  lived, 
and  put  as  a  preface  or  introduction  to  the  other  books,  when 
they  were  formed  into  a  canon  in  the  time  of  the  second  temple, 
and,  therefore,  not  having  existed  before  that  time,  none  of 
these  things  mentioned  in  it  could  be  referred  to  in  those  books. 

Secondly,  that  admitting  Genesis  to  have  been  written  by 
Moses,  the  Jews  did  not  believe  the  things  stated  in  it  to  be 
true,  and,  therefore  as  they  could  not  refer  to  them  as  facts,  they 
would  not  refer  to  them  as  fables.  The  first  of  these  solutions 
goes  against  the  antiquity  of  the  book,  and  the  second  against 
its  authenticity,  and  the  bishop  may  take  which  he  pleases. 

But,  be  the  author  of  Genesis  whoever  he  may,  there  is  abun- 
dant evidence  to  show,  as  well  from  the  early  Christian  writers, 


214  REPLY  TO  THE 

as  from  the  Jews  themselves,  that  the  things  stated  in  that 
book  were  not  believed  to  be  facts.  Why  they  have  been  be- 
lieved as  facts  since  that  time,  when  better  and  fuller  know- 
ledge existed  on  the  case,  than  is  known  now,  can  be  accounted 
for  only  on  the  imposition  of  priestcraft. 

Augustine,  one  of  the  early  champions  of  the  Christian 
church,  acknowledges  in  his  "  City  of  God,"  that  the  adventure 
of  Eve  and  the  serpent,  and  the  account  of  Paradise,  were 
generally  considered  as  fiction  or  allegory.  He  regards  them 
as  allegory  himself,  without  attempting  to  give  any  explanation, 
but  he  supposes  that  a  better  explanation  might  be  found  than 
those  that  had  been  offered. 

Origen,  another  early  champion  of  the  church,  says,  "  "What 
man  of  good  sense  can  ever  persuade  himself  that  there  were 
a  first,  a  second,  and  a  third  day,  and  that  each  of  these  days 
had  a  night  when  there  were  yet  neither  sun,  moon,  nor  stars. 
What  man  can  be  stupid  enough  to  believe  that  God,  acting 
the  part  of  a  gardener,  had  planted  a  garden  in  the  east,  that 
the  tree  of  life  was  a  real  tree,  and  that  its  fruit  had  the  virtue 
of  making  those  who  eat  of  it  live  for  ever?" 

Maimonides,  one  of  the  most  learned  and  celebrated  of  the 
Jewish  Rabbins,  who  lived  in  the  eleventh  century  (about  seven 
or  eight  hundred  years  ago)  and  to  whom  the  bishop  refers  in 
his  answer  to  me,  is  very  explicit,  in  his  book  entitled  "  More 
Nevochim,"  upon  the  non-reality  of  the  things  stated  in  the 
account  of  the  Creation  in  the  book  of  Genesis. 

"  We  ought  not  (says  he)  to  understand,  nor  take  according 
to  the  letter,  that  which  is  written  in  the  book  of  the  Creation, 
nor  to  have  the  same  ideas  of  it  with  common  men  ;  otherwise, 
our  ancient  sages  would  not  have  recommended,  with  so  much 
care,  to  conceal  the  sense  of  it,  and  not  to  raise  the  allegori- 
cal veil  which  envelopes  the  truths  it  contains.  The  book  of 
Genesis,  taken  according  to  the  letter,  gives  the  most  absurd 
and  the  most  extravagant  ideas  of  the  Divinity.  Whoever 
shall  find  out  the  sense  of  it,  ought  to  restrain  himself  from  di- 
vulging it.  It  is  a  maxim  which  all  our  sages  repeat,  and  above 
all  with  respect  to  the  work  of  six  days.  It  may  happen  that 
Home  one,  with  the  aid  he  may  borrow  from  others,  may  hit 
n*x>n  the  meaning  of  it.  In  that  case  he  ought  to  impose 
ei.ence  upon  himself ;  or  if  he  speak  of  it,  he  ought  to  speak 
obscurely,  and  in  an  enigmatical  manner,  as  I  do  myself,  leaving 
the  rest  to  be  found  out  by  those  who  can  understand." 


BISHOP  OF   LLANDAFF.  215 

This  is,  certainly,  a  very  extraordinary  declaration  of  Mai- 
monides,  taking  all  the  parts  of  it. 

First,  he  declares,  that  the  account  of  the  Creation  in  the 
book  of  Genesis  is  not  a  fact ;  that  to  believe  it  to  be  a  fact, 
gives  the  most  absurd  and  the  most  extravagant  ideas  of  the 
Divinity. 

Secondly,  that  it  is  an  allegory. 

Thirdly,  that  the  allegory  has  a  concealed  secret. 

Fourthly,  that  whoever  can  find  the  secret  ought  not  to  tell  it. 

It  is  this  last  part  that  is  the  most  extraordinary.  Why  all 
this  care  of  the  Jewish  Rabbins,  to  prevent  what  they  call  the 
concealed  meaning,  or  the  secret,  from  being  known,  and,  if 
known,  to  prevent  any  of  their  people  from  telling  it  1  It  cer- 
tainly must  be  something  which  the  Jewish  nation  are  afraid 
or  ashamed  the  world  should  know.  It  must  be  something  per- 
sonal to  them  as  a  people,  and  not  a  secret  of  a  divine  nature, 
which  the  more  it  is  known,  the  more  it  increases  the  glory 
of  the  Creator,  and  the  gratitude  and  happiness  of  man.  It 
is  not  God's  secret,  but  their  own,  they  are  keeping.  I  go  to 
unveil  the  secret. 

The  case  is,  the  Jews  have  stolen  their  cosmogony,  that  is, 
their  account  of  the  Creation,  from  the  cosmogony  of  the  Per- 
sians, contained  in  the  book  of  Zoroaster,  the  Persian  lawgiver, 
and  brought  it  with  them  when  they  returned  from  captivity 
by  the  benevolence  of  Cyrus,  King  of  Persia  ;  for  it  is  evident, 
from  the  silence  of  all  the  books  of  the  Bible  upon  the  subject 
of  the  Creation,  that  the  Jews  had  no  cosmogony  before  that 
time.  If  they  had  a  cosmogony  from  the  time  of  Moses,  some 
of  their  judges  who  governed  during  more  than  four  hundred 
years,  or  of  their  kings,  the  Davids  and  Solomons  of  their  day, 
who  governed  nearly  five  hundred  years,  or  of  their  prophets 
and  psalmists,  who  lived  in  the  meantime,  would  have  men- 
tioned it.  It  would,  either  as  fact  or  fable,  have  been  the 
grandest  of  all  subjects  for  a  psalm.  It  would  have  suited  to 
a  tittle  the  ranting,  poetical  genius  of  Isaiah,  or  served  as  a  cor- 
dial to  the  gloomy  Jeremiah.  But  not  one  word  nor  even  a 
whisper,  does  any  of  the  Bible  authors  give  upon  the  subject. 

To  conceal  the  theft,  the  Rabbins  of  the  second  temple  have 
published  Genesis  as  a  book  of  Moses,  and  have  enjoined  se- 
crecy to  all  their  people,  who,  by  travelling,  or  otherwise,  might 
happen  to  discover  from  whence  the  cosmogony  was  borrowed, 
not  to  tell  it.  The  evidence  of  circu  instances  is  often  unanswer- 


210  REPLY  TO  THE 

able,  and  there  is  no  other  than  this  which  I  have  given,  that 
goes  to  the  whole  of  the  case,  and  this  does. 

Diogenes  Laertius,  an  ancient  and  respectable  author  whom 
the  bishop,  in  his  answer  to  me,  quotes  011  another  occasion, 
has  a  passage  that  corresponds  with  the  solution  here  given.  In 
speaking  of  the  religion  of  the  Persians,  as  promulgated  by  their 
priests  or  magi,  he  says,  the  Jewish  Rabbins  were  the  success- 
ors of  their  doctrine.  Having  thus  spoken  on  the  plagiarism, 
and  on  tlie  non-reality  of  the  book  of  Genesis,  I  will  give  some 
additional  evidence  that  Moses  is  not  the  author  of  that  book. 
Eben-Ezra,  a  celebrated  Jewish  author,  who  lived  about  seven 
hundred  years  ago,  and  whom  the  bishop  allows  to  have  been  a 
man  of  great  erudition,  has  made  a  great  many  observations, 
too  numerous  to  be  repeated  here,  to  show  that  Moses  was  not, 
and  could  not  be,  the  author  of  the  book  of  Genesis,  nor  any  of 
the  five  books  that  bear  his  name. 

Spinosa,  another  learned  Jew,  who  lived  about  a  hundred 
and  thirty  years  ago,  recites,  in  his  "  Treatise  on  the  Ceremonies 
of  the  Jews,  Ancient  and  Modern,"  the  observations  of  Eben- 
Ezra,  to  which  he  adds  many  others,  to  show  that  Moses  is  not  the 
author  of  these  books.  He  also  says,  and  shows  his  reasons  for 
saying  it,  that  the  Bible  did  not  exist  as  a  book,  till  the  time  of 
the  Maccabees,  which  was  more  than  a  hundred  years  after  the 
return  of  the  Jews  from  the  Babylonian  captivity. 

In  the  second  part  of  the  "  Age  of  Reason,"  I  have,  among 
other  things,  referred  to  nine  verses  in  the  36th  chapter  of 
Genesis,  beginning  at  the  31st  verse,  "  These  are  the  kings  that 
reigned  in  Edom,  before  there  reigned  any  king  over  the  children 
of  Israel,"  which  is  impossible  could  have  been  written  by  Moses, 
or  in  the  time  of  Moses,  and  could  not  have  been  written  until 
after  the  Jew  kings  began  to  reign  in  Israel,  which  was  not  till 
several  hundred  years  after  the  time  of  Moses. 

The  bishop  allows  this,  and  says  "I  think  you  say  true." 
But  he  then  quibbles,  and  says,  that  a  small  addition  to  a  book 
does  not  destroy  either  the  genuineness  or  authenticity  of  the 
whole  book.  This  is  priestcraft.  These  verses  do  not  stand  in 
the  book  as  an  addition  to  it,  but  as  making  a  part  of  the  whole 
book,  and  which  it  is  impossible  that  Moses  could  write.  The 
bishop  would  reject  the  antiquity  of  any  other  book  if  it  could 
be  proved  from  the  words  of  the  book  itself  that  a  part  of  it 
could  not  have  been  written  till  several  hundred  years  after  the 
reputed  author  of  it  was  dead.  He  would  call  such  a  book  a 


BISHOP  OF  LLANDAFF.  217 

forgery.  I  am  authorised,  therefore,  to  call  the  book  of  Genesis 
a  forgery. 

Combining,  then,  all  the  foregoing  circumstances  together 
respecting  the  antiquity  and  authenticity  of  the  book  of  Genesis, 
a  conclusion  will  naturally  follow  therefrom ;  those  circum- 
stances are, 

First,  that  certain  parts  of 'the  book  cannot  possibly  have 
been  written  by  Moses,  and  that  the  other  parts  carry  no  evi- 
dence of  having  been  written  by  him. 

Secondly,  the  universal  silence  of  all  the  following  books  of 
the  Bible,  for  about  a  thousand  years,  upon  the  extraordinary 
things  spoken  of  in  Genesis,  such  as  the  creation  of  the  world 
in  six  days — the  garden  of  Eden — the  tree  of  knowledge — the 
tree  of  life — the  story  of  Eve  and  the  serpent — the  fall  of  man, 
and  his  being  turned  out  of  this  tine  garden,  together  with 
Noah's  flood,  and  the  tower  of  BabeL 

Thirdly,  the  silence  of  all  the  books  of  the  Bible  upon  even 
the  name  of  Moses,  from  the  book  of  Joshua  until  the  second 
book  of  Kings,  which  was  not  written  till  after  the  captivity, 
for  it  gives  an  account  of  the  captivity,  a  period  of  about  a 
thousand  years.  Strange  that  a  man  who  is  proclaimed  as  the 
historian  of  the  Creation,  the  privy-counsellor  and  confidant  of 
the  Almighty — the  legislator  of  the  Jewish  nation,  and  the 
founder  of  its  religion  ;  strange,  I  say,  that  even  the  name  of 
euch  a  man  should  not  find  a  place  in  their  books  for  a  thousand 
years,  if  they  knew  or  believed  anything  about  him,  or  the 
books  he  is  said  to  have  written. 

Fourthly,  the  opinion  of  some  of  the  most  celebrated  of  the 
Jewish  commentators,  that  Moses  is  not  the  author  of  the  book 
of  Genesis,  founded  on  the  reasons  given  for  that  opinion. 

Fifthly,  the  opinion  of  the  early  Christian  writers,  and  of  the 
great  champion  of  Jewish  literature,  Maimonides,  that  the  book 
of  Genesis  is  not  a  book  of  facts. 

Sixthly,  the  silence  imposed  by  all  tbe  Jewish  Rabbins,  and 
by  Maimonides  himself,  upon  the  Jewish  nation,  not  to  speak 
of  anything  they  may  happen  to  know,  or  discover,  respecting 
the  cosmogony  (or  creation  of  the  world)  in  the  book  of  Genesis. 

From  these  circumstances  the  following  conclusions  offer — 

First,  that  the  book  of  Genesis  is  not  a  book  of  facts. 

Secondly,  that  as  no  mention  is  made  throughout  the  Bible 
of  any  of  the  extraordinary  things  related  in  Genesis,  that  it  has 
not  been  written  till  after  the  other  books  were  written,  and  put 


218  REPLY  TO  THE 

as  a  preface  to  the  Bible.     Every  one  knows  that  a  preface  to  a 
book,  though  it  stands  first,  is  the  last  written. 

Thirdly,  that  the  silence  imposed  by  all  the  Jewish  Rabbins, 
and  by  Maimonides  upon  the  Jewish  nation,  to  keep  silence 
upon  every  thing  related  in  their  cosmogony,  evinces  a  secret 
they  are  not  willing  should  be  known.  The  secret,  therefore, 
explains  itself  to  be,  that  when  the  Jews  were  in  captivity  in 
Babylon  and  Persia,  they  became  acquainted  with  the  cosmogony 
of  the  Persians,  as  registered  in  the  Zend-Avesta,  of  Zoroaster, 
the  Persian  lawgiver,  which,  after  their  return  from  captivity, 
they  manufactured  and  modelled  as  their  own,  and  ante-dated  it 
by  giving  to  it  the  name  of  Moses.  The  case  admits  of  no  other 
explanation.  From  ail  which  it  appears  that  the  book  of 
Genesis,  instead  of  being  the  oldest  book  in  the  icorld,  as  the 
bishop  calls  it,  has  been  the  last  written  book  of  the  Bible,  and 
that  the  cosmogony  it  contains  has  been  manufactured. 

ON   THE   NAMES    IN   THE   BOOK    OP   GENESIS. 

Everything  in  Genesis  serves  as  evidence,  or  symptom,  that 
the  book  has  been  composed  in  some  late  period  of  the  Jewish 
nation.  Even  the  names  mentioned  in  it  serve  to  this  purpose. 

Nothing  is  more  common  or  more  natural,  than  to  name  the 
children  of  succeeding  generations  after  the  names  of  those  who- 
had  been  celebrated  in  some  former  generation.  This  holds 
good  with  respect  to  all  the  people  and  all  the  histories  we  know 
of,  and  it  does  not  hold  good  with  the  Bible.  There  must  be  some 
cause  for  this. 

This  book  of  Genesis  tells  us  of  a  man  whom  it  calls  Adam 
and  of  his  sons  Abel  and  Seth ;  of  Enoch  who  lived  365  years- 
(it  is  exactly  the  number  of  days  in  a  year),  and  that  then  God, 
took  him  up.  It  has  the  appearance  of  being  taken  from  some 
allegory  of  the  Gentiles  on  the  commencement  and  termination 
of  the  year  by  the  progress  of  the  sun  through  the  twelve  signs 
of  the  Zodiac,  on  which  the  allegorical  religion  of  the  Gentiles 
was  founded. 

It  tells  us  of  Methuselah  who  lived  969  years,  and  of  a  long 
train -of  other  names  in  the  fifth  chapter.  It  then  passes  on  to 
a  man  whom  it  calls  Noah,  and  his  sons,  Shem,  Ham,  and 
Japhet :  then  to  Lot,  Abraham,  Isaac  and  Jacob,  and  his  sons, 
with  which  the  book  of  Genesis  finishes. 

All  these,  according  to  the  account  given  in  that  book,  were 
the  most  extraordinary  and  celebrated  of  men.  They  were, 


BISHOP  OF  LLANDAFF.  219 

moreover,  heads  of  families.  Adam  was  the  father  of  the  world. 
Enoch,  for  his  righteousness,  was  taken  up  to  heaven.  Methu- 
selah lived  to  almost  a  thousand  years.  He  was  the  son  of 
Enoch,  the  man  of  365,  the  number  of  days  in  a  year.  It  has 
the  appearance  of  being  the  continuation  of  an  Allegory  on  the 
365  days  of  a  year,  and  its  abundant  productions.  Noah  was 
selected  from  all  the  world  to  be  preserved  when  it  was  drowned, 
and  became  the  second  father  of  the  world.  Abraham  was  the 
father  of  the  faithful  multitude.  Isaac  and  Jacob  were  the 
inheritors  of  his  fame,  and  the  last  was  the  father  of  the  twelve 
tribes. 

Now,  if  these  very  wonderful  men  and  their  names,  and  the 
book  that  records  them,  had  been  known  by  the  Jews,  before 
the  Babylonian  captivity,  those  names  would  have  been  as  com- 
mon among  the  Jews  before  that  period  as  they  have  been  since. 
We  now  hear  of  thousands  of  Abrahams,  Isaacs,  and  Jacobs 
among  the  Jews,  hut  there  were  none  of  that  name  before  the 
Babylonian  captivity.  The  Bible  does  not  mention  one,  though 
from  the  time  that  Abraham  is  said  to  have  lived,  to  the  time  of 
the  Babylonian  captivity,  is  about  1400  years. 
.  How  is  it  to  be  accounted  for,  that  there  have  been  so  many 
thousands,  and  perhaps  hundreds  of  thousands  of  Jews  of  the 
names  of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob  since  that  period,  and  not 
one  before  ?  It  can  be  accounted  for  but  one  way,  which  is  that 
before  the  Babylonian  captivity,  the  Jews  had  no  such  book  as 
Genesis,  nor  knew  anything  of  the  names  and  persons  it  men- 
tions, nor  of  the  things  it  relates,  and  that  the  stories  in  it  have 
been  manufactured  since  that  time.  From  the  Arabic  name 
Ibrahim  (which  is  the  manner  the  Turks  write  that  name  to 
this  day)  the  Jews  have  most  probably  manufactured  their 
Abraham. 

I  will  advance  my  observations  a  point  further,  and  speak  of 
the  names  of  Moses  and  Aaron,  mentioned  for  the  first  time  in 
the  book  of  Exodus.  There  are  now,  and  have  continued  to  be 
from  the  time  of  the  Babylonian  captivity,  or  soon  after  it, 
thousands  of  Jews  of  the  names  of  Moses  and  Aaron,  and  we 
read  not  of  any  of  that  name  before  that  time.  The  Bible  does 
not  mention  one.  The  direct  inference  from  this  is,  that  the 
Jews  knew  of  no  such  book  as  Exodus,  before  the  Babylonian 
captivity.  In  fact,  that  it  did  not  exist  before  that  time,  and 
that  it  is  only  since  the  book  has  been  invented,  that  the  names 
of  Moses  and  Aaron  have  been  common  among  the  Jews. 


220  REPLY  TO  THE 

It  is  applicable  to  the  purpose,  to  observe,  that  the  picturesque 
work,  called  Mosaic-work,  spelled  the  same  as  you  would  say 
the  Mosaic  account  of  the  creation,  is  not  derived  from  the  word 
Moses  but  from  Mitses  (the  Muses,  because  of  the  variegated  and 
picturesque  pavement  in  the  temples  dedicated  to  the  Muses). 
This  carries  a  strong  implication  that  the  name  Moses  is  drawn 
from  the  same  source,  and  that  he  is  not  a  real  but  an  allegori- 
cal person,  as  Maimonides  describes  what  is  called  the  Mosaic 
account  of  the  creation  to  be. 

I  will  go  a  point  still  further.  The  Jews  now  know  the  book 
of  Genesis,  and  the  names  of  all  the  persons  mentioned  in  the 
first  ten  chapters  of  that  book,  from  Adam  to  Noah  :  yet  we  do 
not  hear  (I  speak  for  myself)  of  any  Jew  of  the  present  day,  of 
the  name  of  Adam,  Abel,  Seth,  Enoch,  Methuselah,  Noah,* 
Shem,  Ham,  or  Japhet  (names  mentioned  in  the  first  ten  chap- 
ters), though  these  were,  according  to  the  account  in  that  book, 
the  most  extraordinary  of  all  the  names  that  make  up  the  cat- 
alogue of  the  Jewish  chronology. 

The  names  the  Jews  now  adopt  are  those  that  are  mentioned 
in  Genesis  after  the  tenth  chapter,  as  Abraham,  Isaac,  Jacob, 
<kc.  How  then  does  it  happen,  that  they  do  not  adopt  the 
names  found  in  the  first  ten  chapters  ?  Here  is  evidently  a  line 
of  division  drawn  between  the  first  ten  chapters  of  Genesis,  and 
the  remaining  chapters,  with  respect  to  the  adoption  of  names. 
There  must  be  some  cause  for  this,  and  I  go  to  offer  a  solution 
of  the  problem. 

The  reader  will  recollect  the  quotation  I  have  already  made 
from  the  Jewish  Rabbin,  Maimonides,  wherein  he  says,  "  We 
ought  not  to  understand  nor  to  take  according  to  the  letter  that 
which  is  written  in  the  book  of  the  creation.  It  is  a  maxim 
(says  he)  which  all  our  sages  repeat  above  all,  with  respect  to 
the  work  of  six  days." 

The  qualifying  expression  above  all,  implies  there  are  other 
parts  of  the  book,  though  not  so  important,  that  ought  not  to  be 
understood  or  taken  according  to  the  letter,  and  as  the  Jews  do 
not  adopt  the  names  mentioned  in  the  first  ten  chapters,  it 
appears  evident  those  chapters  are  included  in  the  injunction 
not  to  take  them  in  a  literal  sense,  or  according  to  the  letter  ; 
from  which  it  follows,  that  the  persons  or  characters  mentioned 
in  the  first  ten  chapters,  as  Adam,  Abel,  Seth,  Enoch,  Methu- 

*  Noah  ia  an  exception ;  there  are  many  of  that  name  among  the  Jews.— 
EDITOB. 


BISHOP  OF  LLANDAFF.  221 

«elah,  and  so  on  to  Noah,  are  not  real  but  fictitious  or  allegorical 
persons,  and,  therefore,  the  Jews  do  not  adopt  their  names  into 
their  famlies.  If  they  affixed  the  same  idea  of  reality  to  them 
as  they  do  to  those  that  follow  after  the  tenth  chapter,  the 
names  of  Adam,  Abel,  Seth,  &c.,  would  be  as  common  among 
the  Jews  of  the  present  day,  as  are  those  of  Abraham,  Isaac, 
Jacob,  Moses  and  Aaron. 

In  the  superstition  they  have  been  in,  scarcely  a  Jew  family 
would  have  been  without  an  Enoch,  as  a  presage  of  his  going  to 
heaven  as  ambassador  for  the  whole  family.  Every  mother  who 
wished  that  the  days  of  her  son  might  be  long  in  the  land  would 
•call  him  Methuselah  ;  and  all  the  Jews  that  might  have  to  tra- 
verse the  ocean  would  be  named  Noah,  as  a  charm  against  ship- 
wreck and  drowning. 

This  is  domestic  evidence  against  the  book  of  Genesis,  which 
joined  to  the  several  kinds  of  evidence  before  recited,  shows 
the  book  of  Genesis  not  to  be  older  than  the  Babylonian  cap- 
tivity, and  to  be  fictitious.  I  proceed  to  fix  the  character  and 
antiquity  of  the  book  of 

JOB. 

The  book  of  Job  has  not  the  least  appearance  of  being  a  book 
of  the  Jews,  and  though  printed  among  the  books  of  the  Bible, 
does  not  belong  to  it.  There  is  no  reference  in  it  to  any  Jew- 
ish law  or  ceremony.  On  the  contrary,  all  the  internal  evidence 
it  contains  shows  it  to  be  a  book  of  the  Gentiles,  either  of 
Persia  or  Chaldea. 

The  name  of  Job  does  not  appear  to  be  a  Jewish  name. 
There  is  no  Jew  of  that  name  in  any  of  the  books  of  the  Bible, 
neither  is  there  now  that  I  ever  heard  of.  The  country  where 
Job  is  said  or  supposed  to  have  lived,  or  rather  where  the  scene 
of  the  drama  is  laid,  is  called  TJz,  and  there  was  no  place  of 
that  name  ever  belonging  to  the  Jews.  If  Uz  is  the  same  as 
Ur,  it  was  in  Chaldea,  or  the  country  of  the  Gentiles. 

The  Jews  can  give  no  account  how  they  came  by  this  book, 
nor  who  was  the  author,  nor  the  time  when  it  was  written. 
Origen,  in  his  work  against  Celsus  (in  the  first  ages  of  the 
Christian  church),  says,  that  the  book  of  Job  is  older  than  Moses. 
Eben-Ezra,  the  Jewish  commentator,  whom  (as  I  have  before 
said)  the  bishop  allows  to  have  been  a  man  of  great  erudition, 
and  who  certainly  understood  his  own  language,  says,  that  the 
•book  of  Job  has  been  translated  from  another  language  into 


222  REPLY   TO  THE 

Hebrew.  Spinosa,  another  Jewish  commentator  of  great  learn- 
ing, confirms  the  opinion  of  Eben-Ezra,  and  says  moreover, 
"Je  crois  gue  Job  etait  Gentile;"*  I  believe  that  Job  was  a 
Gentile. 

The  bishop  (in  his  answer  to  me)  says,  "  that  the  structure  of 
the  whole  book  of  Job,  in  whatever  light  of  history  or  drama 
it  be  considered,  is  founded  on  the  belief  that  prevailed  with 
the  Persians  and  Chaldeans,  and  other  Gentile  nations,  of  a 
good  and  an  evil  spirit. 

In  speaking  of  the  good  and  evil  spirit  of  the  Persians,  the 
bishop  writes  them  Arimanius  and  Oromasdes.  I  will  not  dis- 
pute about  the  orthography,  because  I  know  that  translated 
names  are  differently  spelled  in  different  languages.  But  he 
has  nevertheless  made  a  capital  error.  He  has  put  the  devil 
first;  for  Arimanius,  or,  as  it  is  more  generally  written,  Ahri- 
man,  is  the  evil  spirit,  smd^Oromasdes  or  Ormusd  the  good- 
spirit.  He  has  made  the  same  mistake  in  the  same  paragraph,. 
in  speaking  of  the  good  and  evil  spirit  of  the  ancient  Egyptians, 
Osiris  and  Typho,  he  puts  Typho  before  Osiris.  The  error  is- 
just  the  same  as  if  the  bishop  in  writing  about  the  Christian 
religion,  or  in  preaching  a  sermon,  were  to  say  the  Devil  and 
God.  A  priest  ought  to  know  his  own  trade  better.  We  agree, 
however,  about  the  structure  of  the  book  of  Job,  that  it  is  Gen- 
tile. I  have  said  in  the  second  part  of  the  "  Age  of  Reason,'^ 
and  given  my  reasons  for  it,  that  the  drama  of  it  is  not  Hebrew. 

From  the  testimonies  I  have  cited,  that  of  Origen,  who,  about 
fourteen  hundred  years  ago,  said  that  the  book  of  Job  was  more 
ancient  than  Moses ;  that  of  Eben-Ezra,  who,  in  his  "  Commen- 
tary on  Job,"  says,  it  has  been  translated  from  another  language- 
(and  consequently  from  a  Gentile  language)  into  Hebrew ;  that  of 
Spinosa,  who  not  only  says  the  same  thing,  but  that  the  author 
of  it  was  a  Gentile  ;  and  that  of  the  bishop,  who  says  that  the 
structure  of  the  whole  book  is  Gentile.  It  follows  then,  in  the 
first  place,  that  the  book  of  Job  is  not  a  book  of  the  Jews 
originally. 

Then,  in  order  to  determine  to  what  people  or  nation  any 
book  of  religion  belongs,  we  must  compare  it  with  the  leading 
dogmas  or  precepts  of  that  people  or  nation ;  and,  therefore,  upon 
the  bishop's  own  construction,  the  book  of  Job  belongs  either  to- 
the  ancient  Persians,  the  Chaldeans,  or  the  Egyptians;  because 

*  Spinosa  on  the  ceremonies  of  the  Jews,  page  296,  nublished  in  French* 
at  Amsterdam,  1678. 


BISHOP  OF  LLANDAPF.  223 

the  structure  of  it  is  consistent  -with  the  dogma  they  held,  that 
of  a  good  and  evil  spirit,  called  in  Job,  God  and  Satan,  existing 
as  distinct  and  separate  beings,  and  it  is  not  consistent  with 
any  dogma  of  the  Jews. 

The  belief  of  a  good  and  an  evil  spirit,  existing  as  distinct 
and  separate  beings,  is  not  a  dogma  to  be  found  in  any  of  the 
books  of  the  Bible.  It  is  not  till  we  come  to  the  New  Testa- 
ment that  we  he  hear  of  any  such  dogma.  There  the  person 
called  the  Son  of  God,  holds  conversation  with  Satan  on  & 
mountain,  as  familiarly  as  is  represented  in  the  drama  of  Job. 
Consequently  the  bishop  cannot  say,  in  this  respect,  that  the 
New  Testament  is  founded  upon  the  Old.  According  to  the 
Old,  the  God  of  the  Jews  was  the  God  of  everything.  All  good 
and  evil  came  from  him.  According  to  Exodus,  it  was  God, 
and  not  the  Devil,  that  hardened  Pharaoh's  heart.  According 
to  the  book  of  Samuel,  it  was  an  evil  spirit  from  God  that 
troubled  Saul.  And  Ezekiel  makes  God  to  say,  in  speaking  of 
the  Jews,  "  /  gave  them  the  statutes  that  were  not  good,  and 
judgments  by  which  they  should  not  live."  The  bible  describes 
the  God  of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob  in  such  a  contradictory 
manner,  and  under  such  a  two-fold  character,  there  would  be  no 
knowing  when  he  was  in  earnest  and  when  in  irony ;  when  to 
believe  and  when  not.  As  to  the  precepts,  principles,  and 
maxims,  in  the  book  of  Job,  they  show  that  the  people,  abusively 
called  the  heathen  in  the  books  of  the  Jews,  had  the  most  sub- 
lime ideas  of  the  Creator,  and  the  most  exalted  devotional  moral- 
ity. It  was  the  Jews  who  dishonored  God.  It  was  the  Gen- 
tiles who  glorified  him.  As  to  the  fabulous  personifications 
introduced  by  the  Greeks  and  Latin  poets,  it  was  a  corruption 
of  the  ancient  religion  of  the  Gentiles,  which  consisted  in  the 
adoration  of  a  first  cause  of  the  works  of  the  creation,  in  which 
the  sun  was  the  great  visible  agent. 

It  appears  to  have  been  a  religion  of  gratitude  and  adoration, 
and  not  of  prayer  and  discontented  solicitation.  In  Job  we 
find  adoration  and  submission,  but  not  prayer.  Even  the  ten 
commandments  enjoin  not  prayer.  Prayer  has  been  added  to 
devotion  by  the  church  of  Rome,  as  the  instrument  of  fees  and 
perquisites.  All  prayers  by  the  priests  of  the  Christian  church, 
whether  public  or  private,  must  be  paid  for.  It  may  be  right, 
individually,  to  pray  for  virtues,  or  menta/  instruction,  but  not 
for  things.  It  is  an  attempt  to  dictate  to  the  Almighty  in  the 
government  of  the  world.  But  to  return  to  the  book  of  Job. 


224  REPLY  TO   THE 

As  the  book  of  Job  decides  itself  to  be  a  book  of  the  Gen- 
tiles, the  next  thing  is  to  find  out  to  what  particular  nation  it 
belongs,  and  lastly,  what  is  its  antiquity. 

As  a  composition  it  is  sublime,  beautiful  and  scientific :  full 
of  sentiment,  and  abounding  in  grand  metaphorical  description. 
As  a  drama,  it  is  regular.  The  dramatis  personce,  the  persons 
performing  the  several  parts,  are  regularly  introduced  and  speak 
without  interruption  or  confusion.  The  scene,  as  I  have  before 
said,  is  laid  in  the  country  of  the  Gentiles,  and  the  unities, 
though  not  always  necessary  in  a  drama,  are  observed  here  as 
strictly  as  the  subject  would  admit. 

In  the  last  act,  where  the  Almighty  is  introduced  as  speak- 
ing from  the  whirlwind,  to  decide  the  controversy  between  Job- 
and  his  friends,  it  is  an  idea  as  grand  as  poetical  imagination 
can  conceive.  What  follows  of  Job's  future  prosperity  does  not 
belong  to  it  as  a  drama.  It  is  an  epilogue  of  the  writer,  as  the 
first  verses  of  the  first  chapter,  which  gave  an  account  of  Job, 
his  country  and  his  riches,  are  the  prologue. 

The  book  carries  the  appearance  of  being  the  work  of  some 
of  the  Persian  Magi,  not  only  because  the  structure  of  it  corres- 
ponds to  the  dogmas  of  the  religion  of  those  people,  as  founded 
by  Zoroaster,  but  from  the  astronomical  references  in  it  to  the 
constellations  of  the  zodiac  and  other  objects  in  the  heavens,  of 
which  the  sun,  in  their  religion  called  Mithra,  was  the  chief. 
Job,  in  describing  the  power  of  God  (Job  ix.  ver.  27),  says, 
"  Who  commandeth  the  sun,  and  it  riseth  not,  and  sealeth  up 
the  stars — who  alone  spreadeth  out  the  heavens,  and  treadeth 
upon  the  waves  of  the  sea — who  maketh  Arcturus,  Orion,  and 
Pleiades,  and  the  chambers  of  the  south."  All  this  astronomi- 
cal allusion  is  consistent  with  the  religion  of  the  Persians. 

Establishing  then  the  book  of  Job,  as  the  work  of  some  of 
the  Persian,  or  Eastern  Magi,  the  case  naturally  follows,  that 
when  the  Jews  returned  from  captivity,  by  the  permission  of 
Cyrus,  king  of  Persia,  they  brought  this  book  with  them  :  had 
it  translated  into  Hebrew,  and  put  into  their  scriptural  canons, 
which  were  not  formed  till  after  their  return.  This  will  account 
for  the  name  of  Job  being  mentioned  in  Ezekiel)  Ezekiel,  chap. 
xiv.,  v.  14),  who  was  one  of  the  captives,  and  also  for  its  not 
being  mentioned  in  any  book  said  or  supposed  to  have  been 
written  before  the  captivity. 

Among  the  astronomical  allusions  in  the  book,  there  is  one 
which  serves  to  fix  its  antiquity.  It  is  that  where  God  is  made 


BISHOP  OF  LLANDAFF.  225 

to  say  to  Job,  in  the  style  of  reprimand,  "  Canst  thou  bind  the 
sweet  influences  of  Pleiades."  (Chap,  xxxviii.,  ver.  31  )  As 
the  explanation  of  this  depends  upon  astronomical  calculation, 
I  will,  for  the  sake  of  those  who  would  not  otherwise  under- 
itand  it,  endeavor  to  explain  it  as  clearly  as  the  subject  will 
tdmit. 

The  Pleiades  are  a  cluster  of  pale,  milky  stars,  about  the  size 
jf  a  man's  hand,  in  the  constellation  Taurus,  or  in  English,  the 
Bull.  It  is  one  of  the  constellations  of  the  zodiac,  of  which 
there  are  twelve,  answering  to  the  twelve  months  of  the  year 
The  Pleiades  are  visible  in  the  winter  nights,  but  not  in  the 
summer  nights,  being  then  below  the  horizon 

The  zodiac  is  an  imaginary  belt  or  circle  in  the  heavens, 
eighteen  degrees  broad,  in  which  the  sun  apparently  makes  his 
annual  course,  and  in  which  all  the  planets  move.  When  the 
sun  appears  to  our  view  to  be  between  us  and  the  group  of  star* 
forming  such  or  such  a  constellation,  he  is  said  to  be  in  that 
constellation.  Consequently  the  constellations  he  appears  to  \>* 
in,  in  the  summer,  are  directly  opposite  to  those  he  appeared  in 
in  the  winter,  and  the  same  in  respect  to  spring  and  autumn 

The  zodiac,  besides  being  divided  into  twelve  constellations. 
is  also,  like  every  other  circle,  great  or  small,  divided  into  3 GO 
equal  parts,  called  degrees;  consequently  each  constellation- 
contains  30  degrees.  The  constellations  of  the  zodiac  arc  gen 
erally  called  signs,  to  distinguish  them  from  the  constellation* 
that  are  placed  out  of  the  zodiac,  and  this  is  the  name  I  shall 
now  use. 

The  precession  of  the  equinoxes  is  the  part  most  difficult  to 
explain,  and  it  is  on  this  that  the  explanation  chiefly  depends 

The  equinoxes  correspond  to  the  two  seasons  of  the  year 
when  the  sun  makes  equal  day  and  night. 

Thefottounng  is  a  disconnected  part  oftJie  same  work,  and  is  now  (1824} 
first  published. 

SABBATH,  OR  SUNDAY. 

The  seventh  day,  or  more  properly  speaking  the  period  of 
seven  days,  was  originally  a  numerical  division  of  time  and 
nothing  more ;  and  had  the  bishop  been  acquainted  with  the  . 
history  of  astronomy,  he  would  have  known  this.     The  annual 
revolution  of  the  earth  makes  what  we  call  a  year. 
15 


226  REPLY  TO  THE 

The  year  is  artificially  divided  into  months,  the  months  into 
weeks  of  seven  days,  the  days  into  hours,  &c.  The  period  of 
seven  days,  like  any  other  of  the  artificial  divisions  of  the  year, 
is  only  a  fractional  part  thereof,  contrived  for  the  convenience 
of  countries. 

It  is  ignorance,  imposition,  and  priest-craft,  that  have  called 
it  otherwise.  They  might  as  well  talk  of  the  Lord's  month,  of 
the  Lord's  week,  of  the  Lord's  hour,  as  of  the  Lord's  day.  All 
time  is  his,  and  no  part  of  it  is  more  holy  or  more  sacred  than 
another.  It  is,  however,  necessary  to  the  trade  of  a  priest, 
that  he  should  preach  up  a  distinction  of  days. 

Before  the  science  of  astronomy  was  studied  and  carried  to 
the  degree  of  eminence  to  which  it  was  by  the  Egyptians  and 
Chaldeans,  the  people  of  those  times  had  no  other  helps,  than 
what  common  observation  of  the  very  visible  changes  of  the  sun 
and  moon  afforded,  to  enable  them  to  keep  an  account  of  the 
progress  of  time.  As  far  as  history  establishes  the  point,  the 
Egyptians  were  the  first  people  who  divided  the  year  into 
twelve  months.  Herodotus,  who  lived  above  two  thousand 
two  hundred  years  ago,  and  is  the  most  ancient  historian  whose 
works  have  reached  our  time,  says,  they  did  this  by  the  know- 
la. Ige  they  Jiad  of  the  stars.  As  to  the  Jews,  there  is  not  one 
s:!igle  improvement  in  any  science  or  in  any  scientific  art,  that 
they  ever  produced.  They  were  the  most  ignorant  of  all  the 
illiterate  world.  If  the  word  of  the  Lord  had  come  to  them, 
-as  they  pretend,  and  as  the  bishop  professes  to  believe,  and 
that  they  were  to  be  the  harbingers  of  it  to  the  rest  of  the 
world ;  the  Lord  would  have  taught  them  the  use  of  letters, 
and  the  art  of  printing  ;  for  without  the  means  of  communicat- 
ing the  word,  it  could  not  be  communicated ;  whereas  letters 
were  the  invention  of  the  Gentile  world ;  and  printing  the 
modern  world.  But  to  return  to  my  subject — 

Before  the  helps  which  the  science  of  astronomy  afforded,  the 
people  as  before  said,  had  no  other,  whereby  to  keep  an  account 
of  the  progress  of  time,  than  what  the  common  and  very  visible 
changes  of  the  sun  and  moon  afforded.  They  saw  that  a  great 
number  of  days  made  a  year,  but  the  account  of  them  was  too 
tedious,  and  too  difficult  to  be  kept  numerically,  from  one  to 
three  hundred  and  sixty-five  ;  neither  did  they  know  the  true 
time  of  a  solar  year.  It,  therefore,  became  necessary,  for  the 
purpose  of  marking  the  progress  of  days,  to  put  them  into  small 
parcels,  such  as  are  now  called  weeks ;  and  which  consisted  as 


BISHOP  OF   LLANDAFP.  227 

they  now  do  of  seven  days.  By  this  means  the  memory  was 
assisted  as  it  is  with  us  at  this  day ;  for  we  do  not  say  of  any 
thing  that  is  past,  that  it  was  fifty,  sixty,  or  seventy  days  ago, 
but  that  it  was  so  many  weeks,  or,  if  longer  time,  so  many 
months.  It  is  impossible  to  keep  an  account  of  time  without 
helps  of  this  kind. 

Julian  Scaliger,  the  inventor  of  the  Julian  period  of  7,980 
years,  produced  by  multiplying  the  cycle  of  the  moon,  the  cycle 
of  the  sun,  and  the  years  of  an  indiction,  19,  28,  15,  into  each 
other;  says,  that  the  custom  of  reckoning  by  periods  of  seven 
days  was  used  by  the  Assyrians,  the  Egyptians,  the  Hebrews, 
the  people  of  India,  the  Arabs,  and  by  all  the  nations  of  the 
east. 

In  addition  to  what  Scaliger  says,  it  is  evident  that  in 
Britain,  in  Germany,  and  the  north  of  Europe,  they  reckoned 
by  periods  of  seven  days,  long  before  the  book  called  the  bible, 
was  known  in  those  parts;  and,  consequently,  that  they  did 
not  take  that  mode  of  reckoning  from  anything  written  in  that 
book. 

That  they  reckoned  by  periods  of  seven  days  is  evident  from 
their  having  seven  names  and  no  more  for  the  several  days ; 
and  which  have  not  the  most  distant  relation  to  anything  in 
the  book  of  Genesis,  or  to  that  which  is  called  the  fourth  com- 
mandment. 

Those  names  are  still  retained  in  England,  with  no  other 
alteration  than  what  has  been  produced  by  moulding  the  Saxon 
and  Danish  languages  into  modern  English. 

1.  Sun-day,  Sunne  the  sun,  and  dag,  day,  Saxon.     Sunday, 
Danish.     The  day  dedicated  to  the  sun. 

2.  Monday,  that  is,  moonday,  from  Mona,  the  moon,  Saxon. 
Moano,  Danish.     Day  dedicated  to  the  moon. 

3.  Tuesday,  that  is,  Tuis-co's-day.     The  day  dedicated  to  the 
Idol  Tuisco. 

4.  Wednes-day,  that  is  Woden's-day.     The  day  dedicated  to 
Woden,  the  Mars  of  the  Germans. 

5.  Thurs-day,  that  is  Thor's-day,  dedicated  to  the  Idol  Thor. 

6.  Friday,  that  is  Friga's-day.     The  day  dedicated  to  Friga, 
the  Venus  of  the  Saxons. 

Saturday  from  Seaten  (Saturn),  an  Idol  of  the  Saxons ;  one 
of  the  emblems  representing  time,  which  continually  terminates 
and  renews  itself:  the  last  day  of  the  period  of  seven  days. 
When  we  see  a  certain  mode  of  reckoning  general  among 


228  REPLY  TO  THE      t 

nations  totally  unconnected,  differing  from  each  other  in  reli- 
gion and  in  government,  and  some  of  them  unknown  to  each 
other,  we  may  be  certain  that  it  arises  from  some  natural  and 
common  cause,  prevailing  alike  over  all,  and  which  strikes  every 
one  in  the  same  manner.  Thus  all  nations  have  reckoned 
arithmetically  by  tens,  because  the  people  of  all  nations  have 
ten  fingers.  If  they  had  more  or  less  than  ten,  the  mode  of 
arithmetical  reckoning  would  have  followed  that  number,  for 
the  fingers  are  a  natural  numeration  table  to  all  the  world.  I 
now  come  to  show  why  the  period  of  seven  days  is  so  generally 
adopted. 

Though  the  sun  is  the  great  luminary  of  the  world,  and  the 
animating  cause  of  all  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  the  moon  by  re- 
newing herself  more  than  twelve  times  oftener  than  the  sun, 
which  does  it  but  once  a  year,  served  the  rustic  world  as  a 
natural  almanac,  as  the  fingers  served  it  for  a  numeration  table. 
All  the  world  could  see  the  moon,  her  changes,  and  her  monthly 
revolutions ;  and  their  mode  o2  reckoning  time  was  accommo- 
dated, as  nearly  as  could  possibly  be  done  in  round  numbers,  to- 
agree  with  the  changes  of  that  planet,  their  natural  almanac. 

The  moon  performs  her  natural  revolution  round  the  earth 
in  twenty-nine  days  and  a  half.  She  goes  from  a  new  moon  to 
a  half  moon,  to  a  full  moon,  to  a  half  moon  gibbous  or  convex, 
and  then  to  a  new  moon  again.  Each  of  these  changes  is  per- 
formed in  seven  days  and  nine  hours ;  but  seven  days  is  the 
nearest  division  in  round  numbers  that  could  be  taken ;  and 
this  was  sufficient  to  suggest  the  universal  custom  of  reckoning 
by  periods  of  seven  days,  since  it  is  impossible  to  reckon  time 
without  some  stated  period. 

How  the  odd  hours  could  be  disposed  of  without  interfering 
with  the  regular  periods  of  seven  days,  in  case  the  ancients 
recommenced  a  new  Septenary  period  with  every  new  moon, 
required  no  more  difficulty  than  it  did  to  regulate  the  Egyptian 
Calendar  afterwards  of  twelve  months  of  thirty  days  each,  or 
the  odd  hour  in  tha  Julian  Calendar,  or  the  odd  days  and  hours 
in  the  French  Calendar.  In  all  cases  it  is  done  by  the  addition 
of  CGI.  .imentary  days ;  and  it  can  be  done  in  no  otherwise. 

The  bishop  knows  that  as  the  solar  year  does  not  end  at  the 
termination  of  what  we  call  a  day,  but  runs  some  hours  into 
the  next  day,  as  the  quarters  of  the  Moon  runs  some  hours 
Beyond  seven  days ;  that  it  is  impossible  to  give  the  year  any 
number  of  days,  that  will  not  in  course  of  years  become 


BISHOP  OF  LLANDAFF.  229 

wrong  and  make  a  complementary  time  necessary  to  keep  the 
nominal  year  parallel  with  the  solar  year.  The  same  must  have 
been  the  case  with  those  who  regulated  time  formerly  by  lunar 
revolutions.'  They  would  have  to  add  three  days  to  every 
second  moon,  or  in  that  proportion,  in  order  to  make  the  new 
moon  and  the  new  week  commence  together  like  the  nominal 
year  and  the  solar  year. 

Diodorus  of  Sicily,  who,  as  before  said,  lived  before  Christ 
was  born,  in  giving  an  account  of  times  much  anterior  to  his 
own,  speaks  of  years  of  three  months,  of  four  months,  and  of 
six  months.  These  could  be  of  no  other  than  years  composed 
of  lunar  revolutions,  and,  therefore,  to  bring  the  several  periods 
of  seven  days,  to  agree  with  such  years  there  must  have  been 
complementary  days. 

The  moon  was  the  first  almanac  the  world  knew ;  and  the 
only  one  which  the  face  of  the  heavens  afforded  to  common 
spectators.  Her  changes  and  her  revolutions  have  entered 
into  all  the  Calendars  that  have  been  known  in  the  known 
world. 

The  division  of  the  year  into  twelve  months,  which,  as  before 
shown,  was  first  done  by  the  Egyptians,  though  arranged  with 
astronomical  knowledge,  had  reference  to  the  twelve  moons,  or 
more  properly  speaking,  to  the  twelve  lunar  revolutions  that 
appear  in  the  space  of  a  solar  year;  as  the  period  of  seven  days 
had  reference  to  one  revolution  of  the  moon.  The  feasts  of  the 
Jews  were,  and  those  of  the  Christian  church  still  are,  regu- 
lated by  the  moon.  The  Jews  observed  the  feasts  of  the  new 
moon  and  full  moon,  and,  therefore,  the  period  of  seven  days 
was  necessary  to  them. 

All  the  feasts  of  the  Christian  church  are  regulated  by  the 
moon.  That  called  Easter  governs  all  the  rest,  and  the  moon 
governs  Easter.  It  is  always  the  first  Sunday  after  the  first 
full  moon  that  happens  after  the  vernal  Equinox,  or  21st  of 
March. 

In  proportion  as  the  science  of  astronomy  was  studied  and 
improved  by  the  Egyptians  and  Chaldeans,  and  the  solar  year 
regulated  by  astronomical  observations,  the  custom  of  reckon- 
ing by  lunar  revolutions  became  of  less  use,  and  in  time  dis- 
continued. But  such  is  the  harmony  of  all  parts  of  the 
machinery  of  the  universe,  that  a  calculation  made  from  the 
motion  of  one  part  will  correspond  with  the  motion  of  some 
other. 


230  REPLY  TO  THE 

The  period  of  seven  days  deduced  from  the  revolution  of  the 
moon  round  the  earth,  correspond  nearer  than  any  other  period 
of  days  -would  do  to  the  revolution  of  the  earth  round  the  sun. 
Fifty-two  periods  of  seven  days  make  364,  which  is  within  one 
day  and  some  odd  hours  of  a  solar  year;  and  there  is  no  other 
periodical  number  that  will  do  the  same,  till  we  come  to  the 
number  thirteen,  which  is  too  great  for  common  use,  and  the 
numbers  before  seven  are  too  small.  The  custom,  therefore,  of 
reckoning  by  periods  of  seven  days,  as  best  suited  to  the  revo- 
iMior,  of  the  moon,  applied  with  equal  convenience  to  the  solar 
y<"  ,  and  became  united  with  it.  But  the  decimal  division  of 
time,  as  regulated  by  the  French  Calendar,  is  superior  to  every 
other  method. 

There  is  no  part  of  the  Bible  that  Js  supposed  to  have  been 
written  by  persons  who  lived  before  i  he  time  of  Josiah,  (which 
was  a  thousand  years  after  the  timv  of  Moses,)  that  mentions 
anything  about  the  sabbath  as  a  day  consecrated  to  that  which 
is  called  the  fourth  commandment,  or  that  the  Jews  kept  any 
such  day.  Had  any  such  day  beer  kept,  during  the  thousand 
years  of  which  I  am  speaking,  i'  certainly  would  have  been 
mentioned  frequently;  and  that  /*-,  'ihould  never  be  mentioned, 
is  strong  presumptive  and  circa/- •.•stantial  evidence  that  no  such 
day  was  kept.  But  mention  if,  rften  made  of  the  feasts  of  the 
new  moon,  and  of  the  full  irr/>v ;  for  the  Jews,  as  before  shown, 
worshipped  the  moon;  anc*  th«  word  sabbath  was  applied  by 
the  Jews  to  the  feasts  of  'Jh9t  planet,  and  to  those  of  their 
other  deities.  It  is  said  ir.  Hosea,  chap.  ii.  verse  11,  in  speak- 
ing of  the  Jewish  nat'oi,  "  And  I  will  cause  all  her  mirth  to 
cease,  her  feast-days,  her  new-moons,  and  her  sabbatlis,  and  all 
her  solemn  feasts."  Nobody  will  be  so  foolish  as  to  contend 
that  the  sdbbatJm  here  spoken  of  are  Mosaic  sabbaths.  The 
construction  of  toe  verse  implies  they  are  lunar  sabbaths,  or 
sabbaths  of  the  moon.  It  ought  also  to  be  observed  that 
Hosea  lived  in  the  time  of  Ahaz  and  Hezekiah,  about  seventy 
years  before  the  time  of  Josiah,  when  the  law  called  the  law  of 
Moses  is  said  to  have  heen  found ;  and,  consequently,  the 
sabbaths  that  Hosea  speaks  of  are  sabbaths  of  the  idolatry. 

When  those  priestly  reformers  (impostors  I  should  call 
th  -in),  Hilkiah,  Ezra,  and  Nehemiali,  began  to  produce  books 
under  the  name  of  the  books  of  Moses,  they  found  the  word 
Kctbbn.lh  in  use:  and  as  to  the  period  of  seven  days,  it  is,  like 
numbering  arithmetically  by  tens,  from  time  immemorial.  But 


BIS1IOP  OF  LLANDAFF.  231 

having  found  them  in  use,  they  continued  to  make  them  sen  e 
to  the  support  of  their  new  imposition.  They  trumped  up  a 
story  of  the  creation  being  made  in  six  days,  and  of  the  Creator 
resting  on  the  seventh,  to  suit  with  the  lunar  and  chronological 
period  of  seven  days;  and  they  manufactured  a  commandment 
u>  agree  with  both.  Impostors  always  work  in  this  manner. 
Jhey  put  fables  for  originals,  and  causes  for  effects. 

There  is  scarcely  any  part  of  science,  or  anything  in  nature, 
rfrhich  those  impostors  and  blasphemers  of  science,  called  priests, 
AS  well  Christians  as  Jews,  have  not,  at  some  time  or  other, 
perverted,  or  sought  to  pervert  to  the  purpose  of  superstition 
and  falsehood.  Everything  wonderful  in  appearance  has  been 
ascribed  to  angels,  to  devils,  or  to  saints.  Everything  ancient 
has  some  legendary  tale  annexed  to  it.  The  common  operations 
of  nature  have  not  escaped  their  practice  of  corrupting  every- 
thing. 


FUTURE  STATE. 

The  idea  of  a  future  state  was  an  universal  idea  to  all  nations 
except  the  Jews.  At  the  time  and  long  before  Jesus  Christ 
and  the  men  called  his  disciples  were  born,  it  had  been  sub- 
limely treated  of  by  Cicero  in  his  book  on  old  age,  by  Plato, 
Socrates,  Xenophon,  and  other  of  the  ancient  theologists,  whom 
the  abusive  Christian  church  calls  heathen.  Xenophon  repre- 
sents the  elder  Cyrus  speaking  after  this  manner : — 

"Think  not,  my  dearest  children,  that  when  I  depart  from 
you,  I  shall  be  110  more ;  but  remember  that  my  soul,  even 
while  I  lived  among  you,  was  invisible  to  you  ;  yet  by  my  ac- 
tions you  were  sensible  it  existed  in  this  body.  Believe  it 
therefore  existing  still,  though  it  be  still  unseen.  How  quickly 
would  the  honors  of  illustrious  men  perish  after  death,  if  their 
souls  performed  nothing  to  preserve  their  fame  ?  For  my  own 
part,  I  could  never  think  that  the  soul,  while  in  a  mortal  body, 
lives,  but  when  departed  from  it  dies  ;  or  that  its  consciousness 
is  lost,  when  it  is  discharged  out  of  an  unconscious  habitation. 
But  when  it  is  freed  from  all  corporeal  alliance,  it  is  then  that 
it  truly  exists." 

Since,  then,  the  idea  of  a  future  existence  was  universal,  it 
may  be  asked,  what  new  doctrine  does  the  New  Testament  con- 
tain? I  answer,  that  of  corrupting  the  theory  of  the  ancient 


232  REPLY   TO  THE 

theologists,  by  annexing  to  it  the  heavy  and  gloomy  doctrine  of 
the  resurrection  of  the  body. 

As  to  the  resurrection  of  the  body,  whether  the  same  body 
or  another,  it  is  a  miserable  conceit,  fit  only  to  be  preached  to 
man  as  an  animal.  It  is  not  worthy  to  be  called  doctrine. 
Such  an  idea  never  entered  the  brain  of  any  visionary  but 
those  of  the  Christian  church; — yet  it  is  in  this  that  the 
novelty  of  the  New  Testament  consists.  All  the  other  matters 
serve  but  as  props  to  this,  and  those  props  are  most  wretchedly 
put  together. 

MIRACLES. 

The  Christian  church  is  full  of  miracles.  In  one  of  the 
churches  of  Brabant,  they  show  a  number  of  cannon  I. alls, 
which,  they  say,  the  virgin  Mary  in  some  former  war,  caught 
in  her  muslin  apron  as  they  oam<?  roaring  out  of  the  cannon's 
mouth,  to  prevent  their  hurting  the  saints  of  her  favorite 
army.  She  does  no  such  feats  now-a-days.  Perhaps  the  reason 
is,  that  the  infidels  have  taken  away  her  muslin  apron.  They 
show  also,  between  L'lontmartre  and  the  village  of  St.  Denis, 
several  places  whpre  they  say  St.  Denis  stopt  with  his  head  in 
his  hands  after  it  had  been  cut  off  at  Montmartre.  The  Protes- 
tants will  call  'Ihosi'  things  lies ;  and  where  is  the  proof  that  all 
the  other  things  railed  miracles  are  not  as  great  lies  as  those. 

[There  appears  to  be  an  omission  here  in  the  copy.] 

Christ,  say  those-  Cabalists,  came  in  ihejulness  of  time.  And 
pray  what  is  th<-  fulness  of  time?  The  words  admit  of  no  idea. 
They  are  perfectly  Cabalistical.  Time  is  a  word  invented  to 
describe  to  our  conception  a  greater  or  less  portion  of  eternity. 
It  may  be  a  minute,  a  portion  of  eternity  measured  by  the  vi- 
bration of  a  pendulum  of  a  certain  length  ; — it  may  be  a  day, 
a  year,  a  hundred,  or  a  thousand  years,  or  any  other  quantity. 
Those  portions  are  only  greater  or  less  comparatively. 

The  word  fulness  applies  not  to  any  of  them.  The  idea  of 
fulness  of  time  cannot  be  conceived.  A  woman  with  child  and 
ready  for  delivery,  as  Mary  was  when  Christ  was  born,  may  be 
said  to  have  gone  her  full  time ;  but  it  is  the  woman  that  is 
full,  not  time. 

It  may  also  be  said  figuratively,  in  certain  cases,  that  the 
times  are  full  of  events ;  but  time  itself  is  incapable  of  being 


BISHOP  OF   LLANDAFF.  2-*>3 

full  of  itself.     Ye  hypocrites !  learn  to  speak  intelligible  lan- 
guage. 

Iv  happened  to  be  a  time  of  peace  when  they  say  f'hrist  wan 
born  ;  and  what  then?  There  had  been  many  su.-h  intervals  j 
a.nd  have  been  many  such  since.  Time  was  no  fuller  in  »uy  of 
them  than  in  the  other.  If  he  were  he  would  bo  (oiler  QOM 
than  he  over  was  before.  If  he  was  full  then  be  mast  be 
bursting  now.  But  peace  or  war  have  relation  to  circum 
stances,  and  not  to  time;  and  those  Cabalists  would  tx1  at  aa 
much  loss  to  make  out  any  meaning  to  fulness  of  eircum 
stances,  as  to  fulness  of  time  :  and  if  they  could,  it  would  be 
fatal ;  for  fulness  of  circumstances  would  mean,  when  there  are 
no  more  circumstances  to  happen ;  and  fulness  of  time  when 
there  is  no  more  time  to  follow. 

Christ,  therefore,  like  every  other  person,  was  neither  in  the 
fulness  of  one  nor  the  other. 

But  though  we  cannot  conceive  the  idea  of  fulness  of  time, 
because  we  cannot  have  conception  of  a  time  when  there  shall 
be  no  time ;  nor  of  fulness  of  circumstances,  because  we  can- 
not conceive  a  state  of  existence  to  be  without  circumstances ; 
we  can  often  see,  after  a  thing  is  past,  if  any  cicourastance, 
necessary  to  give  the  utmost  activity  and  success  '-o  that  thing, 
was  wanting  at  the  time  that  thing  took  place.  If  cxioh  a  cir- 
cumstance was  wanting,  we  may  be  cero  'n  t"  .*i  '-he  thing  which 
took  place,  was  not  a  thing  of  God'*  uicMUiir-gj  w'tose  work  is 
always  perfect,  and  his  means  perfect  iii«;aus.  They  tell  us  that 
Christ  was  the  Son  of  God  ;  in  that  cato,  he  vrouM  havo  known 
everything ;  and  he  came  upon  earth  to  make  known  the  will 
of  God  to  man  throughout  the  whole  earth,  [f  tiua  had  n«wi. 
true,  Christ  would  have  known  and  would  havp  bemi  hnminhcd 
with  all  the  possible  means  of  doing  it ,  and  would  have  in- 
structed mankind,  or  at  least  his  apostles,  in  the  use  of  such  cf 
the  means  as  they  could  use  themselves  to  facilitate  die  accom- 
plishment of  the  mission  ;  consequently  he  would  have  instruc- 
ted them  in  the  art  of  printing,  for  the  press  is  the  tongue  of 
the  world ;  and  without  which,  his  or  their  preaching  was  less 
than  a  whistle  compared  to  thunder.  Since,  then,  he  did  not 
do  this,  he  had  not  the  means  necessary  to  the  mission ;  and 
consequently  had  not  the  mission. 

They  tell  us  in  the  book  of  Acts,  chap,  ii.,  a  very  stupid 
story  of  the  apostles'  having  the  gift  of  tongues  :  and  cloven 
tongues  of  fire  descended  and  sat  upon  each  of  them.  Perhaps 


234  REPLY  TO  TIIE 

it  was  this  story  of  cloven  tongues  that  gave  rise  to  the  notion 
of  slitting  Jackdaws'  tongues  to  make  them  talk.  Be  that  how- 
ever as  it  may,  the  gift  of  tongues,  even  if  it  were  true,  would 
be  but  of  little  use  without  the  art  of  printing.  I  can  sit  in 
my  chamber,  as  I  do  while  writing  this,  and  by  the  aid  of  print- 
ing, can  send  the  thoughts  I  am  writing  through  the  greatest 
part  of  Europe,  to  the  East  Indies,  and  over  all  North  America, 
in  a  few  months.  Jesus  Christ  and  his  apostles  could  not  do 
this.  They  had  not  the  means,  and  the  want  of  means  detects 
the  pretended  mission. 

There  are  three  modes  of  communication.  Speaking,  writ- 
ing and  printing.  The  first  is  exceedingly  limited.  A  man's 
voice  can  be  heard  but  a  few  yards  of  distance ;  and  his  person 
can  be  but  in  one  place. 

Writing  is  much  more  extensive ;  but  the  thing  written  can- 
not be  multiplied  but  at  great  expense,  and  the  multiplication 
will  be  slow  and  incorrect.  Were  there  no  other  means  of  cir- 
culating what  priests  call  the  word  of  God  (the  Old  and  New 
Testament)  than  by  writing  copies,  those  copies  could  not  be 
purchased  at  less  than  forty  pounds  sterling  each ;  conse- 
quently but  few  people  could  purchase  them,  while  the  writers 
could  scarcely  obtain  a  livelihood  by  it.  "But  the  art  of  print- 
ing changes  ail  the  cusvs,  and  opens  a  scene  as  vast  as  the 
world.  It  gives  to  man  a  sort  of  divine  attribute.  It  gives  to 
him  mental  omnipresence,  lie  can  be  everywhere  and  at  the 
same  instant ;  for  wherever  lie  is  road  he  is  mentally  there. 

The  case  applies  not  only  against  the  pretending  mission  of 
Christ  and  his  apostles,  but  against  everything  that  priests 
call  the  word  of  God,  and  against  all  those  who  protend  to  deli- 
ver it  ;  for  had  God  ever  delivered  any  verbal  word,  he  would 
have  taught  the  means  of  communicating  it.  The  one  without 
the  other  is  inconsistent  with  the  wisdom  we  conceive  of  the 
Creator. 

The  third  chapter  of  Genesis,  verse  21,  tells  us  that  God  made 
coats  of  skins  and  clothed  Adam  and  Eve.  It  was  infinitely 
more  important  that  man  should  be  taught  the  art  of  printing, 
than  that  Adam  should  be  taught  to  make  a  pair  of  leather 
breeches,  or  his  wife  a  petticoat. 

There  is  another  matter,  equally  striking  and  important,  that 
connects  itself  with  those  observations  against  this  pretended 
word  of  God,  this  manufactured  book,  called  Revealed  Religion. 

We  know  that  whatever  is  of  God's  doing  is  unalterable  by  man 


BISHOP  OF  LLANDAFF.  235 

beyond  the  laws  which  the  Creator  has  ordained.  We  cannot 
make  a  tree  grow  with  the  root  in  the  air  and  the  fruit  in  the 
ground  ;  we  cannot  make  iron  into  gold  noi  gold  into  iron  ;  we 
cannot  make  rays  of  light  shine  forth  rays  of  darkness,  nor 
darkness  shine  forth  light.  If  there  were  such  a  thing,  as  a 
word  of  God,  it  would  possess  the  same  properties  which  all  hia 
other  works  do.  It  would  resist  destructive  alteration.  But 
we  see  that  the  book  which  they  call  the  word  of  God  has  not 
this  property.  That  book  says,  Genesis,  chap.  i.  verse  27,  "So 
God  created  man  in  his  own  image  /'  but  the  printer  can  make 
it  say,  So  man  created  God  in  his  own  image.  The  words  are  pas- 
sive to  every  transposition  of  them,  or  can  be  annihilated  and 
others  put  in  their  places.  This  is  not  the  case  with  anything 
that  is  of  God's  doing  ;  and,  therefore,  this  book,  called  the  word 
of  God,  tried  by  the  same  universal  rule  which  every  other  of 
God's  works  within  our  reach  can  be  tried  by,  proves  itself  to  be 
a  forgery. 

The  bishop  says,  that  "  miracles  are  a  proper  proof  of  a  di- 
vine mission."  Admitted.  But  we  know  that  men,  and  espe- 
cially priests,  can  tell  lies  and  call  them  miracles.  It  is  there- 
fore necessary,  that  the  thing  called  a  miracle  be  proved  to  be 
tme,  and  also  to  be  miraculous ;  before  it  can  be  admitted  as 
proof  of  the  thing  called  revelation. 

The  bishop  must  be  a  bad  logician  not  to  know  that  one  doubt- 
ful thing  cannot  be  admitted  as  proof  that  another  doubtful 
thing  is  true.  It  would  be  like  attempting  to  prove  a  liar  not 
to  be  a  liar  by  the  evidence  of  another,  who  is  as  great  a  liar  as 
himself. 

Though  Jesus  Christ,  by  being  ignorant  of  the  art  of  printing, 
shows  he  had  not  the  means  necessary  to  a  divine  mission, 
and  consequently  had  no  such  mission  ;  it  does  not  follow  that 
if  he  had  known  that  art,  the  divinity  of  what  they  call  his 
mission  would  be  proved  thereby,  any  more  than  it  proved  the 
divinity  of  the  man  who  invented  printing.  Something  there- 
fore beyond  printing,  even  if  he  had  known  it,  was  necessary  as 
a  miracle,  to  have  proved  that  what  he  delivered  was  the  word 
of  God  ;  and  this  was  that  the  book  in  which  that  word  should 
be  contained,  which  is  now  called  the  Old  and  New  Testament, 
should  possess  the  miraculous  property,  distinct  from  all  human 
books,  of  resisting  alteration.  This  would  be  not  only  a  miracle, 
but  an  ever-existing  and  universal  miracle ;  whereas,  those  which 
they  tell  us  of,  even  if  they  had  been  true,  w«re  momentary  and 


236  REPLY  TO  THE  BISHOP  OF  LLANDAFF. 

local ;  they  would  leave  no  trace  behind,  after  the  lapse  of  a 
few  years,  of  having  ever  existed  ;  but  this  would  prove,  in  all 
ages  and  in  all  places,  the  book  to  be  divine  and  not  human  ; 
as  effectually,  and  as  conveniently,  as  aquafortis  proves  gold  to 
be  gold  by  not  being  capable  of  acting  upon  it ;  and  detects  all 
other  metals  and  all  counterfeit  composition,  by  dissolving  them. 
Since  then  the  only  miracle  capable  of  every  proof  is  wanting, 
and  which  everything  that  is  of  a  divine  origin  possesses  ;  all 
the  tales  of  miracles  with  which  the  Old  and  New  Testament 
are  filled,  are  fit  only  for  impostors  to  preach  and  fools  to  believe. 


LETTER  TO  MR.   ERSKINE.  237 


LETTER  TO  ME.  EESKINEJ 


OP  all  the  tyrannies  that  afflict  mankind,  tyranny  in  religion 
is  the  worst;  every  other  species  of  tyranny  is  limited  to  the 
•world  we  live  in;  but  this  attempts  a  stride  beyond  the  grave, 
and  seeks  to  pursue  us  into  eternity.  It  is  there  and  not  here 
— it  is  to  God  and  not  to  man — it  is  to  a  heavenly  and  not  to 
an  earthly  tribunal  that  we  are  to  account  for  our  belief ;  if 
then  we  believe  falsely  and  dishonorably  of  the  Creator,  and 
that  belief  is  forced  upon  us,  as  far  as  force  can  operate  by 
human  laws  and  human  tribunals, — on  whom  is  the  criminality 
of  that  belief  to  fall  1  on  those  who  impose  it,  or  on  those  on 
whom  it  is  imposed  ? 

A  bookseller  of  the  name  of  Williams  has  been  prosecuted 
in  London  on  a  charge  of  blasphemy,  for  publishing  a  book 
entitled  the  "Age  of  .Reason."  Blasphemy  is  a  word  of  vast 
sound,  but  .equivocal  and  almost  indefinite  signification,  unless 
we  confine  it  to  the  simple  idea  of  hurting  or  injuring  the 
reputation  of  anyone,  which  was  its  original  meaning.  As  a 
word,  it  existed  before  Christianity  existed,  being  a  Greek 
word,  or  Greek  anglified,  as  all  the  etymological  dictionaries 
will  show. 

But  behold  how  various  and  contradictory  has  been  the  signi- 
fication and  application  of  this  equivocal  word.  Socrates,  who 
lived  more  than  four  hundred  years  before  the  Christian  era, 
was  convicted  of  blasphemy,  for  preaching  against  the  belief  of 
a  plurality  of  gods,  and  for  preaching  the  belief  of  one  god,  and 
was  condemned  to  suffer  death  by  poison.  Jesus  Christ  was 
convicted  of  blasphemy  under  the  Jewish  law,  and  was  cruci- 
fied. Calling  Mahomet  an  impostor  would  be  blasphemy  in 
Turkey;  and  denying  the  infallibility  of  the  Pope,  and  the 
Ohurch,  would  be  blasphemy  at  Rome.  What  then  is  to  be 

*  Mr.  Paine  has  evidently  incorporated  into  this  Letter  a  portion  of  his 
answer  to  Bishop  Watson's  "Apology  for  the  Bible;"  as  in  a  chapter  of 
that  work,  treating  of  the  Book  of  Grenesis,  he  expressly  refers  to  nis  re- 
marks, in  a  preceding  part  of  the  same,  on  the  two  accounts  of  the  creation 
-contained  in  that  book ;  which  is  included  in  this  letter. 


238  LETTER  TO  MR.   ERSKINE. 

understood  by  this  word  blasphemy  1  We  see  that  in  the  case 
of  Socrates  truth  was  condemned  as  blasphemy.  Are  we  sure 
that  truth  is  not  blasphemy  in  the  present  day  ?  Woe,  how- 
ever, be  to  those  who  make  it  so,  whoever  they  may  be. 

A  book  called  the  Bible  has  been  voted  by  men,  and  decreed 
by  human  laws  to  be  the  word  of  God ;  and  the  disbelief  of  this 
is  called  blasphemy.  But  if  the  Bible  be  not  the  word  of  God, 
it  is  the  laws  and  the  execution  of  them  that  is  blasphemy,  and 
not  the  disbelief.  Strange  stories  are  told  of  the  Creator  in 
that  book.  He  is  represented  as  acting  under  the  influence  of 
every  human  passion,  even  of  the  most  malignant ,  kind.  If 
these  stories  are  false,  we  err  in  believing  them  to  be  true,  and 
ought  not  to  believe  them.  It  is,  therefore,  a  duty  which  every 
man  owes  to  himself,  and  reverentially  to  his  Maker,  to  ascer- 
tain, by  every  possible  inquiry,  whether  there  be  sufficient 
evidence  to  believe  them  or  not. 

My  own  opinion  is,  decidedly,  that  the  evidence  does  not 
warrant  the  belief,  and  that  we  sin  in  forcing  that  belief  upon 
ourselves  and  upon  others.  In  saying  this,  I  have  no  other 
object  in  view  than  truth.  But  that  I  may  not  be  accused  of 
resting  upon  bare  assertion  with  respect  to  the  equivocal  state 
of  the  Bible,  I  will  produce  an  example,  and  I  wi]l  not  pick 
and  cull  the  Bible  for  the  purpose.  I  will  go  fairly  to  the 
case:  I  will  take  the  two  first  chapters  of  Genesis  as  they 
stand,  and  show  from  thence  the  truth  of  what  I  say,  that  is, 
that  the  evidence  does  not  warrant  the  belief  that  the  Bible  is 
the  word  of  God. 


CHAPTER  I. 

1.  In  the  beginning  God  created  the  heavens  and  the  earth. 

2.  And  the  earth  was  without  form  and  void,  and  darkness 
was  upon  the  face  of  the  deep;  and  the  spirit  of  God  moved 
upon  the  face  of  the  waters. 

3.  And  God  said,  Let  there  be  light ;  and  there  was  light 

4.  And  God  saw  the  light,  that  it  was  good  ;  and  God  divided 
the  light  from  the  darkness. 

6.  And  God  called  the  light  day,  and  the  darkness  he  called 
night :  and  the  evening  and  the  morning  were  the  first  day. 

6.  U  And  God  said,  Let  there  be  a  firmament  in  the  midst  of 
the  waters,  and  let  it  divide  the  waters  from  the  waters. 

7.  And  God  made  the  firmament,  and  divided  the  waters 


LETTER  TO  MR.   ERSKINE.  239 

which  were  under  the  firmament,  from  the  waters  which  were 
above  the  firmament :  and  it  was  so. 

8.  And  God  called  the  firmament  heaven :  and  the  evening 
and  the  morning  were  the  second  day. 

9.  H  And  God  said,  Let  the  waters  under  the  heaven  he 
gathered  together  unto  one  place,  and  let  the  dry  land  appear : 
and  it  was  so. 

10.  And  God  called  the  dry  land  earth,  and  the  gathering 
together  of  the  waters  called  he  seas,  and  God  saw  that(it  was 
good. 

11.  And  God  said,  Let  the  earth  bring  forth  grass,  the  herb, 
yielding  seed,  and  the  fruit-tree  yielding  fruit  after  his  kind, 
whose  seed  is  in  itself,  upon  the  earth  :  and  it  was  so. 

12.  And  the  earth  brought  forth  grass,  and  herb  yielding 
seed  after  his  kind,  and  the  tree  yielding  fruit,  whose  seed  was 
in  itself,  after  his  kind :  and  God  saw  that  it  was  good. 

13.  And  the  evening  and  the  morning  were  the  third  day. 

14.  11  And  God  said,  Let  there  be  lights  in  the  firmament  of 
the  heaven,  to  divide  the  day  from  the  night :  and  let  them  be 
for  signs,  and  for  seasons,  and  for  days,  and  years. 

15.  And  let  them  be  for  lights  in  the  firmament  of  the  heaven, 
to  give  light  upon  the  earth  :  and  it  was  so. 

16.  And  God  made  two  great  lights  ;  the  greater  light  to 
rule  the  day,  and  the  lesser  light  to  rule  the  night ;  he  made  the 
stars  also. 

1 7.  And  God  set  them  in  the  firmament  of  the  heaven,  to 
give  light  upon  the  earth, 

18.  And  to  rule  over  the  day  and  over  the  night,  and  to 
divide  the  light  from  the  darkness;  and  God  saw  that  it  was 
good. 

19.  And  the  evening  and  the  morning  were  the  fourth  day. 

20.  U  And  God  said,  Let  the  waters  bring  forth  abundantly 
the  moving  creature  that  hath  life,  and  fowl  that  may  fly  above 
the  earth  in  the  open  firmament  of  heaven. 

21.  And  God  created  great  whales,  and  every  living  creature 
that  moveth,  which  the  waters  brought  forth  abundantly  after 
their  kind,  and  every  winged  fowl  after  his  kind  :  and  God  saw 
that  it  was  good. 

22.  And  God  blessed  them,  saying,  Be  fruitful,  and  multiply, 
and  fill  the  waters  in  the  seas,  and  let  fowl  multiply  in  the  earth. 

23.  And  the  evening  and  the  morning  were  the  fifth  day. 

24.  U  And  God  said,  Let  the  earth  bring  forth  the  living 


240  LETTER  TO  MR.   ERSKINlt 

creature  after  his  kind,  cattle  and  creeping  thing  and  beast  of 
the  earth  after  his  kind  :  and  it  was  so. 

25.  And  God  made  the  beast  of  the  earth  after  his  kind,  and 
cattle  after  their  kind,  and  every  thing  that  creepeth  upon  the 
earth  after  his  kind  :  and  God  saw  that  it  was  good. 

26.  51  And  God  said,  Let  us  make  man  in  our  image,  after 
our  likeness :  and  let  them  have  dominion  over  the  fish  of  the 
sea,  and  over  the  fowl  of  the  air,  and  over  the  cattle,  and  over 
all  the  earth,  and  over  every  creeping  thing  that  creepeth  upon 
the  earth. 

27.  So  God  created  man  in  his  own  image,  in  the  image  of 
God  created  he  him  :  male  and  female  created  he  them. 

28.  And  God  blessed  them,  and  God  said  unto  them,  Be  fruit- 
ful, and  multiply,  and  replenish  the  earth,  and  subdue  it ;  and 
have  dominion  over  the  fish  of  the  sea,  and  over  the  fowl  of  tJie 
air,  and  over  every  thing  that  moveth  upon  t/ie  earth. 

29.  51  And  God  said,  Behold,  I  have  given  you  every  herb 
bearing  seed,  which  is  upon  the  face  of  all  the  earth,  and  every 
tree,  in  which  is  the  fruit  of  a  tree  yielding  seed :  to  you  it 
shall  be  for  meat. 

30.  And  to  every  beast  of  the  earth,  and  to  every  fowl  of 
the  air,  and  to  every  thing  that  creepeth  upon  the  earth,  wherein 
there  is  life,  I  have  given  every  green  herb  for  meat ;  and  it 


31.  And  God  saw  every  thing  that  he  had  made,  and  behold 
it  was  very  good.  And  the  evening  and  the  morning  were  the 
sixth  day. 

CHAPTER  II. 

1.  Thus  the  heavens  and  the  earth  were  finished,  and  all  the 
host  of  them. 

2.  And  on  the  seventh  day  God  ended  his  work  which  he  had 
made,  and  he  rested  on  the  seventh  day  from  all  his  work  which 
he  had  made. 

3.  And  God  blessed  the  seventh  day  and  sanctified  it :  be- 
cause that  in  it  he  had  rested  from  all  his  work,  which  God 
created  and  made. 

4.  51  These  are  the  generations  of  the  heavens  and  of  the 
earth,  when  they  were  created  ;  in  the  day  that  the  Lord  God 
made  the  earth  and  the  heavens. 


LETTER  TO  MR.   ERSKINK.  241 

5.  And  every  plant  of  the  field,  before  it  was  in  the  earth, 
and  every  herb  of  the  field,  before  it  grew ;  for  the  Lord  God 
had  not  caused  it  to  rain  upon  the  earth,  and  there  was  not  a 
man  to  till  the  ground. 

6.  But  there  went  up  a  mist  from  the  earth,  and  watered  the 
whole  face  of  the  ground. 

7.  And  the  Lord  God  formed  man  of  the  dust  of  the  ground,, 
and  breathed  into  his  nostrils  the  breath  of  life ;  and  man  be- 
came a  living  soul. 

8.  And  the  Lord  God  planted  a  garden  eastward  of  Eden  ; 
and  there  he  put  the  man  whom  he  had  formed. 

9.  And  out  of  the  ground  made  the  Lord  God  to  grow  every 
tree  that  is  pleasant  to  the  sight,  and  good  for  food  :  the  tree 
of  life  also  in  the  midst  of  the  garden,  and  the  tree  of  know- 
ledge of  good  and  evil. 

10.  And  a  river  went  out  of  Eden  to  water  the  garden :  and 
from  thence  it  was  parted,  and  became  into  four  heads. 

11.  The  name  of  the  first  is  Pison  :  that  is  it  which  compas- 
seth  the  whole  land  of  Havilah,  where  there  is  gold. 

12.  And  the  gold  of  that  land  is  good :  there  is  bdellium  and 
the  onyx-stone. 

13.  And  the  name  of  the  second  river  is  Gihon :  the  same  is 
it  that  compasseth  the  whole  land  of  Ethiopia. 

14.  And  the  name  of  the  third  river  is  Heddekel :  that  is  it 
which  goeth  toward  the  east  of  Assyria.     And  the  fourth  river 
is  Euphrates. 

15.  And  the  Lord  God  took  the  man,  and  put  him  into  the 
garden  of  Eden,  to  dress  it  and  to  keep  it. 

16.  And  the  Lord  God  commanded  the  man,  saying,  of  every 
tree  of  the  garden  thou  mayest  freely  eat : 

17.  But  of  the  tree  of  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  thou 
shalt  not  eat  of  it ;  for  in  the  day  that  thou  eatest  thereof,  thou 
shalt  surely  die. 

18.  H  And  the  Lord  God  said,  it  is  not  good  that  the  man 
should  be  alone :  I  will  make  him  an  help  meet  for  him. 

19.  And  out  of  the  ground  the  Lord  God  formed  every  beast 
of  the  field,  and  every  fowl  of  the  air,  and  brought  them  unto 
Adam,  to  see  what  he  would  call  them  ;  and  whatsoever  Adam 
called  every  living  creature,  that  was  the  name  thereof. 

20.  And  Adam  gave  names  to  all  cattle,  and  to  the  fowl  of 
the  air ;  and  to  every  beast  of  the  field ;  but  for  Adam  there 
was  not  found  an  help  meet  for  him. 

M 


242  LETTER  TO   MR.   ERSKINE. 

21.  And  the  Lord  God  caused  a  deep  sleep  to  fall  upon  Adam, 
and  he  slept ;  and  he  took  one  of  his  ribs,  and  closed  up  the 
flesh  instead  thereof. 

22.  And  the  rib  which  the  Lord  God  had  taken  from  man, 
made  he  a  woman,  and  brought  her  unto  the  man. 

23.  And  Adam  said,  this  is  now  bone  of  my  bones  and  flesh 
of  my  flesh ;  she  shall  be  called  woman,  because  she  was  taken 
out  of  man. 

24.  Therefore  shall  a  man  leave  his  father  and  his  mother, 
and  shall  cleave  unto  his  wife ;  and  they  shall  be  one  flesh. 

25.  And  they  were  both  naked,  the  man  and  his  wife,  and 
were  not  ashamed. 

These  two  chapters  are  called  the  Mosaic  account  of  the  crea- 
tion ;  and  we  are  told,  nobody  knows  by  whom,  that  Moses  was 
instructed  by  God  to  write  that  account. 

It  has  happened  that  every  nation  of  people  has  been  world- 
makers  ;  and  each  makes  the  world  to  begin  his  own  way,  as  if 
they  had  all  been  brought  up,  as  Hudibras  says,  to  the  trade. 
There  are  hundreds  of  different  opinions  and  traditions  how  the 
world  began.*  My  business,  however,  in  this  place,  is  only 
with  those  two  chapters. 

*  In  this  world-making  trade,  man,  of  course,  has  held  a  conspicuous  place ; 
And,  for  the  gratification  of  the  curious  inquirer,  the  editor  subjoins  two  speci- 
mens of  the  opinions  of  learned  men,  in  regard  to  the  manner  of  his  formation, 
and  of  his  subsequent  fall.  The  first  he  extracts  from  the  Talmud,  a  work 
containing  the  Jewish  traditions,  the  rabbinical  constitutions,  and  explica- 
tion of  the  law  ;  and  is  of  great  authority  among  the  Jews.  It  was  com- 
posed by  certain  learned  rabbins,  comprehends  twelve  bulky  folios,  and 
forty  years  are  said  to  have  been  consumed  in  its  compilation.  In  fact, 
it  is  deemed  to  contain  the  whole  body  of  divinity  for  the  Jewish  nation. 
Although  the  Scriptures  tell  us  that  the  Lord  God  "formed  man  of  the  dust  of 
the  ground,  they  do  not  explain  the  manner  in  which  it  was  done,  and  these 
doctors  supply  the  deficiency  as  follows  :— 

"Adam's  body  was  made  of  the  earth  of  Babylon,  his  head  of  the  land  of 
Israel,  his  other  members  of  other  parts  of  the  world.  R.  Meir  thought  he 
was  compact  of  the  earth,  gathered  out  of  the  whole  earth  ;  as  it  is  written, 
thine  eyes  did  see  my  substance.  Now  it  is  elsewhere  written,  the  eyes  of  the 
Lord  are  over  all  the  earth.  R.  Aha  expressly  marks  the  twelve  hours  in 
which  his  various  parts  were  formed.  His  stature  was  from  one  end  of  the 
•world  to  the  other  ;  and  it  was  for  his  transgression  that  the  Creator,  laying 
his  hand  in  anger  on  him,  lessened  him  ;  for  before,  says  R.  Eleazer,  with 
his  hand  he  reached  the  firmament.  R.  Jehuda  thinks  his  sin  was  heresy  ; 
but  R.  Isaac  thinks  it  was  nourishing  his  foreskin. " 

The  Mahometan  savans  give  the  following  account  of  the  same  transac- 
tion :— 

"When  God  wished  to  create  man.  he  sent  the  angel  Gabriel  to  take  ft 


LETTER  TO  MR.   ERSKINE.  243 

I  begin  then  by  saying,  that  those  two  chapters,  instead  of 
containing,  as  has  been  believed,  one  continued  account  of  the 

handful  of  each  of  the  seven  beds  which  composed  the  earth.  But  when  th« 
latter  heard  the  order  of  God,  she  felt  much  alarmed,  and  requested  the 
heavenly  mesenger  to  represent  to  God,  that  as  the  creature  he  was  about 
to  form  might  chance  to  rebel  one  day  against  him,  this  would  be  the  means 
of  bringing  upon  herself  the  divine  malediction.  God,  however,  far  from 
listening  to  this  request,  despatched  two  other  angels,  Michael  and  Azrael, 
to  execute  his  will ;  but  they,  moved  with  compassion,  were  prevailed  upon 
again  to  lay  the  complaints  of  the  earth  at  the  feet  of  her  author.  Then 
God  confined  the  execution  of  his  commands  to  the  formidable  Azrael  alone, 
•who,  regardless  of  all  the  earth  might  say,  violently  tore  from  her  bosom 
seven  handf uls  from  her  various  strata,  and  carried  them  into  Arabia,  where 
the  work  of  creation  was  to  be  completed.  As  to  Azrael,  God  was  so  well 
pleased  with  the  decisive  manner  in  which  he  had  acted,  that  he  gave  him 
the  office  of  separating  the.soul  from  the  body,  whence  he  is  called  the  AngeJ 
of  Death. 

'  Meanwhile,  the  angels  having  kneaded  this  earth,  God  moulded  it  with 
liis  own  hands,  and  left  it  sometime  that  it  might  get  dry.  The  angels  de- 
lighted  to  gaze  upon  the  lifeless,  but  beautiful  mass,  with  the  exception  of 
Eblis,  or  Lucifer,  who,  bent  upon  evil,  struck  it  upon  the  stomach,  which 
giving  a  hollow  sound,  he  said,  since  this  creature  will  be  hollow,  it  will 
often  need  being  tilled,  and  will  be,  therefore,  exposed  to  pregnant  tempta- 
tions. Upon  this,  he  asked  the  angels  how  they  would  act  if  God  wished  to 
render  them  dependent  npon  this  sovereign  which  he  was  about  to  give  to 
the  earth.  They  readily  answered  that  they  would  obey  ;  but  though  Eblis 
did  not  openly  dissent,  he  resolved  within  himself  that  he  would  not  follow 
their  example. 

' '  After  the  body  of  the  first  man  had  been  properly  prepared,  God  ani- 
mated it  with  an  intelligent  soul,  and  clad  him  in  splendid  and  marvellous 
garments,  suited  to  the  dignity  of  this  favored  being.  He  now  commanded 
his  angels  to  fall  prostrate  before  Adam.  All  of  them  obeyed,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  Eblis,  who  was  in  consequence  immediately  expelled  from  heaven, 
and  his  place  given  to  Adam. 

"  The  formation  of  Eve  from  one  of  the  ribs  of  the  first  man,  is  the  same 
.as  that  recorded  in  the  Bible,  as  is  also  the  order  given  to  the  father  of  man- 
kind, not  to  taste  the  fruit  of  a  particular  tree.  Eblis  seized  this  opportunity 
of  revenge.  Having  associated  the  peacock  and  the  serpent  in  the  enter- 
prise, they  by  their  wily  speeches  at  length  persuaded  Adam  to  become 
guilty  of  disobedience.  But  no  sooner  had  they  touched  the  forbidden  fruit, 
than  their  garments  dropped  on  the  ground,  and  the  sight  of  their  nakedness 
covered  them  both  with  shame  and  with  confusion.  They  made  a  covering 
for  their  body  with  fig-leaves  -,  but  they  were  both  immediately  condemned 
to  labor,  and  to  die,  and  hurled  down  from  Paradise. 

"  Adam  fell  upon  the  mountain  of  Sarendip,  in  the  Island  of  Ceylon, 
where  a  mountain  is  called  by  his  name  to  the  present  day.  Eve  being  sepa- 
rated from  her  spouse  in  her  fall,  alighted  on  the  spot  where  China  now 
stands,  and  Eblis  fell  not  far  from  the  same  spot.  As  to  the  peacock  and  the 
snake,  the  former  dropped  in  Hindostan  and  the  latter  in  Arabia.  Adam 
soon  feeling  the  enormity  of  his  fault,  implored  the  mercy  of  God,  who,  re- 
lenting, sent  down  his  angels  from  heaven  with  a  tabernacle,  which  they 
placed  on  the  spot  where  Abraham,  at  a  subsequent  period,  built  the  temple 
of  Mecca.  Gabriel  instructed  him  in  the  rites  and  ceremonies  performed 
about  the  sanctuary,  in  order  that  he  might  obtain  the  forgiveness  of  his 
offence,  and  afte-.v'ards  led  him  to  the  mountain  of  Ararat,  where  he  met 
Eve,  from  whom  ae  had  been  now  separated  above  two  hundred  years," 


244  LETTER  TO  MR.   ERSKINB. 

creation,  written  by  Moses,  contain  two  different  and  contra 
dictory  stories  of  a  creation,  made  by  two  different  persons, 
and  written  in  two  different  styles  of  expression.  The  evidence 
that  shows  this  is  so  clear,  when  attended  to  without  prejudice, 
that,  did  we  meet  with  the  same  evidence  in  any  Arabic  or 
Chinese  account  of  a  creation,  we  should  not  hesitate  in  pro 
nouncing  it  a  forgery. 

I  proceed  to  distinguish  the  two  stories  from  each  other. 
The  first  story  begins  at  the  first  verse  of  the  first  chapter, 
and  ends  at  the  end  of  the  third  verse  of  the  second  chapter ; 
for  the  adverbial  conjunction,  THUS,  with  which  the  second 
chapter  begins  (as  the  reader  will  see),  connects  itself  to  the 
last  verse  of  the  first  chapter,  and  those  three  verses  belong  tor 
and  make  the  conclusion  of  the  first  story. 

The  second  story  begins  at  the  fourth  verse  of  the  second 
chapter,  and  ends  with  that  chapter.  Those  two  stories  have 
been  confused  into  one,  by  cutting  off  the  three  last  verses  of 
the  first  story,  and  throwing  them  to  the  second  chapter. 

I  go  now  to  show  that  those  .two  stories  have  been  written 
by  two  different  persons. 

From  the  first  verse  of  the  first  chapter  to  the  end  of  the 
third  verse  of  the  second  chapter,  which  makes  the  whole  of 
the  first  story,  the  word  GOD  is  used  without  any  epithet  or 
additional  word  conjoined  with  it,  as  the  reader  will  see:  and 
this  style  of  expression  is  invariably  used  throughout  the  whole 
of  this  story,  and  is  repeated  no  less  than  thirty -five  times,  viz., 
"  In  the  beginning  GOD  created  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  and 
the  spirit  of  GOD  moved  on  the  face  of  the  waters,  and  GOD- 
said,  let  there  be  light,  and  GOD  saw  the  light,"  &c.,  <fec. 

But  immediately  from  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  verse  of 
the  second  chapter,  where  the  second  story  begins,  the  style  of 
expression  is  always  the  Lord  God,  and  this  style  of  expression 
is  invariably  used  to  the  end  of  the  chapter,  and  is  repeated 
eleven  times;  in  the  one  it  is  always  GOD,  and  never  the  Lord 
God,  in  the  other  it  is  always  the  Lord  God,  and  never  GOD. 
The  first  story  contains  thirty-four  verses,  and  repeats  the 
single  word  GOD  thirty-five  times.  The  second  story  contains 
twenty-two  verses  and  repeats  the  compound  word  Lord-God 
eleven  times;  this  difference  of  style,  so  often  repeated,  and  so 
uniformly  continued,  shows  that  those  two  chapters,  containing 
two  different  stories,  are  written  by  different  persons.  It  is  the 
same  in  all  different  editions  of  the  Bible,  in  all  the  languages 
I  have  seen. 


LETTER  TO  MR.   ERSKINE.  245 

Having  thus  shown,  from  the  difference  of  style,  that  those 
two  chapters  divided,  as  they  properly  divide  themselves,  at 
the  end  of  the  third  verse  of  the  second  chapter,  are  the  work 
of  two  different  persons,  I  come  to  show,  from  the  contradictory 
matters  they  contain,  that  they  cannot  be  the  work  of  one 
person,  and  are  two  different  stories. 

It  is  impossible,  unless  the  writer  was  a  lunatic,  without 
memory,  that  one  and  the  same  person  could  say,  as  is  said  in 
the  27th  and  28th  verses  of  the  first  chapter — "So  God  created 
man  in  his  own  image,  in  the  image  of  God  created  lie  him; 
male  and  female  created  he  them;  and  God  blessed  them,  and 
God  said  unto  them,  be  fruitful  and  multiply,  and  replenish  the 
earth,  and  subdue  it,  and  have  dominion  over  the  fish  of  the  sea, 
and  over  the  fowls  of  the  air,  and  every  living  thing  that  moveth 
on  the  face  of  the  earth."  It  is,  I  say,  impossible  that  the  same 
person  who  said  this,  could  afterwards  say,  as  is  said  in  the 
second  chapter,  ver.  5,  and  there  was  not  a  man  to  till  the 
ground;  and  then  proceed  in  the  7th  verse  to  give  another 
account  of  the  making  a  man  for  the  first  time,  and  afterwards 
of  the  making  a  woman  out  of  his  rib. 

Again,  one  and  the  same  person  could  not  write,  as  is  written 
in  the  29th  verse  of  the  first  chapter:  "Behold  I  (God)  have 
given  you  every  herb  bearing  seed,  which  is  on  the  face  of  the 
earth  ;  and  every  tree,  in  which  is  the  fruit  of  a  tree  bearing 
seed,  to  you  it  shall  be  for  meat,"  and  afterwards  say,  as  is  said 
in  the  second  chapter,  that  the  Lord  God  planted  a  tree  in  the 
midst  of  a  garden,  and  forbad  man  to  eat  thereof. 

Again,  one  and  the  same  person  could  not  say,  Thus  the  heavens 
and  the  earth  were  finished,  and  all  the  host  of  them,  and  on  the 
seventh  day  God  ended  his  work  which  he  had  made;  and  shortly 
after  set  the  Creator  to  work  again,  to  plant  a  garden,  to  make 
a  man  and  a  woman,  &c.,  as  is  done  in  the  second  chapter. 

Here  are  evidently  two  different  stories  contradicting  each 
other. — According  to  the  first,  the  two  sexes,  the  male  and  the 
female,  were  made  at  the  same  time.  According  to  the  second, 
they  were  made  at  different  times,  the  man  first,  the  woman 
afterwards. — According  to  the  first  story  they  were  to  have 
dominion  over  all  the  earth.  According  to  the  second,  their 
dominion  was  limited  to  a  garden.  How  large  a  garden  it 
could  be  that  one  man  and  one  woman  could  dress  and  keep 
in  order,  I  leave  to  the  prosecutor,  the  judge,  the  jury,  and  Mr. 
Erskine  to  determine. 


246  LETTER  TO   MR.   ERSKINE. 

The  story  of  the  talking  serpent,  and  its  tete-a-tete  with  Eve ; 
the  doleful  adventure  called  the  Fall  of  Man  ;  and  how  he  was 
turned  out  of  his  fine  garden,  and  how  the  garden  was  after- 
wards locked  up  and  guarded  by  a  flaming  sword  (if  any  one 
can  tell  what  a  flaming  sword  is),  belonging  altogether  to  the 
second  story.  They  have  no  connection  with  the  first  story. 
According  to  the  first  there  was  no  garden  of  Eden ;  no  forbid- 
den tree :  the  scene  was  the  whole  earth,  and  the  fruit  of  all  the 
trees  was  allowed  to  be  eaten. 

In  giving  this  example  of  the  strange  state  of  the  Bible,  it 
cannot  be  said  T  have  gone  out  of  my  way  to  seek  it,  for  I  have 
taken  the  beginning  of  the  book ;  nor  can  it  be  said  I  have  made 
more  of  it,  than  it  makes  icself.  That  there  are  two  stories  is  as 
visible  to  the  eye,  when  attended  to,  as  that  there  are  two  chap- 
ters, and  that  they  have  been  written  by  different  persons,  nobody 
knows  by  whom.  If  this  then  is  the  strange  condition  the  begin- 
ning of  the  Bible  is  in,  it  leads  to  a  just  suspicion,  that  the 
other  parts  are  no  better,  and  consequently  it  becomes  every 
man's  duty  to  examine  the  case.  I  have  done  it  for  myself,  and 
am  satisfied  that  the  Bible  is  fabulous, 

Perhaps  I  shall  be  told  in  the  cant-language  of  the  day,  as  I 
have  often  been  told  by  the  Bishop  of  Llandaff  and  others,  of  the 
great  and  laudable  pains  that  many  pious  and  learned  men  have 
taken  to  explain  the  obscure  and  reconcile  the  contradictoiy,  or 
as  they  say,  the  seemingly  contradictory  passages  of  the  Bible. 
It  is  because  the  Bible  needs  such  an  undertaking,  that  is  one 
of  the  first  causes  to  suspect  it  is  NOT  the  word  of  God  ;  this 
single  reflection,  when  carried  home  to  the  mind,  is  in  itself  a 
volume. 

What !  does  not  the  Creator  of  the  Universe,  the  Fountain 
of  all  Wisdom,  the  Origin  of  all  Science,  the  Author 'of  all 
Knowledge,  the  God  of  Order,  and  of  Harmony,  know  how  to 
write  ?  When  we  contemplate  the  vast  economy  of  the  crea- 
tion; when  we  behold  the  unerring  regularity  of  the  visible 
solar  system,  the  perfection  with  which  all  its  several  parts  re- 
volve, and  by  corresponding  assemblage,  form  a  whole  ; — when 
we  launch  our  eye  into  the  boundless  ocean  of  space,  and  see 
ourselves  surrounded  by  innumerable  worlds,  not  one  of  which 
varies  from  its  appointed  place — when  we  trace  the  power  of 
the  Creator,  from  a  mite  to  an  elephant — from  an  atom  to  an 
universe — can  we  suppose  that,  the  mind  that  could  conceive 
such  a  design,  and  *he  power  that  executed  it  with  incomparable 


LETTER  TO   MR.    ERSKINE.  247 

perfection,  cannot  write  without  inconsistency  ;  or,  that  a  boot 
so  written,  can  be  the  work  of  such  a  power  1  The  writings  of 
Thomas  Paine,  even  of  Thomas  Paine,  need  no  commentator 
to  explain,  expound,  arrange,  and  re-arrange  their  several  parts, 
to  render  them  intelligible — he  can  relate  a  fact,  or  write  an 
essay,  without  forgetting  in  one  page  what  he  has  written  in  an- 
other— certainly,  then,  did  the  God  of  all  perfection  condescend 
to  write  or  dictate  a  book,  that  book  would  be  as  perfect  as 
himself  is  perfect ;  the  Bible  is  not  so,  and  it  is  confessedly  not 
so,  by  the  attempts  to  amend  it. 

Perhaps  I  shall  be  told,  that  though  I  have  produced  one 
instance,  I  cannot  produce  another  of  equal  force.  One  is  suf- 
ficient to  call  in  question  the  genuineness  of  authenticity  of  any 
book  that  pretends  to  be  the  word  of  God ;  for  such  a  book 
would,  as  before  said,  be  as  perfect  as  its  author  is  perfect. 

I  will,  however,  advance  only  four  chapters  further  into  the 
the  book  of  Genesis,  and  produce  another  example  that  is  suf- 
ficient to  invalidate  the  story  to  which  it  belongs. 

We  have  all  heard  of  Noah's  Flood  ;  and  it  is  impossible  to 
think  of  the  whole  human  race,  men,  women,  children,  and 
infants  (except  one  family,)  deliberately  drowning,  without  feel- 
ing a  painful  sensation  ;  that  heart  must  be  a  heart  of  flint  that 
can  contemplate  such  a  scene  with  tranquillity.  There  is  no- 
thing in  the  ancient  mythology,  nor  in  the  religion  of  any  people 
we  know  of  upon  the  globe,  that  records  a  sentence  of  their  God, 
or  of  their  Gods,  so  tremendously  severe  and  merciless.  If  the 
story  be  not  true,  we  blasphemously  dishonor  God  by  believing 
it,  and  still  more  so,  in  forcing,  by  laws  and  penalties,  that  be- 
lief upon  others.  I  go  now  to  show,  from  the  face  of  the  story, 
that  it  carries  the  evidence  of  not  being  true. 

I  know  not  if  the  judge,  the  jury,  and  Mr.  Erskine,  who  tried 
and  convicted  Williams,  ever  read  the  Bible,  or  know  anything 
of  its  contents,  and,  therefore,  I  will  state  the  case  precisely. 

There  was  no  such  people  as  Jews  or  Israelites,  in  the  time 
that  Noah  is  said  to  have  lived,  and  consequently  there  was  no 
such  law  as  that  which  is  called  the  Jewish  or  Mosaic  Law.  It 
is  according  to  the  Bible,  more  than  six  hundred  years  from  th*> 
time  the  flood  is  said  to  have  happened,  to  the  time  of  Moses, 
and  consequently  the  time  the  flood  is  said  to  have  happened, 
was  more  than  six  hundred  years  prior  to  the  law,  called  the 
law  of  Moses,  even  admitting  Moses  to  have  been  the  giver  of 
that  law,  of  which  there  is  great  cause  to  doubt. 


248  LETTER  TO   MR.   ERSKINE. 

We  have  here  two  different  epochs,  or  points  of  time ;  that 
of  the  flood,  and  that  of  the  law  of  Moses ;  the  former  more 
than  six  hundred  years  prior  to  the  latter.  But  the  nuiker  of 
the  story  of  the  flood,  whoever  he  was,  has  betrayed  himself  by 
blundering,  for  he  has  reversed  the  order  of  the  times.  He  has 
told  the  story,  as  if  the  law  of  Mos«;s  was  prior  to  the  flood  ; 
for  he  has  made  God  to  say  to  i^oah,  Genesis,  chap.  vii.  ver.  2, 
"  Of  every  clean  beast,  thou  slialt  take  unto  thee  by  sevens, 
male  and  his  female,  and  of  leasts  that  are  not  clean  by  two, 
the  male  and  his  female."  This  is  the  Mosaic  law,  and  could 
only  be  said  after  that  law  was  given,  not  before.  There  was 
no  such  things  as  beasts  clean  and  unclean  in  the  time  of  Noah 
— It  is  nowhere  said  they  were  created  so. — They  were  only 
declared  to  be  so,  as  meats,  by  the  Mosaic  law,  and  that  to  the 
Jews  only,  and  there  was  no  such  people  as  Jews  in  the  time  of 
Noah.  This  is  the  blundering  condition  in  which  this  strange 
story  stands. 

When  we  reflect  on  a  sentence  so  tremendously  severe,  as 
that  of  consigning  the  whole  human  race,  eight  persons  excepted, 
to  deliberate  drowning ;  a  sentence,  which  represents  the  Crea- 
tor in  a  more  merciless  character  than  any  of  those  whom  we 
call  Pagans,  ever  represented  the  Creator  to  be,  under  the  figure 
of  any  of  their  deities,  we  ought  at  least  to  suspend  our  belief 
of  it,  on  a  comparison  of  the  beneficent  character  of  the  Crea- 
tor, with  the  tremendous  severity  of  the  sentence ;  but  when 
we  see  the  story  told  with  such  an  evident  contradiction  of  cir- 
cumstances, we  ought  to  set  it  down  for  nothing  better  than  a 
fable,  told  by  nobody  knows  whom,  and  nobody  knows  when. 

It  is  a  relief  to  the  genuine  and  sensible  soul  of  man  to  find 
the  story  unfounded.  It  frees  us  from  two  painful  sensations 
at  once  j  that  of  having  hard  thoughts  of  the  Creator,  on 
account  of  the  severity  of  the  sentence  ;  and  that  of  sympathis- 
ing in  the  horrid  tragedy  of  a  drowning  world.  He  who  cannot 
feel  the  force  of  what  I  mean,  is  not,  in  my  estimation  of  char- 
acter, worthy  the  name  of  a  human  being. 

I  have  just  said  there  is  great  cause  to  doubt,  if  the  law,  called 
the  law  of  Moses,  was  given  by  Moses ;  the  books  called  the  books 
of  Moses,  which  contained,  among  other  things,  what  is  called 
the  Mosaic  law,  are  put  in  front  of  the  Bible,  in  the  manner  of 
a  constitution,  with  a  history  annexed  to  it.  Had  these  books 
been  written  by  Moses,  they  would  undoubtedly  have  been  the 
oldest  bookr  ir  *V  W«'W«.  and  entitled  to  be  placed  first,  and  the 


LETTER  TO  MR.   ERSKINE.  249 

law  and  the  history  they  contain  would  be  frequently  referred 
to  in  the  books  that  follow ;  but  this  is  not  the  case.  From 
the  time  of  Othniel,  the  first  of  the  Judges  (Judges,  chap.  iii. 
ver.  9),  to  the  end  of  the  book  of  Judges,  which  contains  a 
period  of  four  hundred  and  ten  years,  this  law,  and  those  books, 
were  not  in  practice,  nor  known  among  the  Jews,  nor  are  they 
so  much  as  alluded  to  throughout  the  whole  of  that  period.  And 
if  the  reader  will  examine  the  22nd  and  23rd  chapters  of  the  3rd 
Book  of  Kings,  and  34th  chapter  2nd  Chron.  he  will  find  that  no 
such  law,  nor  any  such  books  were  known  in  the  time  of  the 
Jewish  monarchy,  and  that  the  Jews  were  Pagans  during  the 
whole  of  that  time,  and  of  their  Judges. 

The  first  time  the  law,  called  the  law  of  Moses,  made  its  ap- 
pearance, was  in  the  time  of  Josiah,  about  a  thousand  years  after 
Moses  was  dead  :  it  is  then  said  to  have  been  found  by  accident. 
The  account  of  this  finding,  or  pretended  finding,  is  given  2nd 
Chron.,  chap,  xxxiv.  ver.  14,  15,  16,  18:  "  Hilkiah  the  priest 
found  the  book  of  the  law  of  the  Lord,  given  by  Moses,  and 
Hilkiah  answered  and  said  to  Shaphan  the  scribe,  I  have  found 
the  book  of  the  law  in  the  house  of  the  Lord,  and  Hilkiah  de- 
livered the  book  to  Shaphan,  and  Shaphan  carried  the  book  to 
the  king,  and  Shaphan  told  the  king  (Josiah),  saying,  Hilkiah 
the  priest  hath  given  me  a  book." 

In  consequence  of  this  finding,  which  much  resembles  that  of 
poor  Chatterton  finding  manuscript  poems  of  Rowley,  the  monk, 
in  the  cathedral  church  at  Bristol,  or  the  late  finding  of  manu- 
scripts of  Shakspeare  in  an  old  chest  (two  well  known  frauds), 
Josiah  abolished  the  Pagan  religion  of  the  Jews,  massacred  all 
the  Pagan  priests,  though  he  himself  had  been  a  Pagan,  as  the 
reader  will  see  in  the  23rd  chap.  2nd  Kings,  and  thus  established 
in  blood,  the  law  that  is  there  called  the  law  of  Moses,  and  in- 
stituted a  passover  in  commemoration  thereof.  The  22nd  verse, 
speaking  of  this  passover,  says,  "  Surely  there  was  not  held  such 
a  passover  from  the  days  of  the  Judges,  that  judged  Israel,  nor 
in  all  the  days  of  the  kings  of  Israel,  nor  the  kings  of  Judah  ;" 
and  the  25th  ver.  in  speaking  of  this  priest-killing  Josiah,  says, 
"  Like  unto  him,  there  was  no  king  before  him,  that  turned  to  the 
Lord  with  all  his  heart,  and  with  all  his  soul,  and  with  all  his 
might,  according  to  all  the  law  of  Moses  ;  neither  after  him 
•arose  there  any  like  him."  This  verse,  like  the  former  one,  is  a 
general  declaration  against  all  the  preceding  kings  without  ex- 
ception. It  is  also  a  declaration  against  all  that  reigned  after 


250  LETTER  TO  MR.   ERSKINE. 

him,  of  w  ..v.,1  there  were  four,  the  whole  time  of  whose  reigning 
makes  but  twenty-two  years  and  six  months,  before  the  Jews 
were  entirely  broken  up  as  a  nation  and  their  monarchy  des- 
troyed. It  is,  therefore,  evident  that  the  law,  called  the  law  of 
Moses,  of  which  the  Jews  talk  so  much,  was  promulgated  and 
established  only  in  the  latter  time  of  the  Jewish  monarchy  ; 
and  it  is  very  remarkable,  that  no  sooner  had  they  established 
it  than  they  were  a  destroyed  people,  as  if  they  were  punished 
for  acting  an  imposition  and  affixing  the  name  of  the  Lord  to 
it,  and  massacring  their  former  priests  under  the  pretence  of 
religion.  The  sum  of  the  history  of  the  Jews  is  this — they  con- 
tinued to  be  a  nation  about  a  thousand  years,  they  then  estab- 
lished a  law,  which  they  called  the  law  of  the  Lord  given  by  Moses, 
and  were  destroyed.  This  is  not  opinion,  but  historical  evi- 
dence. 

Levi,  the  Jew,  who  has  written  an  answer  to  the  "Age  of  Rea- 
son," gives  a  strange  account  of  the  law  called  the  law  of  Moses. 

In  speaking  of  the  story  of  the  sun  and  moon  standing  still, 
that  the  Israelites  might  cut  the  throats  of  all  their  enemies,  and 
hang  all  their  kings,  as  told  in  Joshua,  chap,  x.,  he  says,  "  There 
is  also  another  proof  of  the  reality  of  this  miracle,  which  is,  the 
appeal  that  the  author  of  the  book  of  Joshua  makes  to  the  book 
of  Jasher,  lls  not  this  written  in  the  book  ofJasher  ? '  Hence," 
continues  Levi,  "  it  is  manifest  that  the  book  commonly  called 
the  book  of  Jasher,  existed,  and  was  well  known  at  the  time  the 
book  of  Joshua  was  written  ;  and  pray,  Sir,"  continues  Levi, 
"what  book  do  you  think  this  was  1  why,  no  other  then  the  law 
of  Moses  /"  Levi,  like  the  Bishop  of  Llandaff  and  many  other 
guess-work  commentators,  either  forgets  or  does  not  know  what 
there  is  in  one  part  of  the  Bible  when  he  is  giving  his  opinion- 
upon  another  part. 

I  did  not,  however,  expect  to  find  so  much  ignorance  in  a  Jew 
with  respect  to  the  history  of  his  nation,  though  I  might  not  be 
surprised  at  it  in  a  bishop.  If  Levi  will  look  into  the  account 
given  in  the  first  chap.  2nd  book  of  Sam.  of  the  Amalekite  slay- 
ing Saul,  and  bringing  the  crown  and  bracelets  to  David,  he 
will  find  the  following  recital,  ver.  15,  17,  18:  "And  David 
called  one  of  the  young  men,  and  said,  go  near  and  fall  upon  him. 
(the  Amalekite),  and  he  smote  him  that  he  died  :  and  David 
lamented  with  this  lamentation  over  Saul  and  over  Jonathan 
ms  son ;  also  he  bade  them  teach  the  children  the  use  of  the 
liow ; — behold  it  is  written  in  the  book  of  Jasher."  If  the  book 


LE1TEII  TO  MR.  ERSKINE.  251 

of  Jasher  were  what  Levi  calls  it,  the  law  of  Moses,  written  by 
Moses,  it  is  not  possible  that  anything  that  David  said  or  did 
could  be  written  in  that  law,  since  Moses  died  more  than 
five  hundred  years  before  David  was  born ;  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  admitting  the  book  of  Jasher  to  be  the  law  called  the  law 
of  Moses  ;  that  law  must  have  been  written  more  than  five 
hundred  years  after  Moses  was  dead,  or  it  could  not  relate  any- 
thing said  or  done  by  David.  Levi  may  take  which  of  these 
cases  he  pleases,  for  both  are  against  him. 

I  am  not  going  in  the  course  of  this  letter  to  write  a  commen- 
tary on  the  Bible.  The  two  instances  I  have  produced,  and 
which  are  taken  from  the  beginning  of  the  Bible,  show  the 
necessity  of  examining  it.  It  is  a  book  that  has  been  read 
more,  and  examined  less,  than  any  book  that  ever  existed.  Had 
it  come  to  us  an  Arabic  or  Chinese  book,  and  said  to  have  been 
a  sacred  book  by  the  people  from  whom  it  came,  no  apology 
would  have  been  made  for  the  confused  and  disorderly  state  it 
is  in  The  tales  it  relates  of  the  Creator  would  have  been  cen- 
nred,  and  our  pity  excited  for  those  who  believed  them.  "We 
should  have  vindicated  the  goodness  of  God  against  such  a 
book,  and  preached  up  the  disbelief  of  it  out  of  reverence  to 
him.  Why  then  do  we  not  act  as  honorably  by  the  Creator  in 
the  one  case  as  we  do  in  the  other.  As  a  Chinese  book  we 
would  have  examined  it'; — ought  we  not  then  to  examine  it  as 
a  Jewish  book  ?  The  Chinese  are  a  people  who  have  all  the 
appearance  of  far  greater  antiquity  than  the  Jews  ;  and  in  point 
of  permanency  there  is  no  comparison.  They  are  also  a  people 
of  mild  manners  and  good  morals,  except  where  they  have  been 
corrupted  by  European  commerce.  Yet  we  take  the  word  of  a 
restless,  bloody-minded  people,  as  the  Jews  of  Palestine  were, 
when  we  would  reject  the  same  authority  from  a  better  people. 
We  ought  to  see  it  is  habit  and  prejudice  that  have  prevented 
people  from  examining  the  Bible.  Those  of  the  church  of  Eng- 
land called  it  holy,  because  the  Jews  called  it  so,  and  because 
custom  and  certain  acts  of  parliament  call  it  so,  and  they  read 
it  from  custom.  Dissenters  read  it  for  the  purpose  of  doctrinal 
controversy,  and  are  very  fertile  in  discoveries  and  inventions. 
But  none  of  them  read  it  for  the  pure  purpose  of  information, 
and  of  rendering  justice  to  the  Creator,  by  examining  if  the 
evidence  it  contains  warrants  the  belief  of  its  being  what  it  is 
called.  Instead  of  doing  this,  they  take  it  blindfolded,  and  will 
have  it  to  be  the  word  of  God  whether  it  be  so  or  nob.  For  mj 


252  LETTER  TO  MB.  EESK.INE, 

own  part,  my  belief  in  the  perfection  of  the  Deity  will  not  per- 
mit me  to  believe,  that  a  book  so  manifestly  obscure,  disorderly, 
and  contradictory,  can  be  his  work.  I  can  write  a  better  book 
myself.  This  disbelief  in  me  proceeds  from  my  belief  in  the 
Creator.  I  cannot  pin  my  faith  upon  the  say  so  of  Hilkiah,  the 
priest,  who  said  he  found  it,  or  any  part  of  it,  nor  upon  Shap 
han  the  scribe,  nor  upon  any  priests,  nor  any  scribe  or  man  of 
the  law,  of  the  present  day. 

As  to  acts  of  parliament,  there  are  some  \vhich  say  there  are 
witches  and  wizards ;  and  the  persons  who  made  those  acts  (it 
was  in  the  time  of  James  the  First),  made  also  some  acts  which 
call  the  Bible  Holy  Scriptures,  or  Word  of  God.  But  act  of 
parliament  decide  nothing  with  respect  to  God  ;  and  as  these 
acts  of  parliament  making  were  wrong  with  respect  to  witches 
and  wizards,  they  may  also  be  wrong  with  respect  to  the  book 
in  question.*  It  is,  therefore,  necessary  that  the  book  be  exam- 


*  It  is  afflicting  to  humanity  to  reflect  that,  after  the  blood  shed  to  estab- 
lish the  divinity  of  the  Jewish  scriptures,  it  should  have  become  necessary 
to  grant  a  new  dispensation,  which,  through  unbelief  and  conflicting  opin- 
ions respecting  its  true  construction,  has  cost  as  great  or  greater  sacriticea 
than  the  former.  Catholics,  when  they  had  the  ascendency,  burnt  Protes- 
tants, who,  in  turn,  led  Catholics  to  the  stake,  and  both  united  in  extermi- 
nating Dissenters.  The  Dissenters,  when  they  had  the  power,  pursued  the 
same  course.  The  diabolical  act  of  Calvin,  in  the  burning  of  Dr.  Servetus, 
is  an  awful  witness  of  this  fact.  Servetus  suffered  two  hours  in  a  slow  fire 
before  life  was  extinct.  The  Dissenters,  who  escaped  from  England,  had 
scarcely  seated  themselves  in  the  wilds  of  America,  before  they  began  to  ex- 
terminate from  the  territory  they  had  seized  upon,  all  those  who  did  not 
profess  what  they  called  the  orothodox  faith.  Priests,  Quakers,  and  Adam- 
ites, were  prohibited  from  entering  the  territory,  on  pain  of  death.  By 
priests,  they  meant  clergymen  of  the  lioman  Catholic,  if  not  also  of  the 
Protestant  or  Episcopal  persuasion.  Their  own  priests  they  denominated 
ministers.  These  puritans  also,  particularly  in  the  province  of  Massachu- 
setts-Bay, put  many  persons  to  death  on  the  charge  of  witchcraft.  There  is 
no  account,  however,  of  their  having  burned  any  alive,  as  was  doiic  in  Ocoi- 
land,  about  the  same  period  in  which  the  executions  took  place  in  Massa- 
chusetts-Bay. In  England,  Sir  Matthew  Hale,  a  judge  eminent  for  extra- 
ordinary piety,  condemned  two  women  to  death  on  the  same  charge. 

I  doubt,  however,  if  there  be  any  acts  of  the  parliament  now  in  force  for 
inflicting  pains  and  penalties  for  denying  the  scriptures  to  bo  tho  v/ord  of 
(rod,  as  our  upright  judges  seem  to  rely  at  this  time  wholly  upon  what  they 
call  the  common  law,  to  justify  the  horrid  persecutions  which  are  now  car- 
ried on  in  England,  to  the  disgrace  of  a  country  th^t  boasts  so  much  of  iti 
tolerant  spirit. 

As  the  common  law  is  derived  from  the  customs  of  our  ancestors,  when  in 
a  rude  and  barbarous  condition,  ii  ia  not^  surprising  taat  many  of  ilj  injunc- 
tions should  be  opposed  to  the  ideas,  which  a  society  in  a  civilize  I  and  re- 
fined state,  should  deem  compatible  with  justice  anil  right.  Accordingly 
we  find  that  govr™>.ment  has  from  time  to  time  annulled  come  of  itj  most 
prominent  absurdities  ;  minh  as  the  trials  by  ordeal,  tho  MUgec  of  battlo  in 


LECTE3  TO  MB.   EBSffTXEL  253 

ined  ;  it  is  our  duty  to  examine  it ;  and  to  suppress  the  right  of 
examination  is  sinful  in  any  government,  or  in  any  judge  or 
jury.  The  Bible  makes  God  to  say  to  Moses,  Dcut.  chap.  vii. 

case  of  appeal  for  murder,  under  a  belief  that  a  supernatural  power  would 
interfere  to  save  the  innocent  and  destroy  the  guilty  in  such  a  combat,  &c. 
Yet  much  remains  nearly  as  ridiculous,  that  requires  a  further  and  more 
liberal  use  of  the  pruning  knife. 

"  In  the  days  of  the  Stuarts  [  A.D.  1670, 22nd  year  of  Charles  II.  See  "The 
Republicans,"  vol.  5,  p.  22]  William  Penn  was  indicted  at  Common  Law  for 
a  riot  a:id  breach  of  the  peace  on  having  delivered  his  sentiments  to  a  con- 
gregation of  people  in  Grace-church-street :  he  told  the  judge  and  the  jury 
that  Common  Law  was  an  abuse,  and  no  law  at  all;  and  in  spite  of  the 
threats,  the  fines  and  imprisonments  inflicted  on  his  jury,  they  acquitted  him 
on  this  plea.  William  Penn  found  an  honest  jury." 

The  introduction,  however,  of  Christianity,  as  composing  a  part  of  this 
Common  Law  (bad  as  much  of  it  is),  is  proved  to  be  a  fraud  or  misconcep- 
tion of  the  old  Norman  French  ;  as  I  snail  show  by  an  extract  of  a  letter 
from  Thomas  Jefferson  to  Major  Cartwright,  bearing  date  Sth  June,  1824. 

For  a  more  full  development  of  this  subject,  see  "  Sampson's  Anniversary 
Discourse,  before  the  Historical  Society  of  New  York." — EIHTO.B. 

Extract  from  Jefferson's  Letter. 

"  I  am  glad  to  find  in  your  book  [ "  The  English  Constitution,  produced  and 
Illustrated"]  a  formal  contradiction,  at  length,  of  the  judiciary  usurpation  of 
legislative  power  ;  for  such  the  judges  have  usurped  in  their  repeated  deci- 
sions, that  Christianity  is  a  part  of  the  common  law.  The  proof  of  the  con- 
trary, which  you  have  adduced,  is  uncontrovertible  :  to  wit,  that  the  com- 
mon law  existed  while  the  Anglo-Saxons  were  yet  Pagans ;  at  a  time  when 
they  had  never  yet  heard  the  name  of  Christ  pronounced,  or  knew  that  such 
a  character  had  ever  existed.  But  it  may  amuse  you  to  show  when,  and  by 
what  means,  they  stole  this  law  in  upon  us.  In  a  case  of  Qaare  Impedit,  in  the 
"Year  .book,"  34  Henry  VI.  fo.  23  [Anno  1458],  a  question  was  made  how 
far  the  ecclesiastical  law  was  to  be  respected  in  a  common  law  court.  And 
Prisot,  Chief  Justice,  gave  his  opinion  in  these  words : — '  A  tiel  leis,  quo  Us  de 
saint  eglise  ont  en  ancien  scripture,  covient  a  noua  a  donner  credence :  cal 
ceo  Commeju  Ley  sur  quels  touts  manners  leis  sont  f  oddes.  Et  auxy,  Sir,  now 
Bumus  obliges  de  conustre  lour  ley  de  saint  eglise  :  et  semblablement  ils  sont 
obliges  de  conustre  nostre  ley. — Et,  Sir,  si  poit  apperer  or  a  nous  que  1'eves- 
que  adfait  come  un  ordinary  fera  en  tie!  cas,  adong  nous  devons  ceo  adjuger 
bun,  ou  auterment  nemy ,' "  &c.  ["To  such  laws  as  they  of  holy  church  have 
in  ancient  writing,  it  behoves  us  give  credence :  for  it  is  that  common  law 
upon  which  all  kinds  of  law  are  founded  ;  and  therefore,  Sir,  are  we  bound 
to  know  their  law  of  holy  church,  and  in  like  manner  are  they  obliged  to 
know  our  laws.  And,  Sir,  if  it  should  appear  now  tons,  that  the  bishop  had 
done  what  an  ordinary  ought  to  do  in  like  case,  then  we  should  adjudge  it 
good,  and  not  otherwise."]— The  canons  of  the  church  anciently  were  incor- 
porated with  the  laws  of  the  land,  and  of  the  same  authority.  See  Dr. 
Henry's  Hist.  G.  Britain.— EUITOB. 

See  S.  C.  Fitzh.  abr.  qu.  imp.  89.  Bro.  abr.  qu.  Imp.  12.  Finch  in  his  1st 
Book,  c.  3,  ia  the  first  afterwards  who  quotes  the  case,  and  mis-states  it 
thus  :  '"To  puch  laws  of  tho  church  as  have  warrant  in  Holy  Scripture,  our 
law  giveth  credence,'  and  cites  Prisot ;  mistranslating  '  ancient  Scripture ' 
Into  *  holy  Scripture ; '  whereas  Prisot  palpably  says.  '  to  such  laws  as  those 
of  holy  church  have  in  ancient  writing,  it  is  proper  for  us  to  give  credence ; ' 
•to  wit— to  their  ancient,  written  laws.  This  VM  in  1618,  a  c«nt--iy  tod  a  half 


254  LETTER  TO   MR.   ERSKUVE. 

ver.  2,  "  And  when  the  Lord  thy  God  shall  deliv:r  them  be.oro 
thee,  thou  slialt  smite  them  and  utterly  destroy  the^,  thou 
shalt  make  no  covenant  with  them,  nor  show  mercy  unto  tJiem." 
Not  all  the  priests,  nor  scribes,  nor  tribunals  in  the  world,  nor 
all  the  authority  of  man,  shall  make  me  believe  that  God  ever 
gave  such  a  Robespierrean  precept  as  that  of  showing  no  mercy ; 
and  consequently  it  is  impossible  that  I,  or  any  person  who 
believes  as  reverentially  of  the  Creator  as  I  do,  can  believe  sv.ch 
a  book  to  be  the  word  of  God. 

There  have  been,  and  still  are,  those,  who,  whilst  they  profess 
to  believe  the  Bible  to  be  the  work  of  God,  affect  to  turn  it  into 
ridicule.  Taking  their  profession  and  conduct  together,  they 
act  blasphemously  ;  because  they  act  as  if  God  himself  was  not 
to  be  believed.  The  case  is  exceedingly  different  with  respect 
to  the  "Age  of  Reason."  That  book  is  written  to  show  from  the- 
Bible  itself,  that  there  is  abundant  matter  to  suspect  it  is  not 
the  word  of  God,  and  that  we  have  been  imposed  upon,  first  by 
Jews,  and  afterwards  by  priests  and  commentators. 

Not  one  of  those  who  have  attempted  to  write  answers  to  the- 

after  the  dictum  of  Prisot.— Wingate,  in  1658,  erects  this  false  translation 
into  a  maxim  of  the  common  law,  copying  the  words  of  Finch,  but  citing 
Prisot.  Wingate,  max.  3,  and  Sheppard,  title  'Religion,' in  167n,  copies  the 
flame  mistranslation,  quoting  the  Y.  B.  Finch  and  Wingate.  Hale  expresses 
it  in  these  words  :  '  Christianity  is  parcel  of  the  law  of  England ' — 1  Ventris 
293.  Keb.  607,  but  quotes  no  authority.  By  these  echoings  and  re-echoing* 
from  one  to  another,  it  had  become  so  established  in  1728,  that  in  the  casffof 
the  King  vs.  Woolstpn.  2  Stra.  834,  the  court  would  not  suffer  it  to  be  de- 
bated, whether  to  write  against  Christianity  was  punishable  in  the  temporal 
court  at  common  law.  Wood,  therefore,  409,  ventures  still  to  vary  th& 
phrase,  and  say,  'that  all  blasphemy  and  profaneness  are  offences  by  the- 
common  law  ;'  and  cites  2  Stra. — Then  Blackstone,  1763,  iv.  59,  repeats  the 
words  of  Hale,  that  'Christianity  is  part  of  the  law  of  England, 'citing  Ven- 
tris and  Strange.  And  finally,  Lord  Mansfield,  with  a  little  qualification, 
in  Evans'  case  in  1767,  says,  that  '  the  essential  principles  of  revealed  religion 
are  part  of  the  common  law' — thus  ingulfing  Bible,  Testament,  and  all  into 
the  common  law,  without  citing  any  authority.  And  thus  we  find  this  chain 
of  authorities  hanging,  link  by  link,  one  upon  another,  and  all  ultimately  <m 
one  and  the  same  hook,  and  that  a  mistranslation  of  the  words,  'ancient 
scripture,'  used  by  Prisot.  Finch  quotes  Prisot ;  Wingate  does  the  same  ; 
Sheppard  quotes  Prisot,  Finch  and  Wingate.  Hale  cites  nobody.  The 
court,  on  Woolston's  case,  cites  Hale ;  Wood  cites  Woolston's  case  ;  Black- 
stone  quotes  Woolston's  case  and  Hale :  and  Lord  Mansfield,  like  Hale, 
ventures  it  on  his  own  authority.  Here  I  might  defy  the  best  read  lawyer 
to  produce  another  scrip  of  authority  for  this  judiciavy  forgery ;  and  I  mi^ht 
go  on  farther  to  show  how  some  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  priests  interpolated  into 
the  text  of  Alfred's  laws  the  20th,  21st,  '-'I'd,  and  23d  chapters  of  Exodus, 
and  the  15th  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  from  the  23rd  to  the  29th  verses  ; 
but  this  would  lead  my  pen  and  your  patience  too  far.  What  a  conspiracy 
this,  between  church  and  state  1 ' " 


LETTER  TO  MR.   ERSKINE.  255 

41  Age  of  Reason,"  have  taken  the  ground  upon  which  only  an 
answer  could  be  written.  The  case  in  question  is  not  upon  any 
point  of  doctrine,  but  altogether  upon  a  matter  of  fact.  Is  the 
book  called  the  Bible  the  word  of  God,  or  is  it  not?  If  it  can 
be  proved  to  be  so,  it  ought  to  be  believed  as  such ;  if  not,  it 
ought  not  be  believed  as  such.  This  is  the  true  state  of  the  case. 
The  "  Age  of  Reason  "  produces  evidence  to  show,  and  I  have 
in  this  letter  produced  additional  evidence  that  it  is  not  the 
word  of  God.  Those  who  take  the  contrary  side  should  prove 
that  it  is.  But  this  they  have  not  done,  nor  attempted  to  do, 
and  consequently  they  have  done  nothing  to  the  purpose. 

The  prosecutors  of  Williams  have  shrunk  from  the  point,  as 
the  answerers  have  done.  They  have  availed  themselves  of  pre- 
judice instead  of  proof.  If  a  writing  was  produced  in  a  court 
of  judicature,  said  to  be  the  writing  of  a  certain  person,  and 
upon  the  reality  or  non-reality  of  which,  some  matter  at  issue 
depended,  the  point  to  be  proved  would  be,  that  such  writing 
was  the  writing  of  such  person.  Or  if  the  issue  depended  upon 
certain  words,  which  some  certain  person  was  said  to  have 
spoken,  the  point  to  be  proved  would  be,  that  such  words  were 
spoken  by  such  person ;  and  Mr.  Erskine  would  contend  the 
case  upon  this  ground.  A  certain  book  is  said  to  be  the  word 
of  God.  What  is  the  proof  that  it  is  so  1  for  upon  this  the 
whole  depends ;  and  if  it  cannot  be  proved  to  be  so,  the  prose- 
cution fails  for  want  of  evidence. 

The  prosecution  against  Williams  charges  him  with  publishing 
a  book,  entitled  the  "  Age  of  Reason,"  which  it  says,  is  an  im- 
pious blasphemous  pamphlet,  tending  to  ridicule  and  bring  into 
contempt  the  Holy  Scriptures.  Nothing  is  more  easy  than  to 
find  abusive  words,  and  English  prosecutions  are  famous  for  this 
species  of  vulgarity.  The  charge,  however,  is  sophistical ;  for 
the  charge,  as  growing  out  of  the  pamphlet,  should  have  stated, 
not  as  it  now  states,  to  ridicule  and  bring  into  contempt  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  but  to  show,  that  the  book  called  the  Holy 
Scriptures  are  not  the  Holy  Scriptures.  It  is  one  thing  if  1 
ridicule  a  work  as  being  written  by  a  certain  person ;  but  it  i» 
quite  a  different  thing  if  I  write  to  prove  that  such  work  was 
not  written  by  such  person.  In  the  first  case,  I  attack  the  per- 
son through  the  work  ;  in  the  other  case,  I  defend  the  honor  of 
the  person  against  the  work.  This  is  what  the  "Age  of  Reason" 
does,  and  consequently  the  charge  in  the  indictment  is  sophis- 
tically  stated.  Every  ov  will  admit,  that  if  the  Bible  be  not 


256  LETTER  TO  MR.   ERSKINE. 

the  word  of  God,  we  err  in  believing  it  to  be  his  word,  and 
ought  not  to  believe  it.  Certainly,  then,  the  ground  the  prose- 
cution should  take,  would  be  to  prove  that  the  Bible  is  in  fact 
what  it  is  called.  But  this  the  prosecution  has  not  done,  and 
cannot  do. 

In  all  cases  the  prior  fact  must  be  proved,  before  the  subse- 
quent facts  can  be  admitted  in  evidence.  In  a  prosecution  for 
adultery,  the  fact  of  marriage,  which  is  the  prior  fact,  must  be 
proved,  before  the  facts  to  prove  adultery  can  be  received.  If 
the  fact  of  marriage  cannot  be  proved,  adultery  cannot  be 
proved  ;  and  if  the  prosecution  cannot  prove  the  Bible  to  be 
the  word  of  God,  the  charge  of  blasphemy  is  visionary  and 
groundless. 

In  Turkey  they  might  prove,  if  the  case  happened,  that  a 
certain  book  was  bought  of  a  certain  bookseller,  and  that  the- 
said  book  was  written  against  the  Koran.  In  Spain  and  Por- 
tugal they  might  prove  that  a  certain  book  was  bought  of  a 
certain  bookseller,  and  that  the  said  book  was  written  against 
the  infallibility  of  the  Pope.  Under  the  ancient  mythology 
they  might  have  proved  that  a  certain  writing  was  bought  of 
a  certain  person,  and  that  the  said  writing  was  written  against 
the  belief  of  a  plurality  of  gods,  and  in  the  support  of  the  be- 
lief of  one  God.  Socrates  was  condemned  for  a  work  of  this 
kind. 

All  these  are  but  subsequent  facts,  and  amount  to  nothing, 
unless  the  prior  facts  be  proved.  The  prior  fact,  with  respect 
to  the  first  case,  is,  Is  the  Koran  the  word  of  God?  With 
respect  to  the  second,  Is  the  infallibility  of  the  Pope  a  truth? 
With  respect  to  the  third,  Is  the  belief  of  a  plurality  of  gods 
a  true  belief  1  and  in  like  manner  with  respect  to  the  present 
prosecution,  Is  the  book  called  the  Bibie  the  word  of  God  1  If 
the  present  prosecution  prove  no  more  than  could  be  proved  in 
any  or  all  of  these  cases,  it  proves  only  as  they  do,  or  as  an  in- 
quisition would  prove ;  and  in  this  view  of  the  case,  the  prose- 
cutors ought  at  least  to  leave  off  reviling  that  infernal  institu- 
tion, the  inquisition.  The  prosecution,  however,  though  it  may 
injure  the  individual,  may  promote  the  cause  of  truth,  because 
the  manner  in  which  it  has  been  conducted,  appears  a  confession 
to  the  world,  that  there  is  no  evidence  to  prove  that  the  Bible 
is  the  word  of  God.  On  what  authority  then  do  we  believe  the 
many  strange  stories  that  the  Bible  tells  of  God. 

This  prosecution  has  been  carried  on  through  the  medium  of 


LETTER  TO   MR.    ERSKINE.  257 

what  is  called  a  special  jury,  and  the  whole  of  a  special  jury  is 
nominated  by  the  aiaster  of  the  crown  office.  Mr.  Erskino 
vaunts  himself  upon  the  bill  he  brought  into  parliament  with 
respect  to  trials,  for  what  the  government  party  calls  libels. 
But  if  in  crown  prosecutions,  the  master  of  the  crown  office  is 
to  continue  to  appoint  the  whole  special  jury,  which  he  does  by 
nominating  the  forty-eight  persons  from  which  the  solicitor  of 
each  party  is  to  strike  out  twelve,  Mr  Erskine's  bill  is  only 
vapor  and  smoke.  The  root  of  the  grievance  lies  in  the  man- 
ner of  forming  the  jury,  and  to  this  Mr.  Erskine's  bill  applies 
no  remedy. 

When  the  trial  of  Williams  came  on,  only  eleven  of  the 
special  jurymen  appeared,  and  the  trial  was  adjourned.  In 
cases  where  the  whole  number  do  not  appear,  it  is  customary 
to  make  up  the  deficiency  by  taking  jurymen  from  persona 
present  in  court.  This,  in  the  law  term,  is  called  a  Tales. 
Why  was  not  this  done  in  this  case?  Reason  will  suggest  that 
they  did  not  choose  to  depend  on  a  man  accidentally  taken. 
When  the  trial  recommenced  the  whole  of  the  special  jury  ap- 
peared, and  Williams  \vasconvicted;  it  is  folly  to  contend  a 
cause  where  the  whole  jury  is  nominated  by  one  of  the  parties. 
I  will  relate  a  recent  case  that  explains  a  great  deal  with  re- 
spect to  special  juries  in  crown  prosecution. 

On  the  trial  of  Lambert  and  others,  printers  and  proprietors 
of  the  Morning  Chronicle,  for  a  libel,  a  special  jury  was  struck, 
on  the  prayer  of  the  Attorney-General,  who  used  to  be  called 
Diabolus  Regis,  or  King's  Devil. 

Only  seven  or  eight  of  the  special  jury  appeared,  and  the 
Attorney-General  not  praying  a  Tales,  the  trial  stood  over  to  a 
future  day  ;  when  it  was  to  be  brought  on  a  second  time,  the 
Attorney -General  prayed  for  a  new  special  jury,  but  as  this  was 
not  admissible,  the  original  special  jury  was  summoned.  Only 
eight  of  them  appeared,  on  which  the  Attorney-General  said, 
"  As  I  cannot,  on  a  second  trial,  have  a  special  jury,  I  will 
pray  a  Tales"  Four  persons  were  then  taken  from  the  persons 
present  in  court,  and  added  to  the  eight  special  jurymen.  The 
jury  went  out  at  two  o'clock  to  consult  on  their  verdict,  and  the 
judge  (Kenyon)  understanding  they  were  divided,  and  likely  to 
be  some  time  in  making  up  their  minds,  retired  from  the  bench, 
and  went  home.  At  seven  the  jury  went,  attended  by  an  officer 
of  ihe  court  to  the  Judge's  house,  and  delivered  a  verdict, 
"  Guilty  of  puhl^ing,  but  with  no  malicious  intention."  The 
17 


LETTER  TO  MR.   ERSKINE. 

Judge  said,  "  1  cannot  record  this  verdict :  it  is  no  verdict  at 
all."  The  jury  withdrew,  and  after  sitting  in  consultation  till 
five  in  the  morning,  brought  in  a  verdict,  Not  Guilty.  Would 
this  have  been  the  case  had  they  been  all  special  jurymen 
nominated  by  the  Master  of  the  Crown-office  ?  This  is  one  of 
the  cases  that  ought  to  open  the  eyes  of  the  people  with  respect 
to  the  manner  of  forming  special  juries. 

On  the  trial  of  Williams,  the  Judge  prevented  the  counsel 
for  the  defendant  proceeding  in  the  defence.  The  prosecution 
had  selected  a  number  of  passages  from  the  Age  of  Reason,  and 
inserted  them  in  the  indictment.  The  defending  counsel  was 
selecting  other  passages  to  show,  that  the  passages  in  the  in- 
dictment were  conclusions  drawn  from  premises,  and  unfairly 
seperated  therefrom  in  the  indictment.  The  Judge  said,  he  did 
not  know  how  to  act;  meaning  thereby  whether  to  let  the  counsel 
-proceed  in  the  defence  or  not,  and  asked  the  jury  if  they  wished 
to  hear  the  passages  read  which  the  defending  counsel  had 
selected.  The  jury  said  NO,  and  the  defending  counsel  was  in 
consequence  silent.  Mr.  Erskine1  then,  Falstaff  like,  having  all 
the  field  to  himself,  and  no  enemy  at  hand,  laid  about  him  most 
heroically,  and  the  jury  found  the  defendant  guilty.  I  know 
not  if  Mr.  Erskine  ran  out  of  court  and  hallooed,  huzza  for  the 
Bible  and  the  trial  by  jury. 

Robespierre  caused  a  decree  to  be  passed  during  the  trial  of 
Brissot  and  others,  that  after  a  trial  had  lasted  three  days  (the 
whole  of  which  time  in  the  case  of  Brissot,  was  taken  up  by  the 
prosecuting  party),  the  judge  should  ask  the  jury  (who  were 
ithen  a  packed  jury)  if  they  were  satisfied.  If  the  jury  said 
YES,  the  trial  ended,  and  the  jury  proceeded  to  give  their  ver- 
dict, without  hearing  the  defence  of  the  accused  party.  It 
needs  no  depth  of  wisdom  to  make  an  application  of  this  case. 

1  will  now  state  a  case  to  show  that  the  trial  of  Williams  is 
not  a  trial,  according  to  Kenyon's  own  explanation  of  law. 

On  a  late  trial  in  London  (Seltheris  versus  Hoossman)  on  a 
policy  of  insurance,  one  of  the  jurymen,  Mr.  Dunnage,  after 
hearing  one  side  of  the  case,  and  without  hearing  the  other  side, 
.got  up  and  said,  it  was  as  legal  a  policy  of  insurance  as  ever  was 
written.  The  Judge,  who  was  the  same  as  presided  on  the  trial 
of  Williams,  replied,  that  it  was  a  great  misfortune  when  any 
gentleman  of  the  jury  makes  up  his  mind  on  a  cause  before  it 
was  jinislied.  Mr.  Erskine,  who  in  that  cause  was  counsel  for 
the  defendant  (in  this  he  was  aeainFt  the  defendant),  cried  out, 


LETTER  TO  MB.  ERSKINE,  250 

it  is  worse  than  a  misfortune,  it  is  a  fault.  The  Judge,  in  his 
address  to  the  jury  in  summing  up  the  evidence,  expatiated 
upon,  and  explained  the  parts  which  the  law  assigned  to  the 
counsel  on  each  side,  to  the  witnesses,  and  to  the  Judge,  and 
said,  "  When  all  this  was  done,  and  not  until  then,  it  was  the 
business  of  the  jury  to  declare  what  the  justice  of  the  case  was ; 
and  that  it  was  extremely  rash  and  imprudent  in  any  man  to 
•draw  a  conclusion  before  all  the  premises  were  laid  before  them, 
upon  which  that  conclusion  was  to  be  grounded."  According 
then  to  Kenyon's  own  doctrine,  the  trial  of  Williams  is  an  ir- 
regular trial,  the  verdict  an  irregular  verdict,  and  as  such  is  not 
recordable. 

As  to  special  juries,  they  are  but  modern;  and  were  insti- 
tuted for  the  purpose  of  determining  cases  at  law  between 
merchants;  because,  as  the  method  of  keeping  merchants' 
accounts  differs  from  that  of  common  tradesmen,  and .  their 
business,  by  lying  much  in  foreign  bills  of  exchange,  insurance, 
etc.,  is  of  a  different  description  to  that  of  common  tradesmen, 
it  might  happen  that  a  common  jury  might  not  be  competent 
to  form  a  judgment.  The  law  that  instituted  special  juries, 
makes  it  necessary  that  the  jurors  be  merchants,  or  of  the  degree 
of  squires.  A  special  jury  in  London  is  generally  composed  of 
merchants;  and  in  the  country,  of  men  called  country  squires, 
that  is,  fox-hunters,  or  men  qualified  to  hunt  foxes.  The  one 
may  decide  very  well  upon  a  case  of  pounds,  shillings,  and  pence, 
or  of  the  counting-house:  and  the  other  of  the  jockey-club  or 
the  chase.  But  who  would  not  laugh,  that  because  such  men 
can  decide  such  cases,  they  can  also  be  jurors  upon  theology. 
Talk  with  some  London  merchants  about  scripture,  and  they 
will  understand  you  mean  scrip,  and  tell  you  how  much  it  is 
worth  at  the  Stock  Exchange.  Ask  them  about  theology,  and 
they  will  say  they  know  of  no  such  gentleman  upon  Change. 
Tell  some  country  squires  of  the  sun  and  moon  standing  still, 
the  one  on  the  top  of  a  hill  and  the  other  in  a  valley,  and 
they  will  swear  it  is  a  lie  of  one's  own  making.  Tell  them  that 
God  Almighty  ordered  a  man  to  make  a  cake  and  bake  it  with 
a  t — d  and  eat  it,  and  they  will  say  it  is  one  of  Dean  Swift's 
blackguard  stories.  Tell  them  it  is  in  the  Bible,  and  they 
will  lay  a  bowl  of  punch  it  is  not,  and  leave  it  to  the  parson  of 
the  parish  to  decide.  Ask  them  also  about  theology,  and  they 
will  say,  they  know  of  no  such  an  one  on  the  turf.  An  appeal 
to  such  juries  serves  to  bring  the  Bible  into  more  ridicule  than 


260  LETTEE  TO  MR.   ERSKINE. 

anything  the  author  of  the  "Age  of  Reason"  has  written;  and 
the  manner  in  which  the  trial  has  been  conducted  shows  that 
the  prosecutor  dares  not  come  to  the  point,  nor  meet  the  de- 
fence of  the  defendant.  But  all  other  cases  apart,  on  what 
ground  of  right,  otherwise  than  on  the  right  assumed  by  an 
inquisition,  do  such  prosecutions  stand?  Religion  is  a  private 
affair  between  every,  man  and  his  Maker,  and  no  tribunal  or 
third  party  has  a  right  to  interfere  between  them.  It  is  not 
properly  a  thing  of  this  world;  it  is  only  practised  in  this 
world ;  but  its  object  is  in  a  future  world  :  and  it  is  no  other- 
wise an  object  of  just  laws,  than  for  the  purpose  of  protecting 
the  equal  rights  of  all,  however  various  their  beliefs  may  be. 
If  one  man  choose  to  believe  the  book  called  the  Bible  to  be 
the  word  of  God,  and  another,  from  the  convinced  idea  of  the 
purity  and  perfection  of  God,  compared  with  the  contradictions 
the  book  contains — from  the  lasciviousness  of  some  of  its 
stories,  like  that  of  Lot  getting  drunk  and  debauching  his  two- 
daughters,  which  is  not  spoken  of  as  a  crime,  and  for  which 
the  most  absurd  apologies  are  made — from  the  immorality  of 
some  of  its  precepts,  like  that  of  showing  no  mercy — and  from 
the  total  want  of  evidence  on  the  case,  thinks  he  ought  not  to- 
believe  it  to  be  the  word  of  God,  each  of  them  has  an  equal 
right ;  and  if  the  one  has  the  right  to  give  his  reasons  for  be- 
lieving it  to  be  so,  the  other  has  an  equal  right  to  give  his 
reasons  for  believing  the  contrary.  Anything  that  goes  beyoad 
this  rule  is  an  inquisition.  Mr.  Erskine  talks  of  his  moral 
education;  Mr.  Erskine  is  very  little  acquainted  with  theo- 
logical subjects,  if  he  does  not  know  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a 
sincere  and  religious  belief  that  the  Bible  is  not  the  word  of 
God.  This  is  my  belief ;  it  is  the  belief  of  thousands  far  more 
learned  than  Mr.  Erskine;  and  it  is  a  belief  that  is  every  day 
increasing.  It  is  not  infidelity,  as  Mr.  Erskine  profanely  and 
abusively  calls  it;  it  is  the  direct  reverse  of  infidelity.  It  is  a 
pure  religious  belief,  founded  on  the  idea  of  the  perfection  of 
the  Creator.  If  the  Bible  be  the  word  of  God,  it  needs  not  the 
wretched  aid  of  prosecutions  to  support  it ;  and  you  might  with 
as  much  propriety,  make  a  law  to  protect  the  sunshine,  as  to 
protect  the  Bible,  if  the  Bible,  like  the  sun,  be  the  work  of  God. 
We  see  that  God  takes  good  care  of  the  Creation  he  has  made. 
He  suffers  no  part  of  it  to  be  extinguished:  and  he  will  take 
the  same  care  of  his  word,  if  he  ever  gave  one.  But  men  ou.crht 
to  be  reverentially  careful  and  suspicious  how  they  ascribe 


LETTER  TO   MB.    ERSKINE.  261 

books  to  him  as  his  word,  which  from  this  confused  condition 
would  dishonor  a  common  scribbler,  and  against  which  there  is 
abundant  evidence,  and  every  cause  to  suspect  imposition. 
Leave  then  the  Bible  to  itself.  God  will  take  care  of  it  if  he 
has  anything  to  do  with  it,  as  he  takes  care  of  the  sun  and  the 
moon,  which  need  not  your  laws  for  their  better  protection. 
As  the  two  instances  I  have  produced,  in  the  beginning  of  this 
letter,  from  the  book  of  Genesis,  the  one  respecting  the  account 
called  the  Mosaic  account  of  the  Creation,  the  other  of  the 
Flood,  sufficiently  show  the  necessity  of  examining  the  Bible, 
in  order  to  ascertain  what  degree  of  evidence  there  is  for  re- 
ceiving or  rejecting  it  as  a  sacred  book ;  I  shall  not  add  more 
upon  that  subject;  but  in  order  to  show  Mr.  Erskine  that 
there  are  religious  establishments  for  public  worship  which 
make  no  profession  of  faith  of  the  books  called  holy  scriptures, 
nor  admit  of  priests,  I  will  conclude  with  an  account  of  a 
society  lately  begun  in  Paris,  and  now  very  rapidly  extending 
itself. 

The  society  takes  the  name  of  Theophilantropes,  which  would 
be  rendered  in  English  by  the  word  Theophilanthropists,  com- 
pounded of  three  Greek  words,  signifying  God,  Love,  and  Man. 
The  explanation  given  to  this  word  is,  Lovers  of  God  and  Man, 
or  Adorers  of  God  and  Friends  of  Man,  adorateurs  de  Dieu  et 
amis  des  hommes.  The  society  proposes  to  publish  each  year  a 
volume,  the  first  volume  is  just  published,  entitled 

EELIGIOUS  YEAE  OF  THE  THEOPHILANTHROPISTS; 

OB, 
ADORERS   OF   GOD,    AND   FRIENDS   OF   MAN. 

Being  a  collection  of  the  discourses,  lectures,  hymns  and 
canticles,  for  all  the  religious  and  moral  festivals  of  the  Theo- 
philanthropists  during  the  course  of  the  year,  whether  in  their 
public  temples  or  in  their  private  families,  published  by  the 
author  of  the  Manual  of  the  Theophilanthropists. 

The  volume  of  this  year,  which  is  the  first,  contains  214 
pages  duodecimo. 

The  following  is  the  table  of  contents: — 

1.  Precise  history  of  the  Theophilanthropista 

2.  Exercises  common  to  all  the  festivals. 

3.  Hymn,  No.  L    God  of  whom  the  universe  speaks. 


3*52  LETTER  TO   MR.   ERSKINE. 

4.  Discourse  upon  the  existence  of  God.  • 

5.  Ode  II.     The  heavens  instruct  the  earth. 

6.  Precepts  of  wisdom,  extracted  from  the   book  of  th« 

Adorateurs. 

7.  Canticle,  No.  IIL     God  Creator,  soul  of  nature. 

8.  Extracts  from  divers  moralists,  upon  the  nature  of  God, 

and  upon  the  physical  proofs  of  his  existence. 

9.  Canticle,  No.  IV.     Let  us  bless  at  our  waking  the  God 

who  gives  us  light 

10.  Moral  thoughts  extracted  from  the  Bible. 

11.  Hymn,  No.  Y.     Father  of  the  universe. 

12.  Contemplation  of  nature  on  the  first  days  of  the  spring. 

13.  Ode,  No.  VI.     Lord  in  thy  glory  adorable. 

14.  Extracts  from  the  moral  thoughts  of  Confucius. 

15.  Canticle  in  praise  of  actions,  and  thanks  for  the  works  of 

the  creation. 

16.  Continuation  from  the  moral  thoughts  of  Confucius. 

17.  Hymn,  No.  VIL     All  the  universe  is  full  of  thy  magni- 

ficence. 

18.  Extracts  from  an  ancient  sage  of  India  upon  the  duties  of 

families. 

19.  Upon  the  spring. 

20.  Moral  thoughts  of  divers  Chinese  authors. 

21.  Canticle,  No.  VIII.     Everything  celebrates  the  glory  of 

the  eternal. 

22.  Continuation  of  the  moral  thoughts  of  Chinese  authors. 

23.  Invocation  for  the  country. 

24.  Extracts  from  the  moral  thoughts  of  Theognis. 

25.  Invocation,  Creator  of  man. 

26.  Ode,  No.  IX.     Upon  death. 

27.  Extracts  from  the  book  of  the  Moral  Universal,  upon 

happiness. 

28.  Ode,  No.  X.     Supreme  Author  of  Nature. 

INTRODUCTION; 

ENTITLED 

PRECISE  HISTORY  OF  TILE  THEOPHILANTHROPISTS. 

"TOWARDS  the  month  of  Vendimiaire,  of  the  year  5  (Sept. 
170C),  there  appeared  at  Paris,  a  small  work,  entitled,  Manual 


LETTER  TO  MY.   ERSKINE.  263 

of  the  Theoanthropophiles,  since  called,  for  the  salre  of  easier 
pronunciation,  Theophilanthropes  (Theophilanthropists),  pub- 
lished by  C . 

"  The  worship  set  forth  in  this  Manual,  of  which  the  origin 
is  from  the  beginning  of  the  world,  was  then  professed  by  some 
families  in  the  silence  of  domestic  life.  But  no  sooner  was  the 
Manual  published,  than  some  perrons,  respectable  for  their  know- 
ledge and  their  manners,  saw,  in  the  formation  of  a  society  open 
to  the  public,  an  easy  method  of  spreading  moral  religion,  and 
of  leading  by  degrees  great  r umbers  to  the  knowledge  thereof, 
who  appear  to  have  forgotten  it.  This  consideration  ought  of 
itself  not  to  leave  indifferent  those  persons  who  know  that 
morality  and  religion,  which  is  the  most  solid  support  thereof, 
are  necessary  to  the  maintenance  of  society,  as  well  as  to  the 
happiness  of  the  individual.  These  considerations  determined 
the  families  of  the  Theophilanthropists  to  unite  publicly  for  the 
exercise  of  their  worship. 

"  The  first  society  of  this  kind  opened  in  the  month  of  Nivose, 
year  5  (Jan.  1797),  in  the  street  Dennis,  No.  34,  corner  of  Lom- 
bard-street. The  care  of  conducting  this  society  was  under- 
taken by  five  fathers  of  families.  They  adopted  the  Manual 
of  the  Theophilanthropisfcs.  They  agreed  to  hold  their  days  of 
public  worship  on  the  days  corresponding  to  Sundays,  but  with- 
out making  this  a  hindrance  to  other  societies  to  choose  such 
other  day  as  they  thought  more  convenient.  Soon  after  this, 
more  societies  were  opened,  of  which  somo  celebrate  on  the 
decadi  (tenth  day),  and  others  on  the  Sunday :  it  was  also  re- 
solved that  the  committee  should  meet  one  hour  each  week 
for  the  purpose  of  preparing  or  examining  the  discourses  and 
lectures  proposed  for  the  next  general  assembly.  Tnat  the  gen- 
eral assemblies  should  be  called  Fetes  (festivals)  religious  and 
moral.  That  those  festivals  should  be  conducted  in  principal 
and  form,  in  a  manner,  as  not  to  be  considered  c.s  the  festivals 
of  an  exclusive  worship  ;  and  that  in  recalling  those  who  might 
not  be  attached  to  any  particular  worship,  those  festivals  might 
also  be  attended  as  moral  exercises  by  diociplcs  cf  every  sect, 
and  consequently  avoid,  by  scrupulous  care,  everything  that 
night  make  the  society  appear  under  the  name  of  a  sect. 
The  society  adopts  neither  rights  nor  priesthood,  •<  nd  it  wih 
never  lose  sight  of  the  resolution  not  to  advance  e^  clung  as  a 
society,  inconvenient  to  c.ny  sect  or  wets,  in  any  t,.  j  or  coun- 
try, and  under  any  government. 


264  LETTER  TO  MR.  ERSXINE. 

"  It  will  be  seen,  that  it  is  so  much  the  more  easy  £OT  fie 
society  to  keep  within  this  circle,  because,  that  the  dogmas  of 
the  Theophilanthropists  are  those  upon  which  all  the  sects  Lave 
agreed,  that  their  moral  is  that  upon  which  there  has  iiever  been 
the  least  dissent ;  and  that  the  name  they  have  taken,  expresses 
the  double  end  of  all  the  sects,  that  of  leading  to  the  adoration 
of  God  and  love  of  mail. 

"The  Theophilanthropists  do  not  call  themselves  the  disci- 
ples of  such  or  such  a  man.  They  avail  themselves*  of  th«;  wise 
precepts  that  have  been  transmitted  by  writers  of  all  countries 
and  in  all  ages.  The  reader  will  Jind  in  the  discourses,  lectures, 
hymns,  and  canticles,  which  the  Throphilanthmpists  hav? 
adopted  for  their  religious  and  moral  festivals,  ami  which  they 
present  under  the  title  of  Ajuiee  lu'ligieuse,  extracts  from 
moralists,  ancient  and  modern,  divested  of  maxims  too  severe, 
or  too  loosely  conceived,  or  contrary  to  piety,  whether  towards 
God  or  towards  man." 

Next  follow  the  dogmas  of  the  Theophilanthropists,  or  things 
they  profess  to  believe.  These  are  but  two,  and  are  thus  ex- 
pressed, les  Theopldlanlhropes  croient  i"i  Vexisten.ee  de  Dieu,  et 
a  I'immortalite  de  I'dme.  The  Thoophilanthropists  believe  in 
the  existence  of  God,  and  the  immortality  of  the  soul 

The  Manual  of  the  Theophilanthropists,  a  small  volume  of 
sixty  pages,  duodecimo,  is  published  separately,  as  is  also  their 
catechism,  which  is  of  the  same  size.  The  principles  of  the 
Theophilanthropists  are  the  same  as  those  published  in  the  first 
part  of  the  "Age  of  Reason"  in  1793,  and  in  the  second  part,  in 
1795.  The  Theophilanthropists,  as  a  society,  are  silent  upon 
all  the  things  they  do  not  profess  to  believe,  as  the  sacredness 
of  the  books  called  the  Bible,  &c.,  <fec.  They  profess  the  im- 
mortality of  the  soul,  but  they  are  silent  on  the  immortality 
of  the  body,  or  that  which  the  church  calls  the  resurrection. 
The  author  of  the  "Age  of  Reason"  gives  reasons  for  every  thing 
he  disbelieves,  as  well  as  for  those  he  believes  ;  and  where  this 
cannot  be  done  with  safety,  the  government  is  a  despotism,  and 
the  church  an  inquisition. 

It  is  more  than  three  years  since  the  first  part  of  the  "  Age  of 
Reason  "  was  published,  and  more  than  a  year  and  a  half  since 
the  publication  of  the  second  part:  the  bishop  of  Llandaff 
undertook  to  write  an  answer  to  the  second  part ;  and  it  was  not 
until  after  it  was  known  that  the  author  of  the  "Age  of  Reason 
would  reply  to  the  bishop,  that  the  prosecution  against  the  book 


LETTER  TO  MR.   EJ1SKINE.  265 

was  set  on  foot,  and  which  is  said  to  be  carried  on  by  some 
clergy  of  the  English  church.  If  the  bishop  is  one  of  them, 
and  the  object  be  to  prevent  an  exposure  of  the  numerous  and 
gross  errors  he  has  committed  in  his  work  (and  which  he  wrote 
when  report  said  that  Thomas  Paine  was  dead),  it  is  a  confession 
that  he  feels  the  weakness  of  his  cause,  and  finds  himself  unable 
to  maintain  it.  In  this  case  he  has  given  me  a  triumph  I  did 
not  seek,  and  Mr.  Erskine,  the  herald  of  the  prosecution,  has 
proclaimed  it. 


266  AN   ESSAY  ON  DUEAM3, 


AN  ESSAY  ON  DKEAMS. 


As  a  great  deal  is  said  in  the  New  Testament  about  dreams, 
ft  is  first  necessary  to  explain  the  nature  of  a  dream,  and  to  show 
by  what  operation  of  the  mind  a  dream  is  produced  during  sleep. 
When  this  is  understood  we  shall  be  better  enabled  to  judge 
whether  any  reliance  can  be  placed  upon  them  .  and,  conse- 
quently, whether  the  several  matters  in  the  New  Testament  re- 
lated of  dreams  deserve  the  credit  which  the  writers  of  that  book 
and  priests  and  commentators  ascribe  to  them. 

In  order  to  understand  the  nature  of  dreams,  or  of  that  which 
passes  in  ideal  vision  during  a  state  of  sleep,  it  is  first  necessary 
to  understand  the  composition  and  decomposition  of  the  human 
mind 

The  three  great  faculties  of  the  mind  are  IMAGINATION,  JUDG- 
MENT and  MEMORY.  Every  action  of  the  mind  comes  under  one 
or  the  other  of  these  faculties.  In  a  state  of  wakefulness,  as  in 
the  day-time,  these  three  faculties  are  all  active  ;  but  that  is  sel- 
dom the  case  in  sleep,  and  never  perfectly  ;  and  this  is  the  cause- 
that  our  dreams  are  not  so  regular  and  rational  as  our  waking 
thoughts. 

The  seat  of  that  collection  of  powers  or  faculties  that  consti 
tute  what  is  called  the  mind,  is  in  the  brain  There  is  not,  and 
cannot  be,  any  visible  demonstration  of  this  anatomically,  but 
accidents  happening  to  living  persons,  show  it  to  be  so.  An  in- 
jury done  to  the  brain  by  a  fracture  of  the  skull,  will  sometimes 
change  a  wise  man  into  a  childish  idiot :  a  being  without  a  mind. 
But  so  careful  has  nature  been  of  that  sanctum  sanctorum  of 
man,  the  brain,  that  of  all  the  external  accidents  to  which  hu- 
manity is  subject,  this  happens  the  most  seldom.  But  we  often 
see  it  happening  by  long  and  habitual  intemperance. 

Whether  those  three  faculties  occupy  distinct  apartments  of 
the  brain,  is  known  only  to  that  Almighty  power  that  formed 
and  organized  it.  We  can  see  the  external  effects  of  muscular 
motion  in  all  the  members  of  the  body,  though  its  primum  mo- 
bile, or  firrt  mov'pfl  cause,  ia  unknown  to  man.  Our  external 


AN   ESSAY  ON  DREAMS.  267 

motions  are  sometimes  the  effect  of  intention,  and  sometimes 
not.  If  we  are  sitting  and  intend  to  rise,  or  standing  and  in- 
tend to  sit,  or  to  walk,  the  limbs  obey  that  intention  as  if  they 
heard  the  order  given.  But  we  make  a  thousand  motions 
every  day,  and  that  as  well  waking  as  sleeping,  that  have  no 
prior  intention  to  direct  them.  Each  member  acts  as  if  it  had 
a  will  or  mind  of  its  own.  Man  governs  the  whole  when  he 
pleases  to  govern,  but  in  the  interims  the  several  parts,  like  little 
suburbs,  govern  themselves  without  consulting  the  sovereign. 

But  all  these  motions,  whatever  be  the  generating  cause,  are 
external  and  visible.  But  with  respect  to  the  brain,  no  oculai 
observation  can  be  made  upon  it.  All  is  mystery  ;  all  is  dark- 
ness in  that  womb  of  thought. 

Whether  the  brain  is  a  mass  of  matter  in  continual  rest , 
whether  it  has  a  vibrating  pulsative  motion,  or  a  heaving  and 
falling  motion,  like  matter  in  fermentation  ;  whether  different 
parts  of  the  brain  have  different  motions  according  to  the  faculty 
that  is  employed,  be  it  the  imagination,  the  judgment,  or  the 
memory,  man  knows  nothing  of  it.  He  knows  not  the  cause  of 
his  own  wit.  His  own  brain  conceals  it  from  him. 

Comparing  invisible  by  visible  things,  as  metaphysical  can 
sometimes  be  compared  to  physical  things,  the  operations  of  thos-e 
distinct  and  several  faculties  have  some  resemblance  to  the  mecL- 
anism  of  a  watch.  The  main  spring  which  puts  all  in  motion 
corresponds  to  the  imagination  :  the  pendulum  or  balance,  which 
corrects  and  regulates  that  motion,  corresponds  to  the  judgment : 
and  the  hand  and  dial,  like  the  memory,  records  the  operations. 

Now  in  proportion  as  these  several  faculties  sleep,  slumber,  o* 
keep  awake,  during  the  continuance  of  a  dream,  in  that  pro- 
portion the  dream  will  be  reasonable  or  frantic,  remembered  or 
forgotten. 

If  there  is  any  faculty  in  mental  man  that  never  sleeps  it  is 
that  volatile  thing  the  imagination  :  the  case  is  different  with 
the  judgment  and  memory.  The  sedate  and  sober  constitution 
of  the  judgment  easily  disposes  it  to  rest ;  and  as  to  the  memory, 
it  records  in  silence,  and  is  active  only  when  it  is  called  upon. 

That  the  judgment  soon  goes  to  sleep  may  be  perceived  by 
our  sometimes  beginning  to  dream  before  we  are  fully  asleep 
ourselves.  Some  random  thought  runs  in  the  mind,  and  we  start, 
as  it  were,  into  recollection  that  we  are  dreaming  between  sleep- 
ing and  waking. 

If  the  judgment  sleeps  whilst  the  imagination  keeps  awake, 


268  AN  ESSAY  ON  DREAMS. 

the  dream  will  be  a  riotous  assemblage  of  mis-shapen  images  and 
ranting  ideas,  and  the  more  active  the  imagination  is,  the  wilder 
the  dream  will  be.  The  most  inconsistent  and  the  most  impos- 
sible things  will  appear  right ;  because  that  faculty,  whose  pro- 
vince it  is  to  keep  order,  is  in  a  state  of  absence.  The  master 
of  the  school  is  gone  out,  and  the  boys  are  in  an  uproar. 

If  the  memory  sleeps,  we  shall  have  no  other  knowledge  of 
the  dream  than  that  we  have  dreamt,  without  knowing  what  it 
was  •  bout.  In  this  case  it  is  sensation,  rather  then  recollection, 
that  acts.  The  dream  has  given  us  some  sense  of  pain  or  trou- 
ble, and  we  feel  it  as  a  hurt,  rather  than  remember  it  is  as  a  vision. 

If  memory  only  slumbers,  we  shall  have  a  faint  remembrance 
of  the  dream,  and  after  a  few  minutes  it  will  sometimes  happen 
that  the  principal  passages  of  the  dream  will  occur  to  us  more 
fully.  The  cause  of  this  is  that  the  memory  will  sometimes 
continue  slumbering  or  sleeping  after  we  are  awake  ourselves, 
and  that  so  fully,  that  it  may,  and  sometimes  does  happen  that 
we  do  not  immediately  recollect  where  we  are.  nor  what  we 
have  been  about,  or  have  to  do.  But  when  the  memory  starts 
into  wakefulness,  it  brings  the  knowledge  of  these  things  back 
upon  us,  like  a  flood  of  light,  and  sometimes  the  dream  with  it. 

But  the  most  curious  circumstances  of  the  mind  in  a  state 
of  dream,  is  the  power  it  has  to  become  the  agent  of  every  per- 
son, character  and  thing,  of  which  it  dreams,  it  carries  on  con- 
versation with  several,  asks  questions,  hears  answers,  gives  and 
receives  information,  and  it  acts  all  these  parts  itself. 

But  however  various  and  eccentric  the  imagination  may  be 
in  the  creation  of  images  and  ideas,  it  cannot  supply  the  place 
of  memory  with  respect  to  things  that  are  forgotten  when  wo 
are  awake.  For  example,  if  we  have  forgotten  the  name  of  a 
person,  and  dream  of  seeing  him  and  asking  him  his  name,  he 
cannot  tell  it ;  for  it  is  ourselves  asking  ourselves  the  question. 

But  though  the  imagination  cannot  supply  the  place  of  rea) 
memory,  it  has  the  wild  faculty  of  counterfeiting  memory.  It 
dreams  of  persons  it  never  knew,  and  talks  with  them  as  if  it 
remembered  them  as  old  acquaintances.  It  relates  circum- 
stances that  never  happened,  and  tells  them  as  if  they  had 
happened.  It  goes  to  places  that  never  existed,  and  knows 
where  all  the  streets  and  houses  are,  as  if  it  had  been  there 
before.  The  scenes  it  creates  often  appear  as  scenes  remem- 
bered. It  will  sometimes  act  a  dream  within  a  dream,  and,  in 
the  delusion  of  dreaming,  tell  a  dream  it  never  dreamed,  and 


AN  ESSAY  ON  DREAMS.  269 

tell  it  as  if  it  was  from  memory.  It  may  also  be  remarked 
that  the  imagination  in  &  dream  has  no  idea  of  time,  as  time. 
It  counts  only  by  circumstances;  and  if  a  succession  of  circum- 
stances pass  in  a  dream  that  -would  require  a  great  length  of 
time  to  accomplish  them,  it  will  appear  to  the  dreamer  that  a 
length  of  time  equal  thereto  has  passed  also. 

As  this  is  the  state  of  the  mind  in  dream,  it  may  rationally 
be  said  that  every  person  is  mad  once  in  twenty -four  hours,  for 
were  he  to  act  in  the  day  as  he  dreams  in  the  night,  he  would 
be  confined  for  a  lunatic.  In  a  state  of  wakefulness,  those 
three  faculties  being  all  alive,  and  acting  in  union,  constitute 
the  rational  man.  In  dreams  it  is  otherwise,  and,  therefore, 
that  state  which  is  called  insanity,  appears  to  be  no  other  than 
A  disunion  of  those  faculties,  and  a  cessation  of  the  judgment 
during  wakefulness,  that  we  so  often  experience  during  sleep; 
And  idiotcy,  into  which  some  persons  have  fallen,  is  that  cessa- 
tion of  all  the  faculties  of  which  we  can  be  sensible  when  we 
happen  to  wake  before  our  memory. 

In  this  view  of  the  mind  how  absurd  it  is  to  place  reliance 
upon  dreams,  and  how  much  more  absurd  to  make  them  a 
foundation  for  religion;  yet  the  belief  that  Jesus  Christ  is  the 
Son  of  God,  begotten  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  a  being  never  heard 
of  before,  stands  on  the  story  of  an  old  man's  dream.  "And 
behold  the  angel  of  the  Lord  appeared  to  Joseph  in  a  dream, 
saying,  Joseph,  thou  son  of  David,  fear  not  thou  to  take  unto 
thee  Mary  thy  wife,  for  that  which  is  conceived  in  her  is  of  the 
Holy  Ghost" — Matt.  chap.  i.  verse  20. 

After  this  we  have  the  childish  stories  of  three  or  four  other 
•dreams?  about  Joseph  going  into  Egypt;  about  his  coming 
back  again ;  about  this,  and  about  that,  and  this  story  of 
dreams  has  thrown  Europe  into  a  dream  for  more  than  a 
thousand  years.  All  the  efforts  that  nature,  reason,  and  con- 
science have  made  to  awaken  man  from  it,  have  been  ascribed 
by  priestcraft  and  superstition  to  the  workings  of  the  devil, 
and  had  it  not  been  for  the  American  revolution,  which,  by 
•establishing  the  universal  right  of  conscience,  first  opened  the 
vay  to  free  discussion,  and  for  the  French  revolution  which 
followed,  this  religion  of  dreams  had  continued  to  be  preached, 
•and  that  after  it  had  ceased  to  be  believed.  Those  who 
preached  it  and  did  not  believe  it,  still  believed  the  delusion 
necessary.  They  were  not  bold  enough  to  b^  honest,  nor 
'honest  enough  to  be  bold. 


270  AN  ESSAY  ON  DREAMS. 

[Every  new  religion,  like  a  new  play,  requires  a  new  appar- 
atus of  dresses  and  machinery,  to  fit  the  new  characters  it 
creates.  The  story  of  Christ  in  the  New  Testament  brings  a 
new  being  upon  the  stage,  which  it  calls  the  Holy  Ghost;  and 
the  story  of  Abraham,  the  father  of  the  Jews,  in  the  Old 
Testament,  gives  existence  to  a  new  order  of  beings  it  calls 
Angels. — There  was  no  Holy  Ghost  before  the  time  of  Christ, 
nor  Angels  before  the  time  of  Abraham. — We  hear  nothing  of 
these  winged  gentlemen  till  more  than  two  thousand  years, 
according  to  the  Bible  chronology,  from  the  time  they  say  the 
heavens,  the  earth,  and  all  therein  were  made : — After  this, 
they  hop  about  as  thick  as  birds  in  a  grove; — The  first  we  hear 
of,  pays  his  addresses  to  Hagar  in  the  wilderness;  then  three 
of  them  visit  Sarah ;  another  wrestles  a  fall  with  Jacob ;  and 
these  birds  of  passage  having  found  their  way  to  earth  and 
back,  are  continually  coming  and  going.  They  eat  and  drink, 
and  up  again  to  heaven.  What  they  do  with  the  food  they 
carry  away,  the  Bible  does  not  tell  us. — Perhaps  they  do  as  th& 
birds  do.  *  * 

One  would  think  that  a  system  loaded  with  such  gross  and 
vulgar  absurdities  as  scripture  religion  is,  could  never  have- 
obtained  credit;  yet  we  have  seen  what  priestcraft  and  fanati- 
cism could  do,  and  credulity  believe. 

From  angels  in  the  Old  Testament  we  get  to  prophets,  to- 
witches,  to  seers  of  visions,  and  dreamers  of  dreams,  and  some- 
times we  are  told,  as  in  1  Samuel,  chap.  ix.  ver  15,  that  God 
whispers  in  the  ear — At  other  times  we  are  not  told  how  the 
impulse  was  given,  or  whether  sleeping  or  waking. — In  2  Sam. 
chap.  xxiv.  ver.  1,  it  is  said,  "And  again  the  anger  of  the  Lord 
was  kindled  against  Israel,  and  he  moved  David  against  them 
to  say,  Go,  number  Israel  and  Judah.  — And  in  1  Chron.  chap. 
xxi.  ver.  1,  when  the  same  story  is  again  related,  it  is  said, 
"And  Satan  stood  up  against  Israel,  and  moved  David  to  number 
Israel." 

Whether  this  was  done  sleeping  or  waking,  we  are  not  told, 
hut  it  seems  that  David,  whom  they  call  a  man  after  God's 
own  heart,"  did  not  know  by  what  spirit  he  was  moved,  and  as 
to  the  men  called  inspired  penmen,  they  agree  so  well  about 
the  matter,  that  in  one  book  they  say  that  it  was  God,  and  ux 
tne  other  that  it  was  the  Devil 

The  idea  that  writers  of  the  Old  Testament  had  of  God  was 
Boisterous,  contemptible,  and  vulgar. — They  make  him  the  Mj*r» 


AN   ESSAY  ON  DREAMS.  271 

of  the  Jews,  the  fighting  God  of  Israel,  the  conjuring  God  of 
their  Priests  and  Prophets. — They  tell  as  many  fables  of  him 
as  the  Greeks  told  of  Hercules.  ******** 

They  make  their  God  to  say  exultingly,  "  /  will  get  me  honor 
upon  Pharaoh  and  upon  his  Host,  upon  his  Chariots  and  upon 
his  Horsemen" — And  that  he  may  keep  his  word,  they  make 
him  set  a  trap  in  the  Red  Sea,  in  the  dead  of  the  night,  for 
Pharaoh,  his  host,  and  his  horses,  and  drown  them  as  a  rat- 
catcher would  do  so  many  rats — Great  honor  indeed !  the  story 
of  Jack  the  giant-killer  is  better  told! 

They  pit  him  against  the  Egyptian  magicians  to  conjure  with 
him,  the  three  first  essays  are  a  dead  match — Each  party  turns 
his  rod  into  a  serpent,  the  rivers  into  blood  and  creates  frogs  ; 
but  upon  the  fourth  the  God  of  the  Israelites  obtains  the  laurel, 
he  covers  them  all  over  with  lice ! — The  Egyptian  magicians 
cannot  do  the  same,  and  this  lousy  triumph  proclaims  the  vic- 
tory ! 

They  make  their  God  to  rain  fire  and  brimstone  upon  Sodom 
and  Gomorrah,  and  belch  fire  and  smoke  upon  mount  Sinai, 
as  if  he  was  the  Pluto  of  the  lower  regions.  They  make  him 
salt  up  Lot's  wife  like  pickled  pork  ;  they  make  him  pass  like 
Shakespeare's  Queen  Mab  into  the  brain  of  their  priests, 
prophets,  and  prophetesses,  and  tickle  them  into  dreams,  and 
after  making  him  play  all  kind  of  tricks  they  confound  him 
with  Satan,  and  leave  us  at  a  loss  to  know  what  God  they 
meant! 

This  is  the  descriptive  God  of  the  Old  Testament ;  and  as  to 
the  New,  though  the  authors  of  it  have  varied  the  scene,  they 
have  continued  the  vulgarity. 

Is  man  ever  to  be  the  dupe  of  priestcraft,  the  slave  of  super- 
stition 1  Is  he  never  to  have  just  ideas  of  his  Creator?  It  is 
better  not  to  believe  there  is  a  God,  than  to  believe  of  him 
falsely.  When  we  behold  the  mighty  universe  that  surrounds 
us,  and  dart  our  contemplation  into  the  eternity  of  space,  filled 
with  innumerable  orbs,  revolving  in  eternal  harmony,  how 
paltry  must  the  tales  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  profanely 
called  the  word  of  God,  appear  to  thoughtful  man  ?  The  stu- 
pendous wisdom  and  unerring  order,  that  reign  and  govern 
throughout  this  wondrous  whole,  and  call  us  to  reflection,  put  to 
shame  the  Bible  I — The  God  of  eternity  and  of  all  that  is  real, 
is  not  the  God  of  passing  dreams,  and  shadows  of  man's  imagi- 
nation !  The  God  of  truth  is  not  the  God  of  fable ;  the  belief 


272  AN    ESSAY   ON   DREAMS. 

of  a  God  begotten  and  a  God  crucified,  is  a  God  blasphemed 
— it  is  making  a  profane  use  of  reason.]* 

I  shall  conclude  this  Essay  on  Dreams  with  the  two  first 
verses  of  the  34th  chapter  of  Ecclesiasticus,  one  of  the  books 
of  the  Apocrypha. 

"  The  hopes  of  a  man  void  of  understanding  are  vian  and 
false ;  and  dreams  lift  up  fools —  Wlwso  regardeth  dreams  is 
like  him  that  catcheth  at  a  shadow,  and  followeth  after  the 
wind." 

*  Mr.  Paine  must  have  been  in  an  ill  humor  when  he  wrote  the  passage 
inclosed  in  crotchets,  commencing  at  page  270 ;  and  probably  on  reviewing 
it,  and  discovering  exceptionable  clauses,  was  induced  to  reject  the  whole, 
as  it  does  not  appear  in  the  edition  published  by  himself.  But  having  ob- 
obtained  the  original  in  the  hand  writing  of  Mr.  P.  and  deeming  some  of  the 
remarks  worthy  of  being  preserved,  I  have  thought  proper  to  restore  the 
passage  with  the  exception  of  the  objectionable  parte. — EDITOB. 


A  LETTER  TO  A  FKiKND.  ??3 


A  LETTER: 

BEING  AN  ANSWEB  TO  A  FfllEND  ON  THE  PUBLIOATZOH  O» 

THE  AGE  OF  REASON. 

PARIS,  May  12,  1797. 

In  your  letter  of  the  20th  of  March,  you  gave  me  several 
quotations  from  the  Bible,  which  you  call  the  word  of  God,  to 
show  me  that  my  opinions  on  religion  are  wrong,  and  I  could 
give  you  as  many,  from  the  same  book,  to  show  that  yours  are 
not  right;  consequently,  then,  the  Bible  decides  nothing,  because 
it  decides  any  way,  and  every  way,  one  chooses  to  make  it. 

But  by  what  authority  do  you  call  the  Bible  the  word  of 
God  ?  for  this  is  the  first  point  to  be  settled.  It  is  not  your 
calling  it  so  that  makes  it  so,  any  more  than  the  Mahometans 
calling  the  Koran  the  word  of  God  makes  the  Koran  to  be  so. 
The  Popish  Councils  of  Nice  and  Laodicea,  about  350  years 
after  the  time  that  the  person  called  Jesus  Christ  is  said  to- 
have  lived,  voted  the  books,  that  now  compose  what  is  called 
the  New  Testament,  to  be  the  word  of  God.  This  was  done  by 
yeas  and  nays,  as  we  now  vote  a  law.  The  Pharisees  of  the 
second  Temple,  after  the  Jews  returned  from  captivity  in  Baby 
Ion.  did  the  same  by  the  books  that  now  compose  the  Old  Tes- 
tament, and  this  is  all  the  authority  there  is,  which  to  me  is  no- 
authority  at  all.  I  am  as  capable  of  judging  for  myself  as  they 
were,  and  I  think  more  so,  because,  as  they  made  a  living  by 
their  religion,  they  had  a  self-interest  in  the  vote  they  gave. 

You  may  have  an  opinion  that  a  man  is  inspired,  but  you 
cannot  prove  it,  nor  can  you  have  any  proof  of  it  yourself,  be- 
cause you  cannot  see  into  his  mind  in  order  to  know  how  he 
comes  by  his  thoughts,  and  the  same  is  the  case  with  the  word 
revelation. — There  can  be  no  evidence  of  such  a  thing,  for  you 
can  no  more  prove  revelation  than  you  can  prove  what  another 
man  dreams  of,  neither  can  he  prove  it  himself. 

It  is  often  said  in  the  Bible  that  God  spake  unto  Moses, 
but  how  do  you  know  that  God  spake  unto  Moses  ?     Because, 
18 


274-  A  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND. 

you  will  say,  the  Bible  says  so.  The  Koran  says,  that  God 
spake  unto  Mahomet;  do  you  believe  that  too?  No.  Why 
not?  Because,  you  will  say,  you  do  not  believe  it;  and  so  be- 
cause you  do,  and  because  you  don't,  is  all  the  reason  you  can 
give  for  believing  or  disbelieving,  except  you  will  say  that  Ma- 
homet was  an  impostor.  And  how  do  you  know  Moses  was 
not  an  impostor  ?  For  my  own  part,  I  believe  that  all  are  im- 
postors who  pretend  to  hold  verbal  communication  with  the 
Deity.  It  is  the  way  by  which  the  world  has  been  imposed 
upon ;  but  if  you  think  otherwise  you  have  the  same  right  to 
your  opinion  that  I  have  to  mine,  and  must  answer  for  it  in  the 
same  manner.  But  all  this  does  not  settle  the  point,  whether 
the  Bible  be  the  word  of  God,  or  not.  It  is,  therefore,  neces- 
sary to  go  a  step  further.  The  case  then  is : 

You  form  your  opinion  of  God  from  the  account  given  of  him 
in  the  Bible;  and  I  form  my  opinion  of  the  Bible  from  the 
wisdom  and  goodness  of  God,  manifested  in  the  structure  of  the 
universe,  and  in  all  the  works  of  the  Creation.  The  result  in 
these  two  cases  will  be,  that  you,  by  taking  the  Bible  for  your 
-standard,  will  have  a  bad  opinion  of  God ;  and  I,  by  taking 
Ood  for  my  standard,  shall  have  a  bad  opinion  of  the  Bible. 

The  Bible  represents  God  to  be  a  changeable,  passionate 
vindictive  being;  making  a  world,  and  then  drowning  it, 
-afterwards  repenting  of  what  he  had  done,  and  promising  not 
to  do  so  again.  Setting  one  nation  to  cut  the  throats  of  an- 
other, and  stopping  the  course  of  the  sun  till  the  butchery 
should  be  done.  But  the  works  of  God  in  the  Creation  preach 
to  us  another  doctrine.  In  that  vast  volume  we  see  nothing 
to  give  us  the  idea  of  a  changeable,  passionate,  vindictive  God  ; 
every  thing  we  there  behold  impresses  us  with  a  contrary  idea  ; 
that  of  unchangeableness  and  of  eternal  order,  harmony,  and 
goodness.  The  sun  and  the  seasons  return  at  their  appoin- 
ted time,  and  every  thing  in  the  Creation  proclaims  that  God 
is  unchangeable.  Now,  which  am  I  to  believe:  a  book  that 
any  impostor  may  make,  and  call  the  word  of  God,  or  the  Crea- 
tion itself,  which  none  but  an  Almighty  Power  could  make  ? 
for  the  Bible-  says  one  thing,  and  the  Creation  says  the  contrary. 
The  Bible  represents  God  with  all  the  passions  of  a  mortal,  and 
the  Creation  proclaims  him  with  all  the  attributes  of  a  God. 

It  is  from  the  Bible  that  man  has  learned  cruelty,  rapine, 
•and  murder ;  for  the  belief  of  a  cruel  God  makes  a  cruel  man. 
That  blood-thirsty  man,  called  the  prophet  Samuel,  makes  God 


.A.  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND.  275 

to  say  (1  Sam.  chap.  xv.  ver.  3),  "  Now  go  and  smite  Amalek 
and  utterly  destroy  all  that  they  have,  and  spare  them  not,  but 
slay  both  man  and  woman,  infant  and  suckling,  ox  and  sheep, 
Darnel  and  ass." 

That  Samuel,  or  some  other  impostor,  might  say  this,  is 
what,  at  this  distance  of  time,  can  neither  be  proved  nor  dis- 
proved, but,  in  my  opinion,  it  is  blasphemy  to  say,  or  to  believe 
that  God  said  it  All  our  ideas  of  justice  and  goodness  of  God 
revolt  at  the  impious  cruelty  of  the  Bible.  It  is  not  a  God, 
just  and  good,  but  a  devil,  under  the  name  of  God,  that  the 
Bible  describes. 

What  makes  this  pretended  order  to  destroy  the  Amalekites 
appear  the  worse,  is  the  reason  given  for  it.  The  Amalekites, 
four  hundred  years  before,  according  to  the  account  in  Exodus, 
ohap  17,  (but  which  has  the  appearance  of  fable  from  the 
magical  account  it  gives  of  Moses  holding  up  his  hands,)  had 
opposed  the  Israelites  coming  into  their  country,  and  this  the 
Amalekites  had  a  right  to  do,  because  the  Israelites  were  the 
invaders,  as  the  Spaniards  were  the  invaders  of  Mexico ;  and 
this  opposition  by  the  Amalekites,  at  that  time,  is  given  as  a 
reason  that  the  men,  women,  infants  and  sucklings,  sheep  and 
oxen,  camels  and  asses,  that  were  born  four  hundred  years  after- 
wards, should  be  put  to  death ;  and  to  complete  the  horror, 
Samuel  hewed  Agag,  the  chief  of  the  Amalekites,  in  pieces,  as 
you  would  hew  a  stick  of  wood.  I  will  bestow  a  few  observa- 
tions on  this  case. 

In  the  first  place,  nobody  knows  who  the  author,  or  writer, 
of  the  book  of  Samuel  was,  and,  therefore,  the  fact  itself  has 
no  other  proof  than  anonymous  or  hearsay  evidence,  which  is 
no  evidence  at  all.  In  the  second  place,  this  anonymous  book 
says,  that  this  slaughter  was  done  by  the  express  command  of 
God  :  but  all  our  ideas  of  the  justice  and  goodness  of  God  give 
the  lie  to  the  book,  and  as  I  never  will  believe  any  book  that 
ascribes  cruelty  and  injustice  to  God,  I,  therefore,  reject  the 
Bible  as  unworthy  of  credit. 

As  I  have  now  given  you  my  reasons  for  believing  that  the 
Bible  is  not  the  word  of  God,  and  that  it  is  a  falsehood,  I  have 
a  right  to  ask  you  your  reasons  for  believing  the  contrary  ;  but 
I  know  you  can  give  me  none,  except  that  you  were  educated  to 
believe  the  Bible,  and  as  the  Turks  give  the  same  reason  for 
believing  the  Koran,  it  is  evident  that  education  makes  all  the 
difference,  and  that  reason  and  truth  have  nothing  to  do  in  the 


276  A  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND. 

case.  You  believe  in  the  Bible  from  the  accident  of  birth,  and 
the  Turks  believe  in  the  Koran  from  the  same  accident,  and 
each  calls  the  other  infidel. — But  leaving  the  prejudice  of  educa- 
tion out  of  the  case,  the  unprejudiced  truth  is,  that  all  are  inn- 
dels  who  believe  falsely  of  God,  whether  they  draw  their  creed 
from  the  Bible,  or  from  the  Koran,  from  the  Old  Testament  or 
from  the  New. 

When  you  have  examined  the  Bible  with  the  attention  that 
I  have  done  (for  I  do  not  think  you  know  much  about  it),  and 
permit  yourself  to  have  just  ideas  of  God,  you  will  most  proba- 
bly believe  as  I  do.  But  I  wish  you  to  know  that  this  answer 
to  your  letter  is  not  written  for  the  purpose  of  changing  your 
opinion.  It  is  written  to  satisfy  you,  and  some  other  friends 
whom  I  esteem,  that  my  disbelief  of  the  Bible  is  founded  on  a 
pure  and  religious  belief  in  God;  for,  in  my  opinion,  the  Bible- 
is  a  gross  libel  against  the  justice  and  goodness  of  God>  m 
almost  every  part  of  it. 

THOMAS  PAINK. 


CONTRADICTORY  DOCTRINES  IN  NEW  TESTAMENT.     277 


CONTRADICTORY  DOCTRINES  IN  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT, 

BETWEEN 

MATTHEW   AND    MASK. 


IN  the  New  Testament,  Mark,  chap,  xvi  ver.  16,  it  is  said : 
"  He  that  believeth  and  is  baptized  shall  be  saved ;  he  that  be- 
lieveth  not  shall  be  damned."  This  is  making  salvation,  or,  in 
other  words,  the  happiness  of  man  after  this  life,  to  depend 
entirely  on  believing,  or  on  what  Christians  call  faith. 

But  the  25th  chapter  of  The  gospel  according  to  Matthew 
makes  Jesus  Christ  to  preach  a  direct  contrary  doctrine  to  The 
Gospel  according  to  Mark  ;  for  it  makes  salvation,  or  the  future 
happiness  of  man,  to  depend  entirely  on  good  works  ;  and  those 
good  works  are  not  works  done  to  God,  for  he  needs  them  not, 
but  good  works  done  to  man. 

The  passage  referred  to  in  Matthew  is  the  account  there 
given  of  what  is  called  the  last  day,  or  the  day  of  judgment, 
where  the  whole  world  is  represented  to  be  divided  into  two 
parts,  the  righteous  and  the  unrighteous,  metaphorically  called 
the  sheep  and  the  goats. 

To  the  one  part  called  the  righteous,  or  the  sheep,  it  says, 
"  Come  ye  blessed  of  my  father,  inherit  the  kingdom  prepared 
for  you  from  the  beginning  of  the  world — for  I  was  an  hungered 
and  ye  gave  me  meat — I  was  thirsty  and  ye  gave  me  drink — I 
was  a  stranger  and  ye  took  me  in — Naked  and  ye  clothed  me 
—  I  was  sick  and  ye  visited  me — I  was  in  prison  and  ye  came 
unto  me  " 

"  Then  shall  the  righteous  answer  him,  saying,  Lord,  when 
saw  we  thee  an  hungered  and  fed  thee,  or  thirsty  and  gave  thee 
drink?  When  saw  we  thee  a  stranger  and  took  thee  in,  or 
naked  and  clothed  theel  Or  when  saw  we  thee  sick  and  in 
prison,  and  came  unto  thee  ? 

"And  the  king  shall  answer  and  say  unto  them,  Verily  I  say 
unto  you,  in  as  much  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of 
thes"  'my  brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me." 


278    CONTRADICTORY  DOCTRINES  IN  NEW  TESTAMENT. 

Here  is  nothing  about  believing  in  Christ — nothing  about 
that  phantom  of  the  imagination  called  Faith.  The  works 
here  spoken  of,  are  works  of  humanity  and  benevolence,  or,  in 
other  words,  an  endeavor  to  make  God's  creation  happy  Here 
is  nothing  about  preaching  and  making  long  prayers,  as  if  God 
must  be  dictated  to  by  man;  nor  about  building  churches  and 
meeting-houses,  nor  hiring  priests  to  pray  and  preach  in  them. 
Here  is  nothing  about  predestination,  that  lust  which  seme  men 
have  for  damning  one  another.  Here  is  nothing  about  baptism, 
whether  by  sprinkling  or  plunging,  nor  about  any  of  those 
ceremonies  for  which  the  Christian  church  has  been  fighting, 
persecuting,  and  burning  each  other,  ever  since  the  Christian 
church  began. 

If  it  be  asked,  why  do  not  priests  preach  the  doctrine  con- 
tained in  this  chapter?  The  answer  is  easy ; — they  are  not  fond 
of  practising  it  themselves.  It  does  not  answer  for  their  trade 
They  had  rather  get*  than  give-  Charity  with  them  begins  and 
ends  at  home. 

Had  it  been  said,  Come  ye  blessed,  ye  have  been  liberal  in 
paying  the  preachers  of  the  word  ye  have  contributed  largely 
towards  building  churches  and  meeting-houses^  there  is  not  a 
hired  priest  in  Christendom  but  would  have  thundered  it  con- 
tinually in  the  ears  of  his  congregation,  But  as  it  is  altogether 
on  good  works  done  to  men,  the  priests  pass  over  it  in  silence, 
and  they  will  abuse  me  for  bringing  it  into  notice. 

THOMAS  PAINE. 


THOUGHTS  ON  A  FUTURE  STAlJK.  279 


MY  PRIVATE  THOUGHTS 

ON  A  FUTURE  STATIC. 


I  HAVE  said,  in  the  first  part  of  the  tf^ge  of  Re^cn,"  that 
"/  hopejor  happiness  after  this  life."  llis  hope  is  comfortable 
to  me,  and  I  presume  not  to  go  beyond  the  comfortable  idea  of 
hope,  with  respect  to  a  future  state. 

I  consider  myself  in  the  hands  of  my  Creator,  and  that  he 
will  dispose  of  me  after  this  life  consistently  with  his  justice 
and  goodness.  I  leave  all  these  matteis  to  him,  as  my  Creator 
and  friend,  and  I  hold  it  to  be  praiuinption  in  man  to  make 
an  article  of  faith  as  to  what  the  Creacor  will  do  with  us  here- 
after. 

I  do  not  believe  because  a  man  and  a  woman  make  a  child, 
that  it  imposes  on  the  Creator  the  unavoidable  obligation  of 
keeping  the  being  so  made  in  eto/ual  existence  hereafter.  It 
is  in  his  power  to  do  so,  or  not  co  do  so,  and  it  is  not  in  our 
power  to  decide  which  he  will  do. 

The  book  called  the  New  Tebtament,  which  I  hold  to  be 
fabulous  and  have  shown  to  be  /alse,  gives  an  account  in  the 
25th  chapter  of  Matthew,  of  what  is  there  called  the  last  day, 
or  the  day  of  judgment.  The  whole  world,  according  to  that 
account,  is  divided  into  two  parts,  the  righteous  and  the  un- 
righteous, figuratively  called  the  sheep  and  the  goats.  They  are 
then  to  receive  their  sentence.  To  the  one,  figuratively  called 
the  sheep,  it  says,  "Come  ye  blessed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the 
kingdom  prepared  for  you  from  the  foundation  of  the  world." 
To  the  other,  figuratively  called  the  goats,  it  says,  "Depart 
from  me,  ye  cursed,  into  everlasting  fire,  prepared  for  the  devil 
and  his  angels." 

Now  the  case  is,  the  world  cannot  be  thus  divided — the 
moral  world,  like  the  physical  world,  is  composed  of  numerous 
degrees  of  character,  running  imperceptibly  the  one  into  the 
other,  in  such  a  manner  that  no  fixed  point  of  division  can  be 
found  in  either.  That  point  is  nowhere,  or  is  everywhere. 


280  THOUGHTS  ON  A   FUTURE  STATE. 

The  whole  world  might  be  divided  into  two  parts  numerically, 
but  not  as  to  moral  character;  and,  therefore,  the  metaphor  of 
dividing  them,  as  sheep  and  goats  can  be  divided,  whose  differ- 
ence is  marked  by  their  external  figure,  is  absurd.  All  sheep 
are  still  sheep;  all  goats  are  still  goats;  it  is  their  physical 
nature  to  be  so.  But  one  part  of  the  world  are  not  all  good 
alike,  nor  the  other  part  all  wicked  alike.  There  are  some 
exceedingly  good ;  others  exceedingly  wicked.  There  is  another 
description  of  men  who  cannot  be  ranked  with  either  the  one 
or  the  other — they  belong  neither  to  the  sheep  nor  the  goats. 
My  own  opinion  is,  that  those  whose  lives  have  been  spent 
in  doing  good,  and  endeavoring  to  make  their  fellow-mortaU, 
happy,  for  this  is  the  only  way  in  which  we  can  serve  God, 
will  be  happy  hereafter:  and  that  the  very  wicked  will  meet 
with  some  punishment.  This  is  my  opinion.  It  is  consistent 
with  my  idea  of  God's  justice,  and  wifch  the  reason  that  God 
has  given  me. 

THOMAS  PAINE. 


LETTER  TO  CAMILLE  JORDAN.          281 


LETTER  TO  CAMILLE  JORDAN, 

ONE  OP  THK  COUNCIL  OP  FIVE  HUNDRED, 

OCCASIONED  BY  HIS  REPORT  ON  THE  PRIESTS,  PUBLIC 
WORSHIP,  AND  THE  BELLS. 

CITIZEN  REPRESENTATIVE, 

As  everything  in  your  report,  relating  to  what  you  call 
worship,  connects  itself  with  the  books  called  the  Scriptures,  I 
begin  with  a  quotation  therefrom.  It  may  serve  to  give  us 
some  idea  of'  the  fanciful  origin  and  fabrication  of  those  books. 
2  Chronicles,  chap,  xxxiv.  ver.  14,  etc.  "Hilkiah,  the  priest, 
found  the  book  of  the  law  of  the  Lord  given  by  Moses.  And 
Hilkiah,  the  priest,  said  to  Shaphan,  the  scribe,  I  have  found 
the  book  of  the  law  in  the  house  of  the  Lord,  and  Hilkiah 
-delivered  the  book  to  Shaphan.  And  Shaphan,  the  scribe,  told 
the  king  (Josiah),  saying,  Hilkiah,  the  priest  hath  given  me  a 
book." 

This  pretended  finding  was  about  a  thousand  years  after  the 
time  that  Moses  is  said  to  have  lived.  Before  this  pretended 
finding,  there  was  no  such  thing  practised  or  known  in  the 
world  as  that  which  is  called  the  law  of  Moses.  This  being  the 
•case,  there  is  every  apparent  evidence  that  the  books  called  the 
books  of  Moses  (and  which  make  the  first  part  of  what  are 
called  the  Scriptures)  and  forgeries  contrived  between  a  priest 
and  a  limb,*  Hilkiah,  and  Shaphan,  the  scribe,  a  thousand 
years  after  Moses  is  said  to  have  been  dead. 

Thus  much  for  the  first  part  of  the  Bible.  Every  other  part 
is  marked  with  circumstances  equally  suspicious.  We  ought, 
therefore,  to  be  reverentially  careful  how  we  ascribe  books  as 
his  word,  of  which  there  is  no  evidence,  and  against  which 
there  is  abundant  evidence  to  the  contrary,  and  every  cause  to 
suspect  imposition. 

In  your  report  you  speak  continually  of  something  by  the 

*  It  happens  that  Camille  Jordan  is  a  limb  of  the  law. 


282          LETTER  TO  CAMILLE  JORDAN. 

name  of  worship,  and  you  confine  yourself  to  speak  of  one  kind 
only,  as  if  there  were  but  one,  and  that  one  was  unquestionably 
true. 

The  modes  of  worship  are  as  various  as  the  sects  are 
numerous;  and  amidst  all  this  variety  and  multiplicity  there 
is  but  one  article  of  belief  in  which  every  religion  in  the  world 
agrees.  That  article  has  universal  sanction.  It  is  the  belief 
of  a  God,  or  what  the  Greeks  described  by  the  word  Theism, 
and  the  Latins  by  that  of  Deism.  Upon  this  one  article  have 
been  erected  all  the  different  super-structures  of  creeds  and 
ceremonies  continually  warring  with  each  other  that  now  exist 
or  ever  existed.  Bnt  the  men  most  and  best  informed  upon 
the  subject  of  theology,  rest  themselves  upon  this  universal 
article,  and  hold  all  the  various  super-structures  erected  there- 
on, to  be  at  least  doubtful,  if  not  altogether  artificial. 

The  intellectual  part  of  religion  is  a  private  affair  between 
every  man  and  his  Maker,  and  in  which  no  third  party  has  any 
right  to  interfere.  The  practical  part  consists  in  our  doing 
good  to  each  other.  But  since  religion  has  been  made  into  a 
trade,  the  practical  part  has  been  made  to  consist  of  ceremonies 
performed  by  men  called  priests;  and  the  people  have  been 
amused  with  ceremonial  shows,  processions,  and  bells.*  By 
devices  of  this  kind  true  religion  has  been  banished  and  such 
means  have  been  found  out  to  extract  money  even  from  the 
pockets  of  the  poor,  instead  of  contributing  to  their  relief. 

*  The  precise  date  of  the  invention  of  bells  cannot  be  traced.  The  ancients, 
it  appears  from  Martial,  Juvenal,  Suetonius  and  others,  had  an  article 
named  tintinnabula,  (usually  translated  bell),  by  which  the  Romans  were 
summoned  to  their  baths  and  public  places.  It  seems  most  probable,  that 
the  description  of  bells  now  used  in  churches,  were  invented  about  the  year 
400,  and  generally  adopted  before  the  commencement  of  the  seventh  century. 
Previous  to  their  invention,  however,  sounding  brass,  and  sometimes  basins, 
were  used  ;  and  to  the  present  day  the  Greek  church  have  boards,  or  iron 
plates,  full  of  holes,  which  they  strike  with  a  hammer,  or  mallet,  to  summon 
the  priests  and  others  to  divine  service.  We  may  also  remark,  that  in  our 
own  country,  it  was  the  custom  in  monasteries  to  visit  every  person's  cell 
early  in  the  morning,  and  knock  on  the  door  with  a  similar  instrument, 
called  the  wakening  mallet — doubtless  no  very  pleasing  intrusion  on  the 
slumbers  of  the  Monks. 

But,  the  use  of  bells  having  been  established,  it  was  found  that  devils 
were  terrified  at  the  sound,  and  slunk  in  haste  away ;  in  consequence  of 
which  it  was  thought  necessary  to  baptize  them  in  a  solemn  manner,  which 
appears  to  have  been  first  none  by  Pope  John  XII.  A.D.  968.  A  record 
of  this  practice  still  exists  in  the  Tom  of  Lincoln,  and  the  great  Tom  at 
Oxford,  &c. 

Having  thus  laid  the  foundation  of  superstitious  veneration  in  the  hearts- 
of  the  common  people,  it  cannot  be  a  matter  of  surprise  that  they  were  soon 


LETTER  TO  CAMILLE  JORDAN.          283 

No  man  ought  to  make  a  living  by  religion.  It  is  dishonest 
so  to  do.  Religion  is  not  an  act  that  can  be  performed  by 
proxy.  One  person  cannot  act  religion  for  another.  Every 
person  must  perform  it  for  himself  :  and  all  that  a  priest  can 
do  is  to  take  from  him,  he  wants  nothing  but  his  money,  and 
then  to  riot  in  the  spoil  and  laugh  at  his  credulity. 

The  only  people,  as  a  professional  sect  of  Christians,  who 
provide  for  the  poor  of  their  society,  are  people  known  by  the 
name  of  Quakers.  Those  men  have  no  priests.  They  assemble 
quietly  in  their  places  of  meeting,  and  do  not  disturb  their 
neighbours  with  shows  and  noise  of  bells.  Religion  does  not 
unite  itself  to  show  and  noise.  True  religion  is  without  either. 
Where  there  is  both  there  is  no  true  religion. 

The  first  object. for  inquiry  in  all  cases,  more  especially  in 
matters  of  religious  concern,  is  TRUTH.  We  ought  to  inquire 
into  the  truth  of  whatever  we  are  taught  to  believe,  and  it  is 
certain  that  the  books  called  the  Scriptures  stand,  in  this  res- 
pect, in  more  than  a  doubtful  predicament.  They  have  been 
held  in  existence,  and  in  a  sort  of  credit  among  the  common 
class  of  people,  by  art,  terror,  and  persecution.  They  have  lit- 
tie  or  no  credit  among  the  enlightened  part,  but  they  have  been 
made  the  means  of  encumbering  the  world  with  a  numerous 

used  at  rejoicings,  and  high  festivals  in  the  church  (for  the  purpose  of  driv- 
ing away  any  evil  spirit  which  might  be  in  the  neighborhood)  as  well  as  on 
the  arrival  of  any  great  personage,  on  which  occasion  the  usual  fee  was  one 
penny. 

One  other  custom  remains  to  be  explained,  viz.,  tolling  bell  on  the  occasion 
of  any  person's  death,  a  custom  which,  in  the  manner  now  practised,  ia 
totally  different  from  its  original  institution.  It  appears  to  have  been  used 
as  early  as  the  7th  century,  when  bells  were  first  generally  used,  and  to  have 
been  denominated  the  soul  bell  fas  it  signified  the  departing  of  the  soul),  as 
also,  the  passing  bell.  Thus  Wheatly  tells  us,  "Our  church,  in  imitation 
of  the  Saints  of  former  ages,  calls  in  the  Minister  and  others  who  are  at 
hand,  to  assist  their  brother  in  his  last  extremity;  in  order  to  this,  she 
directs  a  bell  should  be  tolled  when  any  one  is  passing  out  of  this  life." 
Durand  also  says — ' '  When  any  one  is  dying,  bells  must  be  tolled,  that  the 
people  may  put  up  their  prayers  for  him ;  let  this  be  done  twice  for  a  woman, 
and  thrice  for  a  man.  If  for  a  clergyman,  as  many  times  as  he  had  orders ; 
and,  at  the  conclusion,  a  peal  on  all  the  bells,  to  distinguish  the  quality  of 
the  person  for  whom  the  people  are  to  put  up  their  prayers." — From  these 
passages,  it  appears  evident  that  the  bell  was  to  be  tolled  before  a  person's 
decease  rather  than  after,  as  at  the  present  day ;  and  that  the  object  was  to 
obtain  the  prayers  of  all  who  heard  it,  for  the  repose  of  the  soul  of  their 
departing  neighbor.  At  first,  when  the  tolling  took  place  after  the  person's 
decease,  it  was  deemed  superstitious,  and  was  partially  disused,  which  was 
found  materially  to  affect  the  revenue  of  the  church.  The  priesthood  having 
removed  the  objection,  bells  were  again  tolled,  upon  payment  of  the  custom- 
ary fees. — English  Paper, 


284  LETTER  TO   CAMILLE  JORDAN. 

priesthood,  who  have  fattened  on  the  labour  of  the  people,  and 
consumed  the  sustenance  that  ought  to  be  applied  to  the  widows 
and  the  poor. 

It  is  a  want  of  feeling  to  talk  of  priests  and  bells  whilst  so 
many  infants  are  perishing  in  the  hopitals,  and  aged  and  infirm 
poor  in  the  streets,  from  want  of  necessaries.  The  abundance 
that  France  produces  is  sufficient  for  every  want,  if  rightly  ap- 
plied ;  but  priests  and  bells,  like  articles  of  luxury,  ought  to  be 
the  least  articles  of  consideration. 

We  talk  of  religion.  Let  us  talk  of  truth  ;  for  that  which  is 
not  the  truth,  is  not  worthy  the  name  of  religion. 

We  see  different  parts  of  the  world  overspread  with  different 
books,  each  of  which,  though  contradictory  to  the  other,  is  said 
by  its  partisans,  to  be  of  divine  origin,  and  is  made  a  rule  of 
iaith  and  practice.  In  countries  under  despotic  governments, 
where  inquiry  is  always  forbidden,  the  people  are  condemned 
to  believe  as  they  have  been  taught  by  their  priests.  This  was 
for  many  centuries  the  case  in  France  :  but  this  link  in  the  chain 
of  slavery,  is  happily  broken  by  the  revolution;  and,  that  it 
may  never  be  ri vetted  again,  let  us  employ  a  part  of  the  liberty 
we  enjoy  in  scrutinizing  into  the  truth.  Let  us  leave  behind 
us  some  monument,  that  we  have  made  the  cause  and  honor  of 
our  Creator  an  object  of  our  care.  If  we  have  been  imposed 
upon  by  the  terrors  of  government  and  the  artifice  of  priests 
in  matters  of  religion,  let  us  do  justice  to  our  Creator  by  ex- 
amining into  the  case.  His  name  is  too  sacred  to  be  affixed  to 
anything  which  is  fabulous;  and  it  is  our  duty  to  inquire 
whether  we  believe,  or  encourage  the  people  to  believe,  in  fables 
or  in  facts. 

It  would  be  a  project  worthy  the  situation  we  are  in,  to  in- 
vite inquiry  of  this  kind.  We  have  committees  for  various 
objects ;  and,  among  others,  a  committee  for  bells.  We  have 
institutions,  academies,  and  societies  for  various  purposes;  but 
we  have  none  for  inquiring  into  historical  truth  in  matters  of 
religious  concern. 

They  show  us  certain  books  which  they  call  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures, the  word  of  God,  and  other  names  of  that  kind  ;  but  we 
ought  to  know  what  evidence  there  is  for  our  believing  them  to 
be  so,  and  at  what  time  they  originated  and  in  what  manner. 
We  know  that  men  could  make  books,  and  we  know  that  arti- 
fice and  superstition  could  give  them  a  name  ;  could  call  them 
sacred.  But  we  ought  to  be  careful  that  the  name  of  our  Crea- 


LETTER  TO   CAMILLE  JORDAN.  285 

tor  be  not  abused.  Let  then  all  the  evidence  with  respect  to 
those  books  be  made  a  subject  of  inquiry.  If  there  be  evidence 
to  warrant  our  belief  of  them,  let  us  encourage  the  propagation 
of  it:  but  if  not,  let  us  be  careful  not  to  promote  the  cause  of 
delusion  and  falsehood. 

I  have  already  spoken  of  the  Quakers — that  they  have  no 
priests,  no  bells — and  that  they  are  remarkable  for  their  care 
of  the  poor  of  their  society.  They  are  equally  as  remarkable 
for  the  education  of  their  children.  I  am  a  descendant  of  a 
family  of  that  profession;  my  father  was  a  Quaker;  and  I  pre- 
sume I  may  be  admitted  an  evidence  of  what  I  assert.  The 
seeds  of  good  principles,  and  the  literary  means  of  advancement 
in  the  world,  are  laid  in  early  life.  Instead,  therefore,  of  con- 
suming the  substance  of  the  nation  upon  priests,  whose  life 
at  best  is  a  life  of  idleness,  let  us  think  of  providing  for  the 
education  of  those  who  have  not  the  means  of  doing  it  them- 
selves. One  good  schoolmaster  is  of  more  use  than  a  hundred 
priests. 

If  we  look  back  at  what  was  the  condition  of  France  under 
the  ancient  regime,  we  cannot  acquit  the  priests  of  corrupting 
the  morals  of  the  nation.  Their  pretended  celibacy  led  them 
to  carry  debauchery  and  domestic  infidelity  into  every  family 
where  they  could  gain  admission;  and  their  blasphemous  pre- 
tensions to  forgive  sins,  encouraged  the  commission  of  them. 
Why  has  the  Revolution  of  France  been  stained  with  crimes 
which  the  Revolution  of  the  United  States  of  America  was  not  ? 
Men  are  physically  the  same  in  all  countries;  it  is  education  that 
makes  them  different.  Accustom  a  people  to  believe  that 
priests,  or  any  other  class  of  men,  can  forgive  sins,  and  you  will 
have  sins  in  abundance. 

I  come  now  to  speak  more  particularly  to  the  object  of  your 
report. 

You  claim  a  privilege  incompatible  with  the  constitution  and 
with  rights.  The  constitution  protects  equally,  as  it  ought  to 
do,  every  profession  of  religion;  it  gives  no  exclusive  privilege 
to  any.  The  churches  are  the  common  property  of  all  the 
people ;  they  are  national  goods,  and  cannot  be  given  exclu- 
sively to  any  one  profession,  because  the  right  does  not  exist  of 
giving  to  any  one  that  which  appertains  to  all.  It  would  be 
consistent  with  right  that  the  churches  be  sold,  and  the  money 
arising  therefrom  be  invested  as  a  fund  for  the  education  of 
•children  of  poor  parents  of  every  profession,  and,  if  more  than 


286          LETTER  TO  CAMILLE  JORDAN. 

sufficient  for  this  purpose,  that  the  surplus  be  appropriated  to 
the  support  of  the  aged  poor.  After  this,  every  profession  can 
erect  its  own  place  of  worship,  if  it  choose — support  its  own 
priests,  if  it  choose  to  have  any — or  perform  its  worship  with- 
out priests,  as  the  Quakers  do. 

As  to  the  bells,  they  are  a  public  nuisance.  If  one  profession 
is  to  have  bells,  another  has  the  right  to  use  the  instruments  of 
the  same  kind,  or  any  other  noisy  instrument.  Some  may 
choose  to  meet  at  the  sound  of  cannon,  another  at  the  beat  of 
drum,  another  at  the  sound  of  trumpets,  and  so  on,  until  the 
whole  becomes  a  scene  of  general  confusion.  But  if  we  per- 
mit ourselves  to  think  of  the  sick,  and  the  many  sleepless 
nights  and  days  they  undergo,  we  shall  feel  the  impropriety  of 
increasing  their  distress  by  the  noise  of  bells,  or  any  other  noisy 
instruments. 

Quiet  and  private  domestic  devotion  neither  offends  nor  in- 
commodes anybody;  and  the  constitution  has  wisely  guarded 
against  the  use  of  externals.  Bells  come  under  this  description, 
and  public  processions  still  more  so — Streets  and  highways  are 
for  the  accommodation  of  persons  following  their  several  occupa- 
tions, and  no  sectary  has  a  right  to  incommode  them — If  any 
one  has,  every  other  has  the  same ;  and  the  meeting  of  varioua 
and  contradictory  processions  would  be  tumultuous.  Those  who 
formed  the  constitution  had  wisely  reflected  upon  these  cases  ^ 
and,  whilst  they  were  careful  to  reserve  the  equal  right  of  every 
one,  they  restrained  every  one  from  giving  offence,  or  incom 
moding  another. 

Men,  who  through  a  long  and  tumultuous  scene,  have  lived' 
in  retirement  as  you  have  done,  may  think,  when  they  arrive 
at  power,  that  nothing  is  more  easy  than  to  put  the  world  to 
rights  in  an  instant ;  they  form  to  themselves  gay  ideas  at  the 
success  of  their  projects ;  but  they  forget  to  contemplate  the 
difficulties  that  attend  them,  and  the  dangers  with  which  they 
are  pregnant.  Alas !  nothing  is  so  easy  as  to  deceive  one's 
self.  Did  all  men  think,  as  you  think,  or  as  you  say,  your  plan 
•would  need  no  advocate,  because  it  would  have  no  opposer  ; 
but  there  are  millions  who  think  differently  to  you,  and  who 
are  determined  to  be  neither  the  dupes  nor  the  slaves  of  error 
or  design. 

It  is  your  good  fortune  to  arrive  at  power,  when  the  sun- 
shine of  prosperity  is  breathing  forth  after  a  long  and  stormy- 
night.  The  firmness  of  your  colleagues,  and  of  those  you  have- 


LETTER  TO   CAMILLE  JORDAN.  287 

succeeded — the  unabated  energy  of  the  Directory,  and  the  un- 
equalled bravery  of  the  armies  of  the  Republic,  have  made  the 
way  smooth  and  easy  to  you.  If  you  look  back  at  the  difficul- 
ties that  existed  when  the  constitution  commenced,  you  cannot 
but  be  confounded  with  admiration  at  the  difference  between 
that  time  and  now.  At  that  moment  the  Directory  were  placed 
like  the  forlorn  hope  of  an  army,  but  you  were  in  safe  retire- 
ment. They  occupied  the  post  of  honourable  danger,  and  they 
have  merited  well  of  their  country. 

You  talk  of  justice  and  benevolence,  but  you  begin  at  the 
wrong  end.  The  defenders  of  your  country,  and  the  deplor- 
able state  of  the  poor,  are  objects  of  prior  consideration  to 
priests  and  bells  and  gaudy  processions. 

You  talk  of  peace,  but  your  manner  of  talking  of  it  em- 
barrasses the  Directory  in  making  it,  and  serves  to  prevent  it. 
Had  you  been  an  actor  in  all  the  scenes  of  government  from 
its  commencement,  you  would  have  been  too  well  informed  to 
have  brought  forward  projects  that  operate  to  encourage  the 
enemy.  When  you  arrived  at  a  share  in  the  government,  you 
found  every  thing  tending  to  a  prosperous  issue.  A  series  of 
victories  unequalled  in  the  world,  and  in  the  obtaining  of  which 
you  had  no  share,  preceded  your  arrival.  Every  enemy  but 
one  was  subdued  ;  and  that  one,  (the  Hanoverian  government 
of  England)  deprived  of  every  hope,  and  a  bankrupt  in  all  its 
resources,  was  sueing  for  peace.  In  such  a  state  of  things,  no 
new  question  that  might  tend  to  agitate  and  anarchize  the  in- 
terior, ought  to  have  had  place  ;  and  the  project  you  propose 
tends  directly  to  that  end. 

Whilst  France  was  a  monarchy,  and  under  the  government 
of  those  things  called  kings  and  priests,  England  could  always 
defeat  her  ;  but  since  France  has  RISEN  TO  BE  A  REPUB- 
LIC, the  GOVERNMENT  OP  ENGLAND  crouches  beneath  her,  so 
great  is  the  difference  between  a  government  of  kings  and 
priests,  and  that  which  is  founded  on  the  system  of  represen- 
tation. But,  could  the  government  of  England  find  a  way, . 
under  the  sanction  of  your  report,  to  inundate  France  with  a 
flood  of  emigrant  priests,  she  would  find  also  the  way  to  dom- 
ineer as  before  ;  she  would  retrieve  her  shattered  finances  at 
your  expense,  and  the  ringing  of  bells  would  be  the  tocsin  of 
your  downfall. 

Did  peace  consist  in  nothing  but  the  cessation  of  war,  it 
would  not  be  difficult ;  but  the  terms  are  yet  to  be  arranged  ; 


288          LETTER  TO  CAMILLE  JORDAN. 

and  those  terras  will  be  better  or  worse,  in  proportion  as  France 
and  her  councils  be  united  or  divided.  That  the  goveinment 
•of  England  counts  much  upon  your  report,  and  upon  others  of 
a  similar  tendency,  is  what  the  writer  of  this  letter,  who  knows 
that  government  well,  has  no  doubt.  You  are  but  new  on  the 
theatre  of  government,  and  you  ought  to  suspect  yourself  of 
misj  udging ;  the  experience  of  those  who  have  gone  before  you 
should  be  of  some  service  to  you. 

But  if,  in  consequence  of  such  measures  as  you  propose,  you 
put  it  out  of  the  power  of  the  Directory  to  make  a  good  peace, 
and  to  accept  of  terms  you  would  afterwards  reprobate,  it  is 
yourselves  that  must  bear  the  censure.  • 

You  conclude  your  report  by  the  following  address  to  your 
colleagues  : — 

"  Let  us  hasten,  representatives  of  the  people !  to  affix  to- 
these  tutelary  laws  the  seal  of  our  unanimous  approbation. 
All  our  fellow-citizens  will  learn  to  cherish  political  liberty 
from  the  enjoyment  of  religious  liberty  :  you  will  have  broken 
the  most  powerful  arm  of  your  enemies ;  you  will  have  sur- 
rounded this  assembly  with  the  most  impregnant  rampart — 
confidence,  and  the  people's  love.  O !  my  colleagues  !  how 
desirable  is  that  popularity  which  is  the  offspring  of  good 
laws  !  What  a  consolation  it  will  be  to  us  hereafter,  when 
returned  to  our  own  fire-sides,  to  hear  from  the  mouths  of  our 
fellow-citizens,  these  simple  expressions — Blessings  reward  you 
men  of  mace  t  you  have  restored  to  us  our  temples — our  minis- 
ters— the  liberty  of  adoring  the  God  of  our  fathers  :  you  have 
recalled  harmony  to  our  families — morality  to  our  hearts  :  you 
have  made  us  adore  the  legislature  and  respect  all  its  laws  /  " 

Is  it  possible,  citizen  representative,  that  you  can  be  serious 
in  this  address?  Were  the  lives  of  the  priests  under  the 
ancient  regime  such  as  to  justify  anything  you  say  of  them  ? 
Were  not  all  France  convinced  of  their  immorality?  Were 
they  not  considered  as  the  patrons  of  debauchery  and  domestic 
infidelity,  and  not  as  the  patrons  of  morals  ]  What  was  their 
pretended  celibacy  but  perpetual  adultery  ?  What  was  their 
blasphemous  pretentious  to  forgive  sins,  but  an  encouragement 
to  the  commission  of  them,  and  a  love  for  their  own  ?  Do  you 
want  to  lead  again  into  France  all  the  vices  of  which  they  have 
been  the  patrons,  and  to  overspread  the  republic  with  English 
pensioners  ?  It  is  cheaper  to  corrupt  than  to  conquer  ;  and  the 
English  government,  uru»-W<»  to  «onoufir.  wil]  «toop  to  corrupt. 


LETTER  TO  CAMILLE  JORDAN.  2S£> 

Arrogance  and  meanness,  though  in  appearance  opposite,  are 
vices  of  the  same  heart. 

Instead  of  concluding  in  the  manner  you  have  done,  you 
ought  rather  to  have  said  : — 

"  0  !  my  colleagues  !  we  are  arrived  at  a  glorious  period — a 
period  that  promises  more  than  we  could  have  expected,  and 
all  that  we  could  have  wished.  Let  us  hasten  to  take  into  con- 
sideration the  honours  and  rewards  due  to  our  brave  defenders. 
Let  us  hasten  to  give  encouragement  to  agriculture  and  manu- 
factures, that  commerce  may  reinstate  itself,  and  our  people 
have  employment.  Let  us  review  the  condition  of  the  suffer- 
ing poor,  and  wipe  from  our  country  the  reproach  of  forgetting 
them.  Let  us  devise  means  to  establish  schools  of  instruction, 
that  we  may  banish  the  ignorance  that  the  ancient  regime  of 
kings  and  priests  had  spread  among  the  people. — Let  us  propa- 
gate morality,  unfettered  by  superstition — Let  us  cultivate 
justice  and  benevolence,  that  the  God  of  our  fathers  raay  bless 
us.  The  helpless  infant  and  the  aged  poor  cry  to  us  to  remem- 
ber them — Let  not  wretchedness  be  seen  in  our  streets — Let 
France  exhibit  to  the  world  the  glorious  example  of  expelling 
ignorance  and  misery  together. 

"  Let  these,  my  virtuous  colleagues,  be  the  subject  of  our 
care,  that,  when  we  return  among  our  fellow-citizens,  they  may 
say,  Worthy  representatives  !  you  have  done  well.  You  have 
done  justice  and  honor  to  our  brave  defenders.  You  have  en- 
couraged agriculture — cherished  our  decayed  manufactures — 
given  new  life  to  commerce,  and  employment  to  our  people.  You 
have  removedfrom  our  country  the  reproach  of  forgetting  the  poor 
—  You  have  caused  the  cry  of  the  orphan  to  cease —  You  have 
wiped  the  tear  from  the  eye  of  the  suffering  mother — You  have 
given  comfort  to  the  aged  and  infirm —  You  have  penetrated  into 
the  gloomy  recesses  of  wretchedness,  and  have  banished  it.  Wel- 
come among  us,  ye  brave  and  virtuous  representatives  /  and  may 
your  example  be  followed  by  your  successors  /" 

THOMAS  PAINE. 

PARIS,  J797. 


290  DISCOURSE  TO  THE  SOCIETY 


A  DISCOURSE 

DELIVERED  TO  THE  SOCIETY  OF  THEOPHILANTHROPISTS 
AT  PARIS. 


RELIGION  has  two  principal  enemies,  Fanaticism  and  Infidelity, 
or  that  which  is  called  atheism.  The  first  requires  to  be  com- 
bated by  reason  and  morality,  the  other  by  natural  philosophy. 

The  existence  of  a  God  is  the  first  dogma  of  the  Theophilan- 
thropists.  It  is  upon  this  subject  that  I  solicit  your  attention  ; 
for  though  it  has  been  often  treated  of,  and  that  most  sub- 
limely, the  subject  is  inexhaustible ;  and  there  will  always  re- 
main something  to  be  said  that  has  not  been  before  advanced. 
I  go,  therefore,  to  open  the  subject,  and  to  crave  your  attention 
to  the  end. 

The  universe  is  the  Bible  of  a  true  Theophilanthropist.  It 
is  there  that  he  reads  of  God.  It  is  there  that  the  proofs  of 
his  existence  are  to  be  sought  and  to  be  found.  As  to  written 
or  printed  books,  by  whatever  name  they  are  called  they  are 
"the  works  of  man's  hands,  and  carry  no  evidence  in  themselves 
that  God  is  the  author  of  any  of  them.  It  must  be  in  some- 
thing that  man  could  not  make,  that  we  must  seek  evidence  for 
our  belief,  and  that  something  is  the  universe  ;  the  true  Bible  ; 
the  inimitable  work  of  God. 

Contemplating  the  universe,  the  whole  system  of  creation,  in 
this  point  of  light,  we  shall  discover  that  all  that  which  is  called 
natural  philosophy  is  properly  a  divine  study.  It  is  the  study 
of  God  through  his  works.  It  is  the  best  study  by  which  we 
can  arrive  at  a  knowledge  of  his  existence,  and  the  only  one 
by  which  we  can  gain  a  glimpse  of  his  perfection. 

Do  we- want  to  contemplate  his  power1?  "We  see  it  in  the 
immensity  of  the  Creation.  Do  we  want  to  contemplate  his 
wisdom  1  We  see  it  in  the  unchangeable  order  by  which  the  in- 
comprehensible WHOLE  is  governed.  Do  we  want  to  contem- 
plate his  munificence  1  We  see  it  in  the  abundance  with  which 
he  fills  the  earth.  Do  we  want  to  contemplate  his  mercy  ?  We 
«ee  it  in  his  not  withholding  that  abundance  even  from  the  un- 


OF  THEOPHILANTHROPISTS.  291 

thankfut  In  fine,  do  we  want  to  know  what  God  is  ?  Search 
not  written  nor  printed  books ;  but  the  scripture  called  the 
Creation. 

It  has  been  the  error  of  the  schools  to  teach  astronomy,  and 
all  the  other  sciences,  and  subjects  of  natural  philosophy,  as 
accomplishments  only  ;  whereas  they  should  be  taught  theolo- 
gically, or  with  reference  to  the  Being  who  is  the  author  of 
them  :  for  all  the  principles  of  science  are  of  divine  origin.  Man 
cannot  make,  or  invent,  or  contrive  principles.  He  can  only 
discover  them  ;  and  he  ought  to  look  through  the  discovery  to 
the  Author. 

When  we  examine  an  extraordinary  piece  of  machinery,  an 
astonishing  pile  of  architecture,  a  well  executed  statue,  or  an 
highly  finished  painting,  where  life  and  action  are  imitated,  and 
habit  only  prevents  our  mistaking  a  surface  of  light  and  shade 
for  cubical  solidity,  our  ideas  are  naturally  led  to  think  of  the 
extensive  genius  and  talents  of  the  artists.  When  we  study  the 
elements  of  geometry,  we  think  of  Euclid.  When  he  speak  of 
gravitation,  we  think  of  Newton.  How  then  is  it,  that  when 
we  study  the  works  of  God  in  the  Creation,  we  stop  short,  and 
do  not  think  of  God  1  It  is  from  the  error  of  the  schools  in  hav- 
ing taught  those  subjects  as  accomplishments  only,  and  thereby 
separated  the  study  of  them  from  the  being  who  is  the  author 
of  them. 

The  schools  have  made  the  study  of  theology  to  consist  in  the 
study  of  opinions  in  written  or  printed  books ;  whereas  theo 
logy  should  be  studied  in  the  works  or  books  of  the  Creation. 
The  study  of  theology  in  books  of  opinions  has  often  produced 
fanaticism,  rancor,  and  cruelty  of  temper;  and  from  hence  have 
proceeded  the  numerous  persecutions,  the  fanatical  quarrels,  the 
religious  burnings  and  massacres,  that  have  desolated  Europe. 
But  the  study  of  theology  in  the  works  of  the  Creation  produces 
a  direct  contrary  effect.  The  mind  becames  at  once  enlightened 
and  serene;  a  copy  of  the  scene  it  beholds:  information  and 
adoration  go  hand  in  hand;  and  all  the  social  faculties  become 
enlarged. 

The  evil  that  has  resulted  from  the  error  of  the  schools,  in 
teaching  natural  philosophy  as  an  accomplishment  only,  has 
been  that  of  generating  in  the  pupils  a  species  of  atheism.  In- 
stead of  looking  through  the  works  of  the  Creation,  to  the  Cre- 
ator himself,  they  stop  short,  and  employ  the  knowledge  the} 
acquire  to  create  doubts  of  his  existence.  They  labor  with 


292  DISCOURSE  TO  THE  SOCIETY 

studied  ingenuity  to  ascribe  everything  they  behold  to  innate 
properties  of  matter;  and  jump  over  all  the  rest,  by  saying, 
that  matter  is  eternal. 

Let  us  examine  this  subject;  it  is  worth  examining;  for  if 
we  examine  it  through  all  its  cases,  the  result  will  be,  that  the 
existence  of  a  superior  cause,  or  that  which  man  calls  God,  will 
be  discoverable  by  philosophical  principles. 

In  the  first  place,  admitting  matter  to  have  properties,  as  we 
see  it  has,  the  question  stil  remains,  how  came  matter  by  those 
properties?  To  this  they  will  answer,  that  matter  possessed 
those  properties  eternally.  This  is  not  solution,  but  assertion : 
and  to  deny  it  is  equally  impossible  of  proof  as  to  assert  it.  It 
is  then  necessary  to  go  further;  and,  therefore,  I  say,  if  there 
exist  a  circumstance  that  is  not  a  property  of  matter,  and  with- 
out which  the  universe,  or,  to  speak  in  a  limited  degree,  the 
solar  system,  composed  of  planets  and  a  sun,  could  not  exist  a 
moment;  all  the  arguments  of  atheism,  drawn  from  properties 
of  matter  and  applied  to  account  for  the  universe,  will  be  over- 
thrown, and  the  existence  of  a  superior  cause,  or  that  which 
man  calls  God,  becomes  discoverable,  as  is  before  said,  by  natu- 
ral philosophy. 

I  go  now  to  show  that  such  a  circumstance  exists,  and  what 
it  is: 

The  universe  is  composed  of  matter,  and,  as  a  system,  is  sus- 
tained by  motion.  Motion  is  not  a  property  of  matter,  and  with- 
out this  motion,  the  solar  system  could  not  exist.  Were  mo- 
tion a  property  of  matter,  that  undiscovered  and  undiscoverable 
thing  called  perpetual  motion  would  establish  itself.  It  is  be- 
cause motion  is  not  a  property  of  matter  that  perpetual  motion 
is  an  impossibility  in  the  hand  of  every  being  but  that  of  the 
Creator  of  motion.  When  the  pretenders  to  atheism  can  pro- 
duce perpetual  motion,  and  not  till  then,  they  may  expect  to  be 
credited. 

The  natural  state  of  matter,  as  to  place,  is  a  state  of  rest. 
Motion,  or  change  of  place,  is  the  effect  of  an  external  cause 
acting  upon  matter.  As  to  that  faculty  of  matter  that  is  called 
gravitation,  it  is  the  influence  which  two  or  more  bodies  have 
reciprocally  on  each  other  to  unite  and  to  be  at  rest.  Every- 
thing which  has  hitherto  been  discovered,  with  respect  to  the 
motion  of  the  planets  in  the  system,  relates  only  to  the  laws  by 
which  motion  acts,  and  not  to  the  cause  of  motion.  Gravita- 
tion, so  far  from  being  the  cause  of  motion  to  the  planets  that 


OF   THEOPHILANTHROPISTS.  293 

compose  the  solar  system,  would  be  the  destructior  of  the  solai 
system,  were  revolutionary  motion  to  cease;  for  as  the  action 
of  spinning  upholds  a  top,  the  revolutionary  motion  upholds  the 
planets  in  their  orbits,  and  prevents  them  from  gravitating  and 
forming  one  mass  with  the  sun.  In. one  sense  of  the  word, 
philosophy  knows,  and  atheism  says,  that  matter  is  in  perpetual 
motion.  But  motion  here  refers  to  the  state  of  matter,  and 
that  only  on  the  surface  of  the  earth.  It  is  either  decompo- 
sition, which  is  continually  destroying  the  form  of  bodies  of 
matter,  or  re-composition,  which  renews  that  matter  in  the 
same  or  another  form,  as  the  decomposition  of  animal  or  vege- 
table substances  enter  into  the  composition  of  other  bodies. 
But  the  motion  that  upholds  the  solar  system  is  of  an  entire 
different  kind,  and  is  not  a  property  of  matter.  It  operates 
also  to  an  entire  different  effect.  It  operates  to  perpetual  pre- 
servation, and  to  prevent  any  change  in  the  state  of  the  system. 

Giving  then  to  matter  all  the  properties  which  philosophy 
knows  it  has,  or  all  that  atheism  ascribes  to  it,  and  can  prove, 
and  even  supposing  matter  to  be  eternal,  it  will  not  account  for 
the  system  of  the  universe,  or  of  the  solar  system,  because  it 
will  not  account  for  motion,  and  it  is  motion  that  preserves  it. 
When,  therefore,  we  discover  a  circumstance  of  such  immense 
importance,  that  without  it  the  universe  could  not  exist,  and 
for  which  neither  matter,  nor  any,  nor  all  the  properties  of 
matter  can  account ;  we  are  by  necessity  forced  into  the  rational 
and  comfortable  belief  of  the  existence  of  a  cause  superior  to 
matter,  and  that  cause  man  calls  God. 

As  to  that  which  is  called  nature,  it  is  no  other  than  the 
laws  by  which  motion  and  action  of  every  kind,  with  respect 
to  unintelligible  matter  is  regulated.  And  when  we  speak  of 
looking  through  nature  up  to  nature's  God,  we  speak  philo- 
sophically the  same  rational  language  as  when  we  speak  of 
looking  through  human  laws  up  to  the  power  that  ordained 
them. 

God  is  the  power  or  first  cause,  nature  is  the  law,  and  matter 
is  the  subject  acted  upon. 

But  infidelity,  by  ascribing  every  phenomenon  to  properties 
of  matter,  conceives  a  system  for  which  it  cannot  account,  and 
yet  it  pretends  to  demonstration.  It  reasons  from  what  it  sees 
on  the  surface  of  the  earth,  but  it  does  not  carry  itself  to  the 
solar  system  existing  by  motion.  It  sees  upon  the  sipffcce  £ 
perpetua1  decomposition  and  recomposition  of  matter.  lit  «*4 


294  DISCOURSE  TO  THE  SOCIETY 

that  an  oak  produces  an  acorn,  an  acorn  an  oak,  a  bird  an  egg, 
an  egg  a  bird,  and  so  on.  In  things  of  this  kind  it  sees  some- 
thing which  it  calls  natural  cause,  but  none  of  the  causes  it 
sees  is  the  cause  of  that  motion  which  preserves  the  solar 
system. 

Let  us  contemplate  this  wonderful  and  stupendous  system 
consisting  of  matter  and  existing  by  motion.  It  is  not  matter 
in  a  state  of  rest,  nor  in  a  state  of  decomposition  or  re-com- 
position. It  is  matter  systematized  in  perpetual  orbicular  or 
circular  motion.  As  a  system  that  motion  is  the  life  of  it,  as 
animation  is  life  to  an  animal  body;  deprive  the  system  of 
motion,  and,  as  a  system,  it  must  expire.  Who  then  breathed 
into  the  system  the  life  of  motion?  What  power  impelled  the 
planets  to  move,  since  motion  is  not  a  property  of  the  matter 
of  which  they  are  composed  ?  If  we  contemplate  the  immense 
velocity  of  this  motion,  our  wonder  becomes  increased,  and  our 
adoration  enlarges  itself  in  the  same  proportion.  To  instance 
only  one  of  the  planets,  that  of  the  earth  we  inhabit,  its  dis- 
tance from  the  sun,  the  centre  of  the  orbits  of  all  the  planets, 
is,  according  to  observations  of  the  transit  of  the  planet  Venus, 
about  one  hundred  million  miles;  consequently,  the  diameter 
of  the  orbit,  or  circle  in  which  the  earth  moves  round  the  sun, 
is  double  that  distance ;  and  the  measure  of  the  circumference 
of  the  orbit,  taken  as  three  times  its  diameter,  is  six  hundred 
million  miles.  The  earth  performs  this  voyage  in  365  days  and 
some  hours,  and  consequently  moves  at  the  rate  of  more  than 
one  million  six  hundred  thousand  miles  every  twenty-four  hours. 

Where  will  infidelity,  where  will  atheism  find  cause  for  this 
astonishing  velocity  of  motion,  never  ceasing,  never  varying, 
and  which  is  the  preservation  of  the  earth  in  its  orbit  ?  It  is 
not  by  reasoning  from  an  acorn  to  an  oak,  or  from  any  change 
in  the  state  of  matter  on  the  surface  of  the  earth,  that  this  can 
be  accounted  for.  Its  cause  is  not  to  be  found  in  matter,  nor 
in  anything  we  call  nature.  The  atheist  who  affects  to  reason, 
and  the  fanatic  who  rejects  reason,  plunge  themselves  alike 
into  inextricable  difficulties.  The  one  perverts  the  sublime  and 
enlightening  study  of  natural  philosophy  into  a  deformity  of 
absurdities  by  not  reasoning  to  the  end.  The  other  loses  him- 
self in  the  obscurity  of  metaphysical  theories,  and  dishonors 
the  Creator,  by  treating  the  study  of  his  works  with  contempt. 
The  one  is  a  half-rational  of  whom  there  is  some  hope,  the  other 
a  visionary  to  whom  we  must  be  charitable. 


OF  THEOPHTLANTHROPISTS.  295 

When  at  first  thought  we  think  of  the  Creator,  our  ideas 
appear  to  us  undefined  and  confused;  but  if  we  reason  philo- 
sophically, those  ideas  can  be  easily  arranged  and  simplified. 
It  is  a  Being  whose  power  is  equal  to  his  will.  Observe  the 
nature  of  the  will  of  man.  It  is  of  an  infinite  quality.  We 
cannot  conceive  the  possibility  of  limits  to  the  will.  Observe 
on  the  other  hand,  how  exceedingly  limited  is  his  power  of  act- 
ing, compared  with  the  nature  of  his  will.  Suppose  the  power 
equal  to  the  will,  and  man  would  be  a  God.  He  would  will 
himself  eternal,  and  be  so.  He  could  will  a  creation,  and  could 
make  it.  In  this  progressive  reasoning,  we  see  in  the  nature 
of  the  will  of  man,  half  of  that  which  we  conceive  of  thinking 
of  God ;  add  the  other  half,  and  we  have  the  whole  idea  of  a 
being  who  could  make  the  universe,  and  sustain  it  by  perpetual 
motion;  because  he  could  create  that  motion. 

We  know  nothing  of  the  capacity  of  the  will  of  animals,  but 
we  know  a  great  deal  of  the  difference  of  their  powers.  For 
example,  how  numerous  are  their  degrees,  and  how  immense  is 
the  difference  of  power  from  a  mite  to  a  man.  Since  then 
everything  we  see  below  us  shows  a  progression  of  power, 
where  is  the  difficulty  in  supposing  that  there'  is,  at  the  summit 
of  all  things,  a  Being  in  whom  an  infinity  of  power  unites  with 
the  infinity  of  the  will.  When  this  simple  idea  presents  itself 
to  our  mind,  we  have  the  idea  of  a  perfect  Being  that  man  calls 
God. 

It  is  comfortable  to  live  under  the  belief  of  the  existence  of 
an  infinitely  protecting  power  ;  and  it  is  an  addition  to  that 
comfort  to  know  that  such  a  belief  is  not  a  mere  conceit  of  the 
imagination,  as  many  of  the  theories  that  are  called  religious 
are ;  nor  a  belief  founded  only  on  tradition  or  received  opinion, 
but  is  a  belief  deducible  by  the  action  of  reason  upon  the  things 
that  compose  the  system  of  the  universe :  a  belief  arising  out 
of  visible  facts :  and  so  demonstrable  is  the  truth  of  this  be- 
lief, that  if  no  such  belief  had  existed,  the  persons  who  now 
controvert  it  would  have  been  the  persons  who  would  have 
produced  and  propagated  it,  because,  by  beginning  to  reason, 
they  would  have  been  led  on  to  reason  progressively  to  the  end, 
and,  thereby,  have  discovered  that  matter  and  all  the  properties 
it  has,  will  not  account  for  the  system  of  the  universe,  and  that 
there  must  necessarily  be  a  superior  cause. 

It  was  the  excess  to  which  imaginary  systems  of  religion 
had  been  carried,  and  the  intolerance,  persecutions,  burnings 


290  DISCOURSE  TO  THE  SOCIETY 

and  massacres,  they  occasioned,  that  first  induced  certain  per- 
sons to  propagate  infidelity  ;  thinking,  that  upon  the  whole,  it 
•was  better  not  to  believe  at  all,  than  to  believe  a  multitude  of 
things  and  complicated  creeds,  that  occasioned  so  much  mischief 
in  the  world.  But  those  days  are  past :  persecution  has  ceased, 
and  the  antidote  then  set  up  against  it  has  no  longer  even  the 
shadow  of  an  apology.  We  profess,  and  we  proclaim  in  peace, 
the  pure,  unmixed,  comfortable,  and  rational  belief  of  a  God, 
as  manifested  to  us  in  the  universe.  We  do  this  without  any 
apprehension  of  that  belief  being  made  a  cause  of  persecution 
as  other  beliefs  have  been,  or  of  suffering  persecution  ourselves. 
To  God,  and  not  to  man,  are  all  men  to  account  for  their  belief. 

It  has  been  well  observed  at  the  first  institution  of  this 
society  that  the  dogmas  it  professes  to  believe,  are  from  the 
commencement  of  the  world ;  that  hey  are  not  novelties,  but 
are  confessedly  the  basis  of  all  systems  of  religion,  however 
numerous  and  contradictory  they  may  be  All  men  in  the 
outset  of  the  religion  they  profess  are  Theophilanthropists. 
It  is  impossible  to  form  any  system  of  religion  without  build- 
ing upon  those  principles,  and,  therefore,  they  are  not  sectarian 
principles,  unless  we  suppose  a  sect  composed  of  all  the  world. 

I  have  said  in  the  course  of  this  discourse,  that  the  study  of 
natural  philosophy  is  a  divine  study,  because  it  is  the  study  of 
the  works  of  God  in  the  Creation.  If  we  consider  theology 
upon  this  ground;  what  an  extensive  field  of  improvement  in 
things  both  divine  and  human  opens  itself  before  us.  All  the 
principles  of  science  are  of  divine  origin.  It  was  not  man  that 
invented  the  principles  on  which  astronomy,  and  every  branch 
of  mathematics  are  founded  and  studied.  It  was  not  man  that 
gave  properties  of  the  circle  and  triangle.  Those  principles 
are  eternal  and  immutable.  We  see  in  them  the  unchangeable 
nature  of  the  Divinity.  We  see  in  them  immortality,  an  im- 
mortality existing  after  the  material  figures  that  express  those 
properties  are  dissolved  in  dust. 

The  society  is  at  present  in  its  infancy,  and  its  means  are 
8m all ;  but  I  wish  to  hold  in  view  the  subject  I  allude  to,  and 
instead  of  teaching  the  philosophical  branches  of  learning  as 
ornamental  accomplishments  only,  as  they  have  hitherto  been 
taught,  to  teach  them  in  a  manner  that  shall  combine  theologi- 
cal knowledge  with  scientific  instruction ;  to  do  this  to  the  best 
advantage,  some  instruments  will  be  necessary  for  the  purpose 
of  explanation,  of  which  the  society  is  not  yet  possessed.  But  as 


OF  THEOPHILANTHBOPISTS.  2U7 

the  views  of  the  society  extend  to  public  good,  as  well  as  to 
that  of  the  individual,  and  as  its  principles  can  have  no  ene- 
mies, means  may  be  devised  to  procure  them. 

If  we  unite  to  the  present  instruction,  a  series  of  lectures 
on  the  ground  I  have  mentioned,  we  shall,  in  the  first  place 
render  theology  the  most  delightful  and  entertaining  of  all 
studies.  In  the  next  place  we  shall  give  scientitic  instruction 
to  those  who  could  not  otherwise  obtain  it.  The  mechanic  of 
every  profession  will  there  be  taught  the  mathematical  princi- 
ples necessary  to  render  him  a  proficient  in  his  art.  The  culti- 
vator will  there  see  developed  the  principles  of  vegetation: 
while,  at  the  same  time,  they  will  be  led  to  see  the  hand  of 
God  in  all  these  things. 


298  REMARKS  ON  ROBERT  HALI/S  SERMONS. 


REMARKS   ON 

EGBERT   HALL'S   SEKMONS. 


ROBERT  HALL,  a  protestant  minister  in  England,  preached 
and  published  a  sermon  against  what  he  calls  "  Modern  Infi- 
delity" A  copy  of  it  was  sent  to  a  gentleman  in  America, 
with  a  request  for  his  opinion  thereon.  That  gentleman  sent 
it  to  a  friend  of  his  in  New  York,  with  the  request  written  on 
the  cover — and  this  last  sent  it  to  Thomas  Paine,  who  wrote 
the  following  observations  on  the  blank  leaf  at  the  end  of  the 
sermon : — 

The  preacher  of  the  foregoing  sermon  speaks  a  great  deal 
about  infidelity,  but  does  not  define  what  he  means  by  it.  His 
harangue  is  a  general  exclamation.  Every  thing,  I  suppose, 
that  is  not  in  his  creed  is  infidelity  with  him,  and  his  creed  is 
infidelity  with  me.  Infidelity  is  believing  falsely.  If  what 
Christians  believe  is  not  true,  it  is  the  Christians  that  are  the 
infidels. 

The  point  between  deists  and  Christians  is  not  about  doc- 
trine, but  about  facts — for  if  the  things  believed  by  the  chris- 
tians  to  be  facts,  are  not  facts,  the  doctrine  founded  thereon 
falls  of  itself.  There  is  such  a  book  as  the  Bible,  but  is  it  a 
fact  that  the  Bible  is  revealed  religion  ?  The  Christians  cannot 
prove  it  is.  They  put  tradition  in  place  of  evidence,  and  tra- 
dition is  not  proof.  If  it  were,  the  reality  of  witches  could 
be  proved  by  the  same  kind  of  evidence. 

The  bible  is  a  history  of  the  times  of  which  it  speaks,  and 
history  is  not  revelation.  The  obscene  and  vulgar  stories  in 
the  bible  are  as  repugnant  to  our  ideas  of  the  purity  of  a  divine 
being,  as  the  horrid  cruelties  and  murders  it  ascribes  to  him 
are  repugnant  to  our  ideas  of  his  justice.  It  is  the  reverence 
of  the  Deists  for  the  attributes  of  the  DEITY  that  causes  them 
to  reject  the  bible. 

Is  the  account  which  the  Christian  church  gives  of  the  per- 
son called  Jesus  Christ  a  fact  or  a  fable  1  Is  it  a  fact  that  he 
was  begotten  by  the  Holy  Ghost  ?  The  Christians  cannot  prove 


REMARKS  ON  ROBERT  HALI/S  SERMONS.     299 

it,  for  the  case  does  not  admit  of  proof.  The  things  called 
miracles  in  the  bible,  such,  for  instance,  as  raising  the  dead, 
admitted,  if  true,  of  ocular  demonstration,  but  the  story  of 
the  conception  of  Jesus  Christ  in  the  womb  is  a  case  beyond 
miracle,  for  it  did  not  admit  of  demonstration.  Mary,  the  re- 
puted mother  of  Jesus,  who  must  be  supposed  to  know  best, 
never  said  so  herself,  and  all  the  evidence  of  it  is,  that  the 
book  of  Matthew  says,  that  Joseph  dreamed  an  angel  told  him 
so.  Had  an  old  maid  of  two  or  three  hundred  years  of  age, 
brought  forth  a  child,  it  would  have  been  much  better  presump- 
tive evidence  of  a  supernatural  conception,  than  Matthew's 
story  of  Joseph's  dream  about  his  young  wife. 

Is  it  a  fact  that  Jesus  Christ  died  for  the  sins  of  the  world, 
and  how  is  it  proved  ?  If  a  God  he  could  not  die,  and  as  a  man 
he  could  not  redeem,  how  then  is  this  redemption  proved  to  be 
fact1?  It  is  said  that  Adam  eat  of  the  forbidden  fruit,  commonly 
called  an  apple,  and  thereby  subjected  himself  and  all  his  pos- 
terity for  ever  to  eternal  damnation.  This  is  worse  than  visit- 
ing the  sins  of  the  fathers  upon  the  children  unto  the  third  and 
fourth  generations.  But  how  was  the  death  of  Jesus  Christ  to 
affect  or  alter  the  case? — Did  God  thirst  for  blood?  If  so, 
would  it  not  have  been  better  to  have  crucified  Adam  at  once 
upon  the  forbidden  tree,  and  made  a  new  man  ?  Would  not 
this  have  been  more  creator-like  than  repairing  the  old  one  ? 
Or,  did  God,  when  he  made  Adam,  supposing  the  story  to  be 
true,  exclude  himself  from  the  right  of  making  another?  Or 
impose  on  himself  the  necessity  of  breeding  from  the  old  stock  ? 
Priests  should  first  prove  facts,  and  deduce  doctrines  from  them 
afterwards.  But,  instead  of  this  they  assume  everything  and 
prove  nothing.  Authorities  drawn  from  the  bible  are  no  more 
than  authorities  drawn  from  other  books,  unless  it  can  be  proved 
that  the  bible  is  revelation. 

This  story  of  the  redemption  will  not  stand  examination. 
That  man  should  redeem  himself  from  the  sin  of  eating  an  apple, 
by  commiting  a  murder  on  Jesus  Christ,  is  the  strangest  system 
of  religion  ever  set  up.  Deism  is  perfect  purity  compared  with 
this.  It  is  an  established  principle  with  the  quakers  not  to  shed 
blood — suppose,  then,  all  Jerusalem  had  been  quakers  when 
Christ  lived,  there  would  have  been  nobody  to  crucify  him,  and 
in  that  case  if  man  is  redeemed  by  his  blood,  which  is  the  belief 
of  the  church,  there  could  have  been  no  redemption — and  the 
people  of  Jerusalem  must  all  have  been  damned,  because  they 


300  REMARKS  ON   ROBERT   HALL'S  SERMONS. 

were  too  good  to  commit  murder.  The  Christian  system  of  re- 
ligion is  an  outrage  on  common  sense.  Why  is  man  afraid  to 
think? 

Why  do  not  the  Christians,  to  be  consistent,  make  saints  of 
Judas  and  Pontius  Pilate,  for  they  were  the  persons  who  ac- 
complished the  act  of  salvation.  The  merit  of  a  sacrifice,  if 
there  can  be  any  merit  in  it,  was  never  in  the  thing  sacrificed, 
but  in  the  persons  offering  up  the  sacrifice — and,  therefore, 
Judas  and  Pontius  Pilate  ought  to  stand  first  on  the  calendar 
of  saints, 

THOMAS  PAINE. 


OF  THE   WORD   KELIG1ON.  301 

OF  THE  WORD  RELIGION, 

IND  OTHER  WORDS  OF  UNCERTAIN  SIGNIFICATION. 


IAIE  word  religion  is  a  word  of  forced  application  when  used 
*'ith  respect  to  the  worship  of  God.  The  root  of  the  word  is 
the  lafcin  verb  ligo,  to  tie  or  bind.  From  lirjo  comes  religo,  to 
tie  or  b.'nd  over  again,  or  make  more  fast — from  religo  conies 
substankVe  religio,  which,  with  the  addition  of  n  makes  the 
English  sv  bstantive  religion.  The  French  use  the  word  properly 
— when  a  \r oman  enters  a  convent  she  is  called  a  noviciat,  that 
is,  she  is  upon  trial  or  probation.  .  When  she  takes  the  oath, 
she  called  a  » jligieuse,  that  is,  she  is  tied  or  bound  by  that  oath 
to  the  performance  of  it.  We  use  the  word  in  the  same  kind  of 
sense  when  we  jay  we  will  religiously  perform  the  promise  that 
we  make. 

But  the  word,  *dthout  referring  to  its  etymology,  has,  in  the 
manner  it  is  use-x  no  definitive  meaning,  because  it  does  not 
designate  what  reugion  a  man  is  of.  There  is  the  religion  of 
the  Chinese,  of  the  Tartars,  of  the  Bramins,  of  the  Persians,  of 
the  Jews,  of  the  Turis,  etc. 

The  word  Christianity  is  equally  as  vague  as  the  word  reli- 
gion. No  two  sectaries  can  agree  what  it  is.  It  is  a  lo  here 
and  lo  there.  The  two  principal  sectaries,  Papists  and  Protes- 
tants,, have  often  cut  eacL  other's  throats  about  it: — The  Papists 
call  the  Protestants  heretic^,  and  the  Protestants  call  the  Papists 
idolaters.  The  minor  secta/ies  have  shown  the  same  spirit  oi 
rancor,  but,  as  the  civil  law  restrains  them  from  blood,  they 
content  themselves  with  preaching  damnation  against  each  other. 

The  word  protestant  has  a  pv^itive  signification  in  the  sense 
it  is  used.  It  means  protesting  against  the  authority  of  the 
Pope,  and  this  is  the  only  article  in  which  the  protestants  agree. 
— In  every  other  sense,  with  respect  to  religion,  the  word  pro- 
testant is  as  vague  as  the  word  Christian.  When  we  say  an 
episcopalian,  a  presbyterian,  a  baptist,  a  quaker,  we  know  what 
those  persons  are  and  what  tenets  they  hold — but  when  we  say 
a  Christian,  we  know  he  is  not  a  Jew  nor  a  Mahometan,  but  we 
know  not  if  he  be  a  trinitarian  or  a"  anti  trinitarian,  or  a  be 


302  OF   THtJ    WORD    RELIGION. 

liever  in  what  is  called  the  immaculate  conception,  or  a  disbe- 
liever, a  man  of  seven  sacraments,  or  of  two  sacraments,  or  of 
none.  The  word  Christian  describes  what  a  man  is  not,  but  not 
what  he  is. 

The  word  Theology,  from  Theos,  the  Greek  word  for  God, 
and  meaning  the  study  and  knowledge  ef  God,  is  a  word,  that 
strictly  speaking,  belongs  to  Theists  or  Deists,  and  not  to  the 
Christians.  The  head  of  the  Christian  church  is  the  person 
called  Christ — but  the  head  of  the  church  of  the  Theists  or 
Deists,  as  they  are  more  commonly  called,  from  Deiis,  the  latin 
word  for  God,  is  God  himself,  and  therefore  the  word  Theology 
belongs  to  that  church  which  has  Theos,  or  God,  for  its  head, 
and  not  to  the  Christian  church  which  has  the  person  called 
Christ  for  its  head.  Their  technical  word  is  Christianity,  and 
they  cannot  agree  what  Christianity  is. 

The  words  revealed  'religion,  and  natwral  religion,  require 
also  explanation.  They  are  both  invented  terms,  contrived  by 
the  church  for  the  support  of  priestcraft.  With  respect  to  the 
first,  there  is  no  evidence  of  any  such  thing,  except  in  the  uni- 
versal revelation  that  God  has  made  of  his  power,  his  wisdom, 
his  goodness,  in  the  structure  of  the  universe,  and  in  all  the 
works  of  creation.  We  have  no  cause  or  ground  from  any 
thing  we  behold  in  those  works,  to  suppose  God  would  deal 
partially  by  mankind,  and  reveal  knowledge  to  one  nation  and 
withhold  it  from  another,  and  then  damn  them  for  not  know- 
ing it.  The  sun  shines  an  equal  quantity  of  light  all  over  the 
world — and  mankind  in  all  ages  and  countries  are  endued  with 
reason,  and  blessed  with  sight,  to  read  the  visible  works  of  God 
in  the  creation,  and  so  intelligent  is  this  book  that  he  that  runs 
may  read.  We  admire  the  wisdom  of  the  ancients,  yet  they 
had  no  bibles,  nor  books,  called  revelation.  They  cultivated 
the  reason  that  God  gave  them,  studied  him  in  his  works,  and 
arose  to  eminence. 

As  to  the  Bible,  whether  true  or  fabulous,  it  is  a  history, 
and  history  is  not  revelation.  If  Solomon  had  seven  hundred 
wives,  and  three  hundred  concubines,  and  if  Samson  slept  in 
Delilah's  lap,  and  she  cut  his  hair  off,  the  relation  of  those 
things  is  mere  history,  that  needed  no  revelation  from  heaven 
to  tell  it;  neither  does  it  need  any  revelation  to  tell  us  that 
Samson  was  a  fool  for  his  pains,  and  Solomon  too. 

As  to  the  expressions  so  often  used  in  the  Bible,  that  the 
word  of  the  Lord  came  to  such  an  one,  or  such  an  one,  it  was 


OF  THE   WORD   RELIGION.  303 

the  fashion  of  speaking  in  those  times,  like  the  expression  used 
by  a  Quaker,  that  the  spirit  moveth  him,  or  that  used  by  priests, 
that  they  have  a  call.  We  ought  not  to  be  deceived  by  phrases 
because  they  are  ancient.  But  if  we  admit  the  supposition 
that  God  would  condescend  to  reveal  himself  in  words  we 
ought  not  to  believe  it  would  be  in  such  idle  and  profligate 
stories  as  are  in  the  Bible,  and  it  is  for  this  reason,  among 
others  which  our  reverence  to  God  inspires,  that  the  Deists 
deny  that  the  book  called  the  Bible  is  the  word  of  God,  or  that 
it  is  revealed  religion. 

With  respect  to  the  term  natural  religion,  it  is,  upon  the 
face  of  it,  the  opposite  of  artificial  religion,  and  it  is  impossible 
for  any  man  to  be  certain  that  what  is  called  revealed  religion 
is  not  artificial.  Man  has  the  power  of  making  books,  invent- 
ing stories  of  God,  and  calling  them  revelation,  or  the  word  of 
God.  The  Koran  exists  as  an  instance  that  this  can  be  done, 
and  we  must  be  credulous  indeed  to  suppose  that  this  is  the 
only  instance,  and  Mahomet  the  only  impostor.  The  Jews 
could  match  him,  and  the  church  of  Rome  could  overmatch  the 
Jews.  The  Mahometans  believe  the  Koran,  the  Christians  be- 
lieve the  Bible,  and  it  is  education  makes  all  the  difference. 

Books,  whether  Bibles  or  Korans,  carry  no  evidence  of  being 
the  work  of  any  other  power  than  man.  It  is  only  that  which 
man  cannot  do  that  carries  the  evidence  of  being  the  work  of  a 
superior  power.  Man  could  not  invent  and  make  a  universe — 
he  could  not  invent  nature,  for  nature  is  of  divine  origin.  It 
is  the  laws  by  which  the  universe  is  governed.  When,  there- 
fore, we  look  through  nature  up  to  nature's  God,  we  are  in  the 
right  road  of  happiness,  but  when  we  trust  to  books  as  the 
word  of  God,  and  confide  in  them  as  revealed  religion,  we  are 
afloat  on  the  ocean  of  uncertainty,  and  shatter  into  contending 
factions.  The  term,  therefore,  natural  religion,  explains  itself 
to  be  divine  religion,  and  the  term  revealed  religion  involves  in 
it  the  suspicion  of  being  artificial. 

To  show  the  necessity  of  understanding  the  meaning  of  words, 
I  will  mention  an  instance  of  a  minister,  I  believe  of  the  Epis- 
copalian church  of  Newark,  in  Jersey.  He  wrote  and  published 
a  book,  and  entitled  it,  "An  Antidote  to  Deism."  An  antidote 
to  Deism  must  be  Atheism.  It  has  no  other  antidote — for  what 
can  be  an  antidote  to  the  belief  of  a  God,  but  the  disbelief  of 
God.  Under  the  tuition  of  such  pastors,  what  but  ignorance 
>and  false  information  can  be  expected,  T.  P. 


304  OF   CAIN   AND  ABEL. 


OF  01IN  AND  ABEL. 


THE  story  of  Cain  and  Abel  is  told  in  the  fourth  ^^.f^pfae  of 
Genesis;  Cain  was  the  elder  brother,  and  Abel  if a  younger, 
and  Cain  killed  Abel.  The  Egyptian  story  ot  'j'ypnon  and 
Osiris,  and  the  Jewish  story,  in  Genesis,  of  Cain  and  Abel, 
have  the  appearance  of  being  the  same  scory  differently  told, 
and  that  it  came  originally  from  Egypt. 

In  the  Egyptian  story,  Typhon  and  Osiris  are  brothers; 
iyphon  is  the  elder,  and  Osiris  the  younger,  and  Typhon  kills 
Osiris.  The  story  is  an  allegory  on  darkness  and  light;  Typhon, 
the  elder  brother,  is  darkness,  because  darkness  was  supposed 
to  be  more  ancient  than  light;  Osiris  is  the  good  light  who 
rules  during  the  summer  months,  and  Drings  forth  the  fruits  of 
the  earth,  and  is  the  favorite,  as  Abel  is  said  to  have  been,  for 
which  Typhon  hates  him;  and  when  the  winter  comes,  and 
cold  and  darkness  overspread  the  earth,  Typhon  is  represented 
as  having  killed  Osiris  out  of  malice,  as  Cain  is  said  to  have 
killed  Abel. 

The  two  stories  are  alike  in  their  circumstances  and  their 
event,  and  are  probably  but  the  same  story ;  what  corroborates 
this  opinion  is  that  the  fifth  chapter  of  Genesis  historically  con- 
tradicts the  reality  of  the  story  of  Cain  and  Abel  in  the  fourth 
chapter,  for  though  the  name  of  Seth,  a  son  of  Adam,  is  men- 
tioned in  the  fourth  chapter,  he  is  spoken  of  in  the  fifth  chapter 
as  if  he  was  the  first  born  of  Adam.  The  chapter  begins 
thus: — 

"  This  is  the  book  of  the  generations  of  Adam.  In  the  day 
that  God  created  man,  in  the  likeness  of  God  created,  he  him. 
Male  and  female  created  he  them,  and  blessed  them,  and  called 
their  name  Adam  in  the  day  when  they  were  created.  And 
Adam  lived  an  hundred  and  thirty  years  and  begat  a  son,  in 
his  own  likeness  and  after  his  own  image,  and  called  his  name 
Seth"  The  rest  of  the  chapter  goes  on  with  the  genealogy. 

Anybody  reading  this  chapter,  cannot  suppose  there  were 
any  sons  born  before  Seth.  Tho  chapter  begins  with  what  is 


OF   CAIN  AND  ABEL.  30.r> 

called  the  creation  of  Adam,  and  calls  itself  the  book  of  the 
generations  of  Adam,  yet  no  mention  is  made  of  such  persons 
as  Cain  and  Abel;  one  thing,  however,  is  evident  on  the  face 
of  these  two  chapters,  which  is,  that  the  same  person  is  not  the 
writer  of  both;  the  most  blundering  historian  could  not  have 
committed  himself  in  such  a  manner.  • 

Though  I  look  on  everything  in  the  first  ten  chapters  of 
Genesis  to  be  fiction,  yet  fiction  historically  told  should  be  con- 
sistent, whereas  these  two  chapters  are  not.  The  Cain  and  Abel 
of  Genesis  appear  to  be  no  other  than  the  ancient  Egyptian 
story  of  Typhon  and  Osiris,  the  darkness  and  the  light,  which 
answered  very  well  as  an  allegory  without  being  believed  as  a 
fact. 


306  THE  TOWER  OF   BABEL. 


THE  TOWER  OF  BABEL. 


THE  story  of  the  tower  of  Babel  is  told  in  the  eleventh 
chapter  of  Genesis.  It  begins  thus: — "And  the  whole  earth 
(it  was  but  a  very  little  part  of  it  they  knew)  was  of  one 
language  and  of  one  speech. — And  it  came  to  pass  as  they 
journeyed  from  the  east,  that  they  found  a  plain  in  the  land  of 
Shinar,  and  they  dwelt  there. — And  they  said  one  to  another, 
Go  to,  let  us  make  brick  and  burn  them  thoroughly,  and  they 
had  brick  for  stone,  and  slime  had  they  for  mortar. — And  they 
said,  go  to,  let  us  build  a  city,  and  a  tower  whose  top  may  reach 
unto  heaven,  and  let  us  make  us  a  name,  lest  we  be  scattered 
abroad  upon  the  face  of  the  whole  earth. — And  the  Lord  came 
down  to  see  the  city  and  the  tower  which  the  children  of  men 
builded. — And  the  Lord  said,  behold  the  people  is  one,  and 
they  have  all  one  language,  and  this  they  begin  to  do,  and  now 
nothing  will  be  restrained  from  them  which  they  have  imagined 
to  do. — Go  to,  let  us  go  down  and  there  confound  their  language, 
that  they  may  not  understand  one  another's  speech. — So  (that 
is,  by  that  means)  the  Lord  scattered  them  abroad  from  thence 
upon  the  face  of  all  the  earth,  and  they  left  off  building  the 
city." 

This  is  the  story,  and  a  very  foolish  inconsistent  story  it  is. 
In  the  first  place,  the  familiar  and  irreverent  manner  in  which 
the  Almighty  is  spoken  of  in  this  chapter,  is  offensive  to  a 
serious  mind.  As  to  the  project  of  building  a  tower  whose  top 
should  reach  to  heaven,  there  never  could  be  a  people  so  foolish  as 
to  have  such  a  notion;  but  to  represent  the  Almighty  as  jealous 
of  the  attempt,  as  the  writer  of  the  story  has  done,  is  adding  pro- 
fanation to  folly.  "  Go  to,"  say  the  builders,  "  let  us  build  us  a 
tower  whose  top  shall  reach  to  heaven."  "  Go  to,"  says  God, 
"  let  us  go  down  and  confound  their  language."  This  quaintness 
is  indecent,  and  the  reason  given  for  it  is  worse,  for,  "now  no- 
thing will  be  restrained  from  them  which  they  have  imagined 
to  do."  This  is  representing  the  Almighty  as  jealous  of  their 
getting  into  heaven.  The  story  is  too  ridiculous,  even  as  a  fable, 


THE  TOWER  OF  BABEL.  307 

to  account  for  the  diversity  of  languages  in  the  -world,  for  which 
it  seems  to  have  been  intended. 

As  to  the  project  of  confounding  their  language  for  the  pur- 
pose of  making  them  separate,  it  is  altogether  inconsistent;  be- 
cause, instead  of  producing  this  effect,  it  would,  by  increasing 
their  difficulties,  render  them  more  necessary  to  each  other,  and 
cause  them  to  keep  together.  Where  could  they  go  to  better 
themselves  ? 

Another  observation  upon  this  story  is,  the  inconsistency  of 
it  with  respect  to  the  opinion  that  the  Bible  is  the  word  of  God 
given  for  the  information  of  nankind;  for  nothing  could  so  ef- 
fectually prevent  such  a  word  being  known  by  mankind  as  con- 
founding their  language.  The  people,  who  after  this  spoke 
different  languages,  could  no  more  understand  such  a  word  gen- 
erally, than  the  builders  of  Babel  could  understand  one  another. 
It  would  have  been  necessary,  therefore,  had  such  word  ever 
been  given  or  intended  to  be  given,  that  the  whole  earth  should 
be,  as  they  say  it  was  at  first,  of  one  language  and  of  one  speech, 
and  that  it  should  never  have  been  confounded. 

The  case,  however,  is,  that  the  Bible  will  not  bear  exami- 
nation in  any  part  of  it,  which  it  would  do  if  it  was  the  word 
of  God.  Those  who  most  believe  it  are  those  who  know  least, 
about  it,  and  priests  always  take  care  to  keep  the  inconsistent 
and  contradictory  parts  out  of  sight. 

T.  P. 


308  OF  THE  KELIGION  OF  DEISM,   ETC. 


OF  THE  RELIGION  OF  DEISM 

COMPARED  WITH  THE   CHRISTIAN  RELIGION,    AND  THE 
SUPERIORITY  OF  THE  FORMER  OVER  THE  LATTER. 


EVERY  person,  of  whatever  religious  denomination  he  may 
be,  is  a  DEIST  in  the  first  article  of  his  creed.  Deism,  from  the 
Latin  word  Deus,  God,  is  the  belief  of  a  God,  and  this  belief  is 
the  first  article  of  every  man's  creed. 

It  is  on  this  article,  universally  consented  to  by  all  mankind, 
that  the  Deist  builds  his  church,  and  here  he  rests.  Whenever 
we  step  aside  from  this  article,  by  mixing  it  with  articles  of  hu- 
man invention,  we  wander  into  a  labyrinth  of  uncertainty  and 
fable,  and  become  exposed  to  every  kind  of  imposition  by  pre- 
tenders to  revelation.  The  Persian  shows  the  Zendavesta  of 
Zoroaster,  the  law-giver  of  Persia,  and  calls  it  the  divine  law; 
the  Bramin  shows  the  SJiaster,  revealed,  he  says,  by  God  to 
Brama,  and  given  to  him  out  of  a  cloud;  the  Jew  shows  what 
he  calls  the  law  of  Moses,  given,  he  says,  by  God,  on  the  Mount 
Sinai;  the  Christian  shows  a  collection  of  books  and  epistles, 
written  by  nobody  knows  who,  and  called  the  New  Testament; 
and  the  Mahometan  shows  the  Koran,  given,  he  says,  by  God  to 
Mahomet:  each  of  these  calls  itself  revealed  religion,  and  the 
only  true  word  of  God,  and  this  the  followers  of  each  profess 
to  believe  from  the  habit  of  education,  and  each  believes  the 
others  are  imposed  upon. 

But  when  the  divine  gift  of  reason  begins  to  expand  itself 
in  the  mind  and  calls  man  to  reflection,  he  then  reads  and 
contemplates  God  in  his  works,  and  not  in  the  books  pretend- 
ing to  be  revelation.  The  Creation  is  the  Bible  of  the  true 
believer  in  God.  Everything  in  this  vast  volume  inspires  him 
with  sublime  ideas  of  the  Creator.  The  little  and  paltry,  and 
often  obscene,  tales  of  the  bible  sink  into  wretchedness  when 
put  in  comparison  with  this  mighty  work.  The  Deist  needs 
none  of  those  tricks  and  shows  called  miracles  to  confirm  his 


OP  THE;  RELIGION  OF  DEISM,  ETC.  309 

faith,  for  what  can  be  a  greater  miracle  than  the  creation  it- 
self, and  his  own  existence. 

There  is  a  happiness  in  Deism,  when  rightly  understood, 
that  is  not  to  be  found  in  any  other  system  of  religion.  All 
other  systems  have  some  things  in  them  that  either  shock  our 
reason,  or  are  repugnant  to  it,  and  man,  if  he  thinks  at  all, 
must  stifle  his  reason  in  order  to  force  himself  to  believe  them. 
But  in  Deism  our  reason  and  our  belief  become  happily  united. 
The  wonderful  structure  of  the  universe,  and  every  thing  we 
behold  in  the  system  of  the  creation,  prove  to  us,  far  better 
than  books  can  do,  the  existence  of  a  God,  and  at  the  same 
time  proclaim  his  attributes.  It  is  by  the  exercise  of  our  rea- 
son that  we  are  enabled  to  contemplate  God  in  his  works,  and 
imitate  him  in  his  ways.  When  we  see  his  care  and  goodness 
extended  over  all  his  creatures,  it  teaches  us  our  duty  towards 
each  other,  while  it  calls  forth  our  gratitude  to  him.  It  is  by 
forgetting  God  in  his  works,  and  running  after  the  books  of 
pretended  revelation  that  man  has  wandered  from  the  straight 
path  of  duty  and  happiness,  and  become  by  turns  the  victim 
of  doubt  and  the  dupe  of  delusion. 

Except  in  the  first  article  in  the  Christian  creed,  that  of  be- 
lieving in  God,  there  is  not  an  article  in  it  but  fills  the  mind 
with  doubt,  as  to  the  truth  of  it,  the  instant  man  begins  to 
think.  Now  every  article  in  a  creed  that  is  necessary  to  the 
happiness  and  salvation  of  man,  ought  to  be  as  evident  to  the 
reason  and  comprehension  of  man  as  the  first  article  is,  for  God 
has  not  given  us  reason  for  the  purpose  of  confounding  us,  but 
that  we  should  use  it  for  our  own  happiness  and  his  glory. 

The  truth  of  the  first  article  is  proved  by  God  himself,  and 
is  universal;  for  the  creation  is  of  itself  demonstration  of  the 
existence  of  a  Creator.  But  the  second  article,  that  of  God's 
begetting  a  son,  is  not  proved  in  like  manner,  and  stands  on 
no  other  authority  than  that  of  a  tale.  Certain  books  in  what 
is  called  the  New  Testament  tell  us  that  Joseph  dreamed  that 
the  angel  told  him  so.  (Matthew,  chap.  1,  ver.  20).  "And 
behold  the  Angel  of  the  Lord  appeared  to  Joseph,  in  a  dream, 
saying,  Joseph,  thou  son  of  David,  fear  not  to  take  unto  thee 
Mary  thy  wife,  for  that  which  is  conceived  in  her  is  of  the 
Holy  Ghost."  The  evidence  upon  this  article  bears  no  com- 
parison with  the  evidence  upon  the  first  article,  and,  therefore 
is  not  entitled  to  the  same  credit,  and  ought  not  to  be  made  an 
article  in  a  creed,  because  the  evidence  of  it  is  defective,  and 


310  OF  THE  RELIGION   OF  DEISM,   ETC. 

what  evidence  there  is,  is  doubtful  and  suspicious.  We  do  not 
believe  the  first  article  on  the  authority  of  books,  whether 
called  Bibles  or  Korans,  nor  yet  on  the  visionary  authority  of 
dreams,  but  on  the  authority  of  God's  own  visible  works  in 
the  creation.  The  nations  who  never  heard  of  such  books,  nor 
of  such  people  as  Jews,  Christians,  or  Mahometans,  believe 
the  existence  of  a  God  as  fully  as  we  do,  because  it  is  self- 
evident.  The  work  of  man's  hands  is  a  proof  of  the  existence 
of  man  as  fully  as  his  personal  appearance  would  be.  When 
we  see  a  watch,  we  have  as  positive  evidence  of  the  existence 
of  a  watch-maker,  as  if  we  saw  him ;  and  in  like  manner  the 
creation  is  evidence  to  our  reason  and  our  senses  of  the  exist- 
ence of  a  Creator.  But  there  is  nothing  in  the  works  of  God 
that  is  evidence  that  he  begat  a  son,  nor  any  thing  in  the  sys- 
tem of  creation  that  corroborates  such  an  idea,  and,  therefore, 
we  are  not  authorized  in  believing  it. 

But  presumption  can  assume  anything,  and  therefore  it 
makes  Joseph's  dream  to  be  of  equal  authority  with  the  ex- 
istence of  God,  and  to  help  it  on  calls  it  revelation.  It  is  im- 
possible for  the  mind  of  man  in  its  serious  moments,  however 
it  may  have  been  entangled  by  education,  or  beset  by  priest- 
craft, not  to  stand  still  and  doubt  upon  the  truth  of  this  article 
and  of  its  creed.  But  this  is  not  all. 

The  second  article  of  the  Christian  creed  having  brought 
the  son  of  Mary  into  the  world  (and  this  Mary,  according  to 
the  chronological  tables,  was  a  girl  of  only  fifteen  years  of  age 
when  this  son  was  born),  the  next  article  goes  on  to  account 
for  his  being  begotten,  which  was,  that  when  he  grew  a  man 
he  should  be  put  to  death,  to  expiate,  they  say,  the  sin  that 
Adam  brought  into  the  world  by  eating  an  apple  or  some  kind 
of  forbidden  fruit. 

But  though  this  is  the  creed  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  from 
whence  the  protestants  borrowed  it,  it  is  a  creed  which  that 
church  has  manufactured  of  itself,  for  it  is  not  contained  in, 
nor  derived  from,  the  book  called  the  New  Testament.  The 
four  books  called  the  Evangelists,  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke  and 
John,  which  give,  or  pretend  to  give,  the  birth,  sayings,  life, 
preaching  and  death  of  Jesus  Christ,  make  no  mention  of 
what  is  called  the  fall  of  man ;  nor  is  the  name  of  Adam  to 
be  found  in  any  of  those  books,  which  it  certainly  would  be 
if  the  writers  of  them  believed  that  Jesus  was  begotten,  born, 
and  died  for  the  purpose  of  redeeming  mankind  from  the  sin 


OF    THE    KEL1G1ON    OF    DEJSM,    KTC.  oil 

which  Adam  had  brought  into  the  world.  Jesus  never  speaks 
of  Adam  himself,  of  the  Garden  of  Eden,  nor  of  what  is  called 
the  fall  of  man. 

But  the  Church  of  Rome  having  set  up  its  new  religion 
which  it  called  Christianity,  and  invented  the  creed  which  it 
named  the  apostle's  creed,  in  which  it  calls  Jesus  the  only  son 
of  God,  conceived  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  born  of  ihe  Virgin 
Mary — things  of  which  it  is  impossible  that  man  or  woman 
can  have  any  idea,  and  consequently  no  belief  but  in  words, 
and  for  which  there  is  no  authority  but  the  idle  story  of 
Joseph's  dream  in  the  first  chapter  of  Matthew,  which  any 
lie-signing  impostor  or  foolish  fanatic  might  make.  It  then 
manufactured  the  allegories  in  the  book  of  Genesis  into  fact, 
and  the  allegorical  tree  of  life  and  the  tree  of  knowledge  into 
real  trees,  contrary  to  the  belief  of  the  first  Christians,  and  for 
which  there  is  not  the  least  authority  in  any  of  the  books  of 
the  New  Testament ;  for  in  none  of  them  is  there  any  mention 
made  of  such  place  as  the  Garden  of  Eden,  nor  of  any  thing 
that  is  said  to  have  happened  there. 

But  the  Church  of  Rome  could  not  erect  the  person  called 
Jesus  into  a  Saviour  of  the  world  without  making  the  alle- 
gories in  the  book  of  Genesis  into  fact,  though  the  New  Testa- 
ment, as  before  observed,  gives  not  authority  for  it.  All  at 
once  the  allegorical  tree  of  knowledge  became,  according  to 
the  church,  a  real  tree,  the  fruit  of  it  real  fruit,  and  the  eating 
of  it  sinful.  As  priestcraft  was  always  the  enemy  of  know- 
ledge, because  priestcraft  supports  itself  by  keeping  people  in 
delusion  and  ignorance,  it  was  consistent  with  its  policy  to 
make  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  a  real  sin. 

The  Church  of  Rome  having  done  this,  it  then  brings  for- 
ward Jesus  the  son  of  Mary  as  suffering  death  to  redeem  man- 
kind from  sin,  which  Adam,  it  says,  had  brought  into  the 
world  by  eating  the  fruit  of  the  tree  of  knowledge.  But  as  it 
is  impossible  for  reason  to  believe  such  a  story,  because  it  can 
see  no  reason  for  it,  nor  have  any  evidence  of  it,  the  church 
then  tells  us  we  must  not  regard  our  reason,  but  must  believe, 
as  it  were,  and  that  through  thick  and  thin,  as  if  God  had 
given  man  reason  like  a  plaything,  or  a  rattle,  on  purpose  to 
make  fun  of  him.  Reason  is  the  forbidden  tree  of  priestcraft, 
and  may  serve  to  explain  the  allegory  of  the  forbidden  tree  of 
knowledge,  for  we  may  reasonably  suppose  the  allegory  had 
some  meaning  and  application  at  the  time  it  was  invented.  It 


312  OF   THE   RELIGION   OF  DEISM,   ETC. 

was  the  practice  of  the  eastern  nations  to  convey  their  mean- 
ing by  allegory,  and  relate  it  in  the  manner  of  fact.  Jesus 
followed  the  same  method,  yet  nobody  ever  supposed  the  alle- 
gory or  parable  of  the  rich  man  and  Lazarus,  the  prodigal  son, 
the  ten  virgins,  &c.,  wore  facts.  Why  then  should  the  tree  of 
knowledge,  which  is  far  more  romantic  in  idea  than  the  para- 
bles in  the  New  Testament  are,  be  supposed  to  be  a  real  tree.* 
The  answer  to  this  is,  because  the  church  could  not  make  its 
new  fangled  system,  which  it  called  Christianity,  hold  together 
without  it.  To  have  made  Christ  to  die  on  account  of  an  alle- 
gorical tree  would  have  been  too  bare-faced  a  fable. 

But  the  account,  as  it  is  given  of  Jesus  in  the  New  Testament, 
even  visionary  as  it  is,  does  not  support  the  oreed  of  the  church 
that  he  died  for  the  redemption  of  the  world.  According  to 
that  account  he  was  crucified  and  buried  on  the  Friday,  and 
rose  again  in  good  health  on  the  Sunday  morning,  for  we  do 
not  hear  that  he  was  sick.  This  cannot  be  called  dying,  and  is 
rather  making  fun  of  death  than  suffering  it.  There  are  thou- 
sands of  men  and  women  also,  who  if  they  could  know  they 
should  come  back  again  in  good  health  in  about  thirty-six  hours, 
would  prefer  such  kind  of  death  for  the  sake  of  experiment,  and 
to  know  what  the  other  side  of  the  grave  was.  Why  then 
should  that  which  would  be  only  a  voyage  of  curious  amusement 
to  us  be  magnified  into  merit  and  suffering  in  him  ]  If  a  God 
he  could  not  suffer  death,  for  immort_  ity  cannot  die,  and  as  a 
man  his  death  could  be  no  more  than  the  death  of  any  other 
person. 

The  belief  of  the  redemption  of  Jesus  Christ  is  altogether  an 
invention  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  not  the  doctrine  of  the  New 
Testament.  What  the  writers  of  the  New  Testament  attempted 
to  prove  by  the  story  of  Jesus  is  the  resurrection  of  the  same 
body  from  the  grave,  which  was  the  belief  of  the  Pharisees,  in 
opposition  to  the  Sadducees  (a  sect  of  Jews),  who  denied  it. 
Paul,  who  was  brought  up  a  Pharisee,  labors  hard  at  this  point, 
for  it  was  the  creed  of  his  own  Pharisaical  church.  The  15th 
chap,  of  1.  Corinthians  is  full  of  supposed  cases  and  assertions 
about  the  resurrection  of  the  same  body,  but  there  is  not  a 
word  in  it  about  redemption.  This  chapter  makes  part  of  the 

*The  remark  of  the  Emperor  Julian,  on  the  story  of  The  Tree  of  Know- 
ledge, is  worth  observing.  "If,"  saM  he,  "there  ever  had  tieen,  or  could  lie, 
a  Tree  of  Knowledge,  in-tead  of  God  forbidding  man  to  eat  thereof,  it  would 
be  that  of  which  he  would  order  him  to  eat  the  must. " 


OF  THE  RELIGION   OF  DEISM,   ETC.  313 

funeral  service  of  the  Episcopal  church.  The  dogma  of  the  re- 
demption is  the  fable  of  priestcraft  invented  since  the  time  the 
New  Testament  was  compiled,  and  the  agreeable  delusion  of  it 
suited  with  the  depravity  of  immoral  livers.  When  men  are 
taught  to  ascribe  all  their  crimes  and  vices  to  the  temptations  of 
the  Devil,  and  to  believe  that  Jesus,  by  his  death,  rubs  all  off 
and  pays  their  passage  to  heaven  gratis,  they  become  as  care- 
less in  morals  as  a  spendthrift  would  be  of  money,  were  he  told 
that  his  father  had  engaged  to  pay  off  all  his  scores.  It  is  a 
doctrine,  not  only  dangerous  to  morals  in  this  world,  but  to  our 
happiness  in  the  next  world,  because  it  holds  out  such  a  cheap, 
easy,  and  lazy  way  of  getting  to  heaven  as  has  a  tendency  to 
induce  men  to  hug  the  delusion  of  it  to  their  own  injury. 

But  there  are  times  when  men  have  serious  thoughts,  and  it 
is  at  such  times,  when  they  begin  to  think,  that  they  begin  to 
doubt  the  truth  of  the  Christian  Religion,  and  well  they  may, 
for  it  is  too  fanciful  and  too  full  of  conjecture,  inconsistency, 
improbability,  and  irrationality,  to  afford  consolation  to  the 
thoughtful  man.  His  reason  revolts  against  his  creed.  He 
sees  that  none  of  its  articles  are  proved,  or  can  be  proved.  He 
may  believe  that  such  a  person  as  is  called  Jesus  (for  Christ 
was  not  his  name)  was  born  and  grew  to  be  a  man,  because  it 
is  no  more  than  a  natural  and  probable  case.  But  who  is  to 
prove  he  is  the  son  of  God,  that  he  was  begotten  by  the  Holy 
Ghost  ?  Of  these  things  there  can  be  no  proof,  and  that  which 
admits  not  of  proof  and  is  against  the  laws  of  probability,  and 
the  order  of  nature  which  God  himself  has  established,  is  not 
an  object  for  belief.  God  has  not  given  man  reason  to  em- 
barrass him,  but  to  prove  his  being  imposed  upon. 

He  may  believe  that  Jesus  was  crucified,  because  many 
others  were  crucified,  but  who  is  to  prove  he  was  crucified  for 
the  sins  of  the  world  ?  This  article  has  no  evidence,  not  even  in 
the  New  Testament;  and  if  it  had,  where  is  the  proof  that  the 
New  Testament,  in  relating  things  neither  probable  nor  prove- 
able,  is  to  be  believed  as  true  1  When  an  article  in  a  creed 
does  not  admit  of  proof  nor  of  probability,  the  salve  is  to  call 
it  revelation;  but  this  is  only  putting  one  difficulty  in  the  place 
of  another,  for  it  is  as  impossible  to  prove  a  thing  to  be  revela- 
tion as  it  is  to  prove  that  Mary  was  gotten  with  child  by  the 
Holy  Ghost. 

Here  it  is  that  the  religion  of  Deism  is  superior  to  the  Chris- 
tian religion.  It  is  free  from  all  those  invented  and  torturing 


314  OF   THE   KELIGION    OF   DEISM,   ETC. 

articles  that  shock  cur  reason  or  injure  our  humanity,  and  with 
which  the  Christian  religion  abounds.  Its  creed  is  pure  and 
sublimely  simple.  It  believes  in  God  and  there  it  rests.  It 
honors  reason  as  the  choicest  gift  of  God  to  man,  and  the 
faculty  by  which  he  is  enabled  to  contemplate  the  power,  wis- 
dom and  goodness  of  the  Creator  displayed  in  the  creation ;  and 
reposing  itself  on  his  protection,  both  here  and  hereafter,  it 
avoids  all  presumptuous  belief,  and  rejects,  as  the  fabulous  in- 
ventions of  men,  all  books  pretending  to  revelation. 

T   P. 


LETTER  TO  SAMUEL  ADAMS.  315 


LETTER  TO   SAMUEL  ADAMS. 


MY  DEAR  AND  VENERABLE  FRIEND, 

I  RECEIVED  with  great  pleasure  your  friendly  and  affection 
ate  letter  of  Nov.  30th,  and  I  thank  you  also  for  the  frankness 
of  it.  Between  men  in  pursuit  of  truth,  and  whose  object  is 
the  happiness  of  man  both  here  and  hereafter,  there  ought  to  be 
no  reserve.  Even  error  has  a  claim  to  indulgence,  if  not  to  re- 
spect, when  it  is  believed  to  be  truth.  I  am  obliged  to  you  for 
your  affectionate  remembrance  of  what  you  style  my  services 
in  awakening  the  public  mind  to  a  declaration  of  independence, 
and  supporting  it  after  it  was  declared.  I  also,  like  you,  have 
often  looked  back  on  those  times,  and  have  thought,  that  if  in- 
dependence had  not  been  declared  at  the  time  it  was,  the  public 
mind  could  not  have  been  brought  up  to  it  afterwards.  It  will 
immediately  occur  to  you,  who  were  so  intimately  acquainted 
with  the  situation  of  things  at  that  time,  that  I  allude  to  the 
black  times  of  seventy-six;  for  though  I  know,  and  you  my 
friend  also  know,  they  were  no  other  than  the  natural  conse- 
quences of  the  military  blunders  of  that  campaign,  the  country 
might  have  viewed  them  as  proceeding  from  a  natural  inability 
to  support  its  cause  against  the  enemy,  and  have  sunk  undei 
the  despondency  of  that  misconceived  idea.  This  was  the  im- 
pression against  which  it  was  necessary  the  country  should  be 
strongly  animated. 

I  now  come  to  the  second  part  of  your  letter,  on  which  I  shall 
be  as  frank  with  you  as  you  are  with  me.  "  But  (say  you)  when 
I  heard  you  had  turned  your  mind  to  a  defence  of  infidelity, 
I  felt  myself  much  astonished,"  <fec.  What,  my  good  friend, 
do  you  call  believing  in  God  infidelity?  for  that  is  the  great 
point  mentioned  in  the  "  Age  of  Reason  "  against  all  divided 
beliefs  and  allegorical  divinities.  The  Bishop  of  Llandaff  (Dr. 
Watson)  not  only  acknowledges  this,  but  pays  me  some  compli- 
ments upon  it,  in  his  answer  to  the  second  part  of  that  work. 

"There  is  (says  he)  a  philosophical  sublimity  in  some  of  your 
ideas,  when  speaking  of  the  Creator  of  the  Universe." 


316  LETTEll   TO   SAMUML    ADAMS. 

What  then  (my  much  esteemed  friend,  for  I  do  not  respect 
you  the  less  because  we  differ,  and  that  perhaps  not  much,  in 
religious  sentiments),  what,  I  ask,  is  the  thing  called  infidelity  1 
If  we  go  back  to  your  ancestors  and  mine,  three  or  four  hun- 
dred years  ago,  for  we  must  have  fathers  and  grandfathers  or 
we  should  not  have  been  here,  we  shall  find  them  praying  to 
saints  and  virgins,  and  believing  in  purgatory  and  transubstan- 
tiation ;  and  therefore,  all  of  us  are  infidels  according  to  our 
forefather's  belief.  If  we  go  back  to  times  more  ancient  we 
shall  again  be  infidels  according  to  the  belief  of  some  other 
forefathers. 

The  case,  my  friend,  is,  that  the  world  has  been  overrun 
with  fable  and  creed  of  human  invention,  with  sectaries  of 
whole  nations  against  other  nations,  and  sectaries  of  those 
sectaries  in  each  of  them  against  each  other.  Every  sectary, 
except  the  Quakers,  have  been  persecutors.  Those  who  fled 
from  persecution,  persecuted  in  their  turn,  and  it  is  this  con- 
fusion of  creeds  that  has  tilled  the  world  with  persecution,  and 
deluged  it  with  blood.  Even  the  depredation  on  your  com- 
merce by  the  Barbary  powers,  sprang  from  the  crusades  of  the 
church  against  those  powers.  It  was  a  war  of  creed  against 
creed,  each  boasting  of  God  for  its  author,  and  reviling  earn 
other  with  the  name  of  infidel.  If  I  do  not  believe  as  you  be- 
lieve, it  proves  that  you  do  not  believe  as  I  believe,  and  this  is 
all  that  it  proves. 

There  is,  however,  one  point  of  union  wherein  all  religions 
meet,  and  that  is  in  the  first  article  of  every  man's  creed,  and 
of  every  nation's  creed,  that  has  any  creed  at  all,  7"  believe  in 
God.  Those  who  rest  here,  and  there  are  millions  who  do,  can- 
not be  wrong  as  far  as  their  creed  goes.  Those  who  choose  to 
go  further  may  be  wrong,  for  it  is  impossible  that  all  can  be 
right,  since  there  is  so  much  contradiction  among  them.  The 
first,  therefore,  are,  in  my  opinion,  on  the  safest  side. 

I  presume  you  are  so  far  acquainted  with  ecclesiastical  his- 
tory as  to  know,  and  the  bishop  who  has  answered  me  has  been 
obliged  to  acknowledge  the  fact,  that  the  Books  that  compose 
the  New  Testament,  were  voted  by  yeas  and  nays  to  be  the 
Word  of  God,  as  you  now  vote  a  law,  by  the  Popish  Council 
of  Nice  and  Laodicea,  about  fourteen  hundred  and  fifty  years 
ago.  .With  respect  to  the  fact  there  is  no  dispute,  neither 
do  I  mention  it  for  the  sake  of  controversy.  This  vote  may 
appear  authority  enough  to  some  and  not  authority  enough  to 


LETTER  TO  SAMUEL  ADAMS.  317 

others.  It  is  proper,  however,  that  everybody  should  know 
the  fact. 

With  respect  to  the  "  Age  of  Reason,"  which  you  so  much 
condemn,  and  that,  I  believe,  without  having  read  it,  for  you 
say  only  that  you  heard  of  it,  I  will  inform  you  of  a  circum- 
stance, because  you  cannot  know  it  by  other  means. 

I  have  said  in  the  first  page  of  the  first  part  of  that  work, 
that  it  had  long  been  my  intention  to  publish  my  thoughts 
upon  religion,  but  that  I  had  reserved  it  to  a  later  time  of  Ufe. 
I  have  now  to  inform  you  why  I  wrote  it,  and  published  it  at 
the  time  I  did. 

In  the  first  place,  I  saw  my  life  in  continual  danger.  My 
friends  were  falling  as  fast  as  the  guillotine  could  cut  their  heads 
off,  and  as  I  expected  every  day  the  same  fate,  I  resolved  to 
begin  my  work.  I  appeared  to  myself  to  be  on  my  death  bed, 
for  death  was  on  every  side  of  me,  and  I  had  no  time  to  lose. 
This  accounts  for  my  writing  at  the  time  I  did,  and  so  nicely  did 
the  time  and  intention  meet,  that  I  had  not  finished  the  first 
part  of  the  work  more  than  six  hours  before  I  was  arrested  and 
taken  to  prison.  Joel  Barlow  was  with  me,  and  knows  the 
fact. 

In  the  second  place,  the  people  of  France  were  running  head- 
long into  atheism,  and  I  had  the  work  translated  and  published 
in  their  own  language,  to  stop  them  in  that  career,  and  fix 
them  to  the  first  article  (as  I  have  before  said)  of  every  man's 
creed,  who  has  any  creed  at  all,  /  believe  in  God.  I  endangered 
my  own  life,  in  the  first  place,  by  opposing  in  the  Convention 
the  executing  of  the  king,  and  laboring  to  show  they  were 
trying  the  monarch  and  not  the  man,  and  that  the  crimes  im- 
puted to  him  were  the  crimes  of  the  monarchical  system;  and 
endangered  it  a  second  time  by  opposing  atheism,  and  yet  some 
of  your  priests,  for  I  do  not  believe  that  all  are  perverse,  cry 
out,  in  the  war-whoop  of  monarchical  priestcraft,  what  an  infidel ! 
what  a  wicked  man  is  Thomas  Paine !  They  might  as  well 
add,  for  he  believes  in  God,  and  is  against  shedding  blood. 

But  all  this  war-whoop  of  the  pulpit  has  some  concealed 
object.  Religion  is  not  the  cause,  but  is  the  stalking-horse. 
They  put  it  forward  to  conceal  themselves  behind  it.  It  is  not 
a  secret  that  there  has  been  a  party  composed  of  the  leaders  of 
the  Federalists,  for  I  do  not  include  all  Federalists  with  their 
leaders,  who  have  been  working  by  various  means  for  several 
years  past,  to  overturn  the  Federal  Constitution  established  on 


318  LETTER  TO   SAMUEL  ADAMS. 

the  representative  system,  and  place  government  in  the  new 
world  on  the  corrupt  system  of  the  old.  To  accomplish  this  a 
large  standing  army  was  necessary,  and  as  a  pretence  for  such 
an  army,  the  danger  of  a  foreign  invasion  must  be  bellowed 
forth  from  the  pulpit,  from  the  press,  and  by  their  public 
orators. 

I  am  not  of  a  disposition  inclined  to  suspicion.  It  is  in  its 
nature  a  mean  and  cowardly  passion,  and  upon  the  whole,  even 
admitting  error  into  the  case,  it  is  better,  I  am  sure  it  is  more 
generous,  to  be  wrong  on  the  side  of  confidence  than  on  the  side 
of  suspicion.  But  I  know  as  a  fact,  that  the  English  Govern- 
ment distributes  annually  fifteen  hundred  pounds  sterling 
among  the  Presbyterian  ministers  in  England,  and  one  hundred 
among  those  of  Ireland;*  and  when  I  hear  of  the  strange  dis- 
courses of  some  of  your  ministers  and  professors  of  colleges  I 
cannot,  as  the  Quakers  say,  find  freedom  in  my  mind  to  acquit 
them.  Their  anti-revolutionary  doctrines  invite  suspicion,  even 
against  one's  will,  and  in  spite  of  one's  charity  to  believe  well  of 
them. 

As  you  have  given  me  one  Scripture  phrase,  I  wil  give  you 
another  for  those  ministers.  It  is  said  in  Exodus,  chapter  xxii. 
verse  28,  "  Thou  shalt  not  revile  the  gods,  nor  curse  the  ruler 
of  thy  people."  But  those  ministers,  such  I  mean  as  Dr. 
Emmons,  curse  ruler  and  people  both,  for  the  majority  are, 
politically,  the  people,  and  ifc  is  those  who  have  chosen  the 
ruler  whom  they  curse. 

As  to  the  first  part  of  the  verse,  that  of  not  reviling  the  gods, 
it  makes  no  part  of  my  Scripture:  I  have  but  one  God. 

Since  I  began  this  letter,  for  I  write  it  by  piecemeals  as  I 
have  leisure,  I  have  seen  the  four  letters  that  passed  between 
you  and  John  Adams.  In  your  first  letter  you  say,  "  Let 
divines  and  philosophers,  statesmen  and  patriots,  unite  their 
mdeavors  to  renovate  the  age,  by  inculcating  in  the  minds  of 
youth  the  fear  and  love  of  the  Deity  and  universal  philan- 
thropy" Why,  my  dear  friend,  this  is  exactly  my  religion, 
and  is  the  whole  of  it.  That  you  may  have  an  idea  that  the 
"Age  of  Reason"  (for  I  believe  you  have  not  read  it)  inculcates 
this  reverential  fear  and  love  of  the  Deity,  I  will  give  you  a 
paragraph  from  it. 

*  There  must  undoubtedly  be  a  very  gross  mistake  in  respect  to  the 
amount  said  to  be  expended ;  the  sums  intended  to  be  expressed  were  prob- 
ably fifteen  hundred  thousand,  and  one  hundred  thousand  pounds. — EDITOR. 


LETTER  TO   SAMUEL  ADAMS.  319 

"  Do  we  want  to  contemplate  his  power  ?  We  see  it  in  the 
immensity  of  the  Creation.  Do  we  want  to  contemplate  his 
wisdom  ?  We  s,ee  it  in  the  unchangeable  order  by  which  the 
incomprehensible  whole  is  governed.  Do  we  want  to  contem- 
plate his  munificence  ?  We  see  it  in  the  abundance  with  which 
he  fills  the  earth.  Do  we  want  to  contemplate  his  mercy  1  We 
see  it  in  his  not  withholding  that  abundance  even  from  the 
unthankful." 

As  I  am  fully  with  you  in  your  first  part,  that  respecting 
the  Deity,  so  am  I  in  your  second,  that  of  universal  philan- 
thropy; by  which  I  do  not  mean  merely  the  sentimental  bene- 
volence of  wishing  well,  but  the  practical  benevolence  of  doing 
good.  We  cannot  serve  the  Deity  in  the  manner  we  serve 
those  who  cannot  do  without  that  service.  He  needs  no  ser- 
vices from  us.  We  can  add  nothing  to  eternity.  But  it  is  in 
our  power  to  render  a  service  acceptable  to  him,  and  that  is, 
not  by  praying,  but  by  endeavoring  to  make  his  creatures 
happy.  A  man  does  not  serve  God  when  he  prays,  for  it  is 
himself  he  is  trying  to  serve;  and  as  to  hiring  or  paying  men 
to  pray,  as  if  the  Deity  needed  instruction,  it  is  in  my  opinion 
an  abomination.  One  good  school-master  is  of  more  use  and  of 
more  value  than  a  load  of  such  parsons  as  Dr.  Emmons,  and 
some  others. 

You,  my  dear  and  much  respected  friend,  are  now  far  in  the 
vale  of  years;  I  have  yet,  I  believe,  some  years  in  store,  for  I 
have  a  good  state  of  health  and  a  happy  mind;  I  take  care  of 
both,  by  nourishing  the  first  with  temperance,  and  the  latter 
with  abundance. 

This  I  believe  you  will  allow  to  be  the  true  philosophy  of 
life.  You  will  see  by  my  third  letter  to  the  citizens  of  the 
United  States,  that  I  have  been  exposed  to,  and  preserved 
through  many  dangers;  but,  instead  of  buffeting  the  Deity 
with  prayers,  as  if  I  distrusted  him,  or  must  dictate  to  him,  I 
reposed  myself  on  his  protection;  and  you,  my  friend,  will  find, 
even  in  your  last  moments,  more  consolation  in  the  silence  of 
resignation  than  in  the  murmuring  wish  of  prayer. 

In  everything  which  you  say  in  your  second  letter  to  John 
Adams,  respecting  our  rights  as  men  and  citizens  in  this  world, 
I  am  perfectly  with  you.  On  other  points  we  have  to  answer 
to  our  Creator  and  not  to  each  other.  The  key  of  heaven  is 
not  in  the  keeping  of  any  sect,  nor  ought  the  road  to  it  to  be 
obstructed  by  any.  Our  relation  to  each  other  in  this  world 


320  LETTER  TO  SAMUEL  ADAMS. 

is,  as  men,  and  the  man  who  is  a  friend  to  man  and  to  his 
rights,  let  his  religious  opinions  be  what  they  may,  is  a  good 
citizen,  to  whom  I  can  give,  as  I  ought  to  do,  and  as  every 
other  ought,  the  right  hand  of  fellowship,  and  to  none  with 
more  hearty  good  will,  my  dear  friend,  than  to  you. 

THOMAS  PAINS, 
FBDBBAI,  Cm,  Jan.  1,  1803. 


LETTER  TO   ME.   DEAN.  821 


EXTRACT  FROM  A 

LETTER  TO  ANDEEW  A.  DEAN.* 


RESPECTED  FRIEND, 

I  RECEIVED  your  friendly  letter,  for  which  I  am  obliged  to 
you.  It  is  three  weeks  ago  to-day  (Sunday,  Aug.  15),  that  I 
was  struck  with  a  fit  of  an  apoplexy,  that  deprived  me  of  all 
sense  and  motion.  I  had  neither  pulse  nor  breathing,  and  the 
people  about  me  supposed  me  dead.  I  had  felt  exceedingly 
well  that  day,  and  had  just  taken  a  slice  of  bread  and  butter, 
for  supper,  and  was  going  to  bed.  The  tit  took  me  on  the 
the  stairs,  as  suddenly  as  if  I  had  been  shot  through  the  head ; 
and  I  got  so  very  much  hurt  by  the  fall,  that  I  have  not  been  able 
to  get  in  and  out  of  bed  since  that  day,  otherwise  than  being 
lifted  out  in  a  blanket,  by  two  persons ;  yet  all  this  while  my 
mental  faculties  have  remained  as  perfect  as  L  ever  enjoyed 
them.  I  consider  the  scene  I  have  passed  through  as  an  ex 
periment  on  dying,  and  I  find  that  death  has  no  terrors  for  me. 
As  to  the  people  called  Christians,  they  have  no  evidence  that 
their  religion  is  true.f  There  is  no  more  proof  that  the  Bible 
is  the  word  of  God,  than  that  the  Koran  of  Mahomet  is  the 
word  of  God.  It  is  education  makes  all  the  difference.  Man, 
before  he  begins  to  think  for  himself,  is  as  much  the  child  of 
habit  in  Greeds  as  he  is  in  ploughing  and  sowing.  Yet  creeds, 
like  opinions,  prove  nothing. 

Where  is  the  evidence  that  the  person  called  Jesus  Christ  is 
the  begotten  Son  of  God  ?  The  case  admits  not  of  evidence 

*Mr.  Dean  rented  Mr.  Paine's  farm  at  New  Rochelle. 

fMr.  Paine's  entering  upon  the  subject  of  religion  on  this  occasion,  it  may 
be  presumed,  was  occasioned  by  the  following  passage  in  Mr.  Dean's  letter 
to  him,  viz.  : 

"I  have  read  with  good  attention  your  manuscript  on  dreams,  and  ex- 
amination of  the  prophecies  in  the  Bible.  I  am  now  searching  the  old  pro- 
phecies, and  comparing  the  same  to  those  said  to  be  quoted  in  the  New 
Testament.  I  confess  the  comparison  is  a  matter  worthy  of  our  serious  at 
tention  ;  I  know  not  the  result  till  I  finish  ;  then  if  you  be  living,  I  shall 
communicate  the  same  to  you ;  I  hope  to  be  with  you  soon." 
21 


322  LETTER  TO   MR.  DEAN. 

either  to  our  senses  or  our  mental  faculties  :  neither  has  God 
given  to  man  any  talent  by  which  such  a  thing  is  comprehen- 
sible. It  cannot  therefore  be  an  object  for  faith  to  act  upon, 
for  faith  is  nothing  more  than  an  assent  the  mind  gives  to 
something  it  sees  cause  to  believe  is  fact.  But  priests,  preach- 
3rs,  and  fanatics,  put  imagination  in  the  place  of  faith,  and  it 
is  the  nature  of  the  imagination  to  believe  without  evidence. 

If  Joseph  the  carpenter  dreamed  (as  the  book  of  Matthew, 
chap.  1st,  says  he  did),  that  his  betrothed  wife,  Mary,  was  with 
child,  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  that  an  angel  told  him  so,  I  am 
not  obliged  to  put  faith  in  his  dream,  nor  do  I  put  any,  for  I 
put  no  faith  in  my  own  dreams,  and  I  should  be  weak  and 
foolish  indeed  to  put  faith  in  the  dreams  of  others. 

The  Christian  religion  is  derogatory  to  the  Creator  in  all  its 
articles.  It  puts  the  Creator  in  an  inferior  point  of  view,  and 
places  the  Christian  Devil  above  him.  It  is  he,  according  to 
the  absurd  story  in  Genesis,  that  outwits  the  Creator  in  the 
garden  of  Eden,  and  steals  from  Lim  his  favorite  creature,  man, 
and,  at  last,  obliges  him  to  beget  a  son,  and  put  that  son  to 
death,  to  get  man  back  again,  and  this  the  priests  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion  call  redemption. 

Christian  authors  exclaim  against  the  practice  of  offering  up 
human  sacrifices,  which,  they  say,  is  done  in  some  countries ; 
and  those  authors  make  those  exclamations  without  ever  reflect- 
ing that  their  own  doctrine  of  salvation  is  founded  on  a  human 
sacrifice.  They  are  saved,  they  say,  by  the  blood  of  Christ. 
The  Christian  religion  begins  with  a  dream  and  ends  with  a 
murder. 

As  I  am  now  well  enough  to  sit  up  some  hours  in  the  day, 
though  not  well  enough  to  get  up  without  help,  I  employ  my- 
self as  I  have  always  done,  in  endeavouring  to  bring  man  to  the 
right  use  of  the  reason  that  God  has  given  him,  and  to  direct 
his  mind  immediately  to  his  Creator,  and  not  to  fanciful  second- 
ary beings  called  mediators,  as  if  God  was  superannuated  or 
ferocious. 

As  to  the  book  called  the  Bible,  is  it  blasphemy  to  call  it  the 
word  of  God.  It  is  a  book  of  lies  and  contradiction,  and  a  history 
of  bad  times  and  bad  men.  There  is  but  a  few  good  characters 
in  the  whole  book.  The  fable  of  Christ  and  his  twelve  apostles, 
which  is  a  parody  on  the  sun  and  the  twelve  signs  of  Zodiac, 
copied  from  the  ancient  religions  of  the  eastern  world,  is  the 
least  hurtful  part  Everything  told  of  Christ  has  reference  to 


LETTER  TO  MR.   DEAN.  323 

the  sun.  Hia  reported  resurrection  is  at  sunrise,  and  that  on 
the  first  day  of  the  week  ;  that  is,  on  the  day  anciently  dedica- 
ted to  the  sun,  and  from  thence  called  Sunday ;  in  latin  Dies 
Soils,  the  day  of  the  sun ;  as  the  next  day,  Monday,  is  Moon- 
day.  But  there  is  no  room  in  a  letter  to  explain  these  things. 

While  man  keeps  to  the  belief  of  one  God,  his  reason  unites 
with  his  creed.  He  is  not  shocked  with  contradictions  and 
horrid  stories.  His  bible  is  the  heavens  and  the  earth.  He 
beholds  his  Creator  in  all  his  works,  and  every  thing  he  beholds 
inspires  him  with  reverence  and  gratitude.  From  the  good- 
ness of  God  to  all,  he  learns  his  duty  to  his  fellow  man,  and 
stands  self-reproved  when  he  transgresses  it  Such  a  man  is  no 
persecutor. 

But  when  he  multiplies  his  creed  with  imaginary  things,  of 
which  he  can  have  neither  evidence  nor  conception,  such  as  the 
tale  of  the  garden  of  Eden,  the  talking  serpent,  the  fall  of  man, 
the  dreams  of  Joseph  the  carpenter,  the  pretended  resurrection 
and  ascension,  of  which  there  is  even  no  historical  relation,  for 
no  historian  of  those  times  mentions  such  a  thing,  he  gets  into 
the  pathless  region  of  confusion,  and  turns  either  frantic  or 
hypocrite.  He  forces  his  mind,  and  pretends  to  believe  what 
he  does  not  believe.  This  is  in  general  the  case  with  the  Metho- 
dists. Their  religion  is  all  creed  and  no  morals. 

I  have  now  my  friend  given  you  a  fac  smile  of  my  mind  on 
the  subject  of  religion  and  creeds,  and  my  wish  is,  that  you 
make  this  letter  as  publicly  known  as  you  find  opportunities 
of  doing. 

Yours,  in  friendship, 

THOMAS  PAINE. 
N.  Y.,  Aug.  1806. 

THE   END. 


THB 


POLITICAL  WOKKS 


THOMAS   PAINE, 

MOVBB  OF  THB  "  DECLARATION  OF  INDEPENDENCE,"  SECRETAKT  OF  FORBGH 

AFFAIRS  UNDER  THE  FIRST  AMERICAN  CONGRESS,  AND  MEMBER 

OP  THE  NATIONAL  CONVENTION  OF  FRANCS. 


TlMM  are  Out  time,  that  try  man's  io  i  la. '— "  The  world  ii  my  country ;  to  do  good,  my  religion." 


CHICAGO  AND  NEW  YORK : 

BELFORD,    CLARKE    &    CO. 

1885. 


PRINTED  AND  BOUND  BY 

DONOHUE  &  HENNEBERRY, 

CHICAGO. 


INTRODUCTION. 


PERHAPS  the  sentiments  contained  in  the  following  pages,  art 
not  yet  sufficiently  fashionable  to  procure  them  general  favor ; 
a  long  habit  of  not  thinking  a  thing  wrong,  gives  it  a  superfi 
cial  appearance  of  being  right,  and  raises  at  first  a  formidable, 
outcry  in  defence  of  custom.  But  the  tumult  soon  subsides. 
Time  makes  more  converts  than  reason. 

As  a  long  and  violent  abuse  of  power  is  generally  the  means 
of  calling  the  right  of  it  in  question,  (and  in  matters  too  which 
might  never  have  been  thought  of,  had  not  the  sufferers  beei. 
aggravated  into  the  inquiry,)  and  as  the  King  of  England  hath 
undertaken  in  his  own  right,  to  support  the  parliament  in  whal 
he  calls  theirs,  and  as  the  good  people  of  this  country  are  griev- 
ously oppressed  by  the  combination,  they  have  an  undoubted 
privilege  to  inquire  into  the  pretensions  of  both,  and  equally  to 
reject  the  usurpations  of  either. 

In  the  following  sheets,  the  author  hath  studiously  avoided 
everything  which  is  personal  among  ourselves.  Compliments 
as  well  as  censure  to  individuals  make  no  part  thereof.  The 
wise  and  the  worthy  need  not  the  triumph  of  a  pamphlet ; 
and  those  whose  sentiments  are  injudicious  or  unfriendly,  will 
cease  of  themselves,  unless  too  much  pains  is  bestowed  upon 
their  conversion. 

The  cause  of  America  is,  in  a  great  measure,  the  cause  of  all 
mankind.  Many  circumstances  have,  and  will  arise,  which  are 


INTRODUCTION. 

not  local,  but  universal,  and  through  which  the  principles  of  all 
lovers  of  mankind  are  affected,  and  in  the  event  of  which,  their 
affections  are  interested.  The  laying  a  country  desolate  with 
fire  and  sword,  declaring  war  against  the  natural  rights  of  all 
mankind,  and  extirpating  the  defenders  thereof  from  the  face 
of  the  earth,  is  the  concern  of  every  man  to  whom  nature  hath 
qiven  the  power  of  feeling;  of  which  class  regardless  of  party 
censure,  ia 

THB  AUTHOB, 

PHILADELPHIA,  Feb.  14,  &76, 


COMMON  SENSE: 

ADDRESSED   TO   THE    INHABITANTS    OP   AMERICA,    ON   THB 
FOLLOWING    INTERESTING   SUBJECTS,    VIZ.: 

L  -OF  THE  ORIGIN  AND  DESIGN  OF  GOVERNMENT  IN  GENERAL,  WITH 
CONCISE  EEMARKS  ON  THE  ENGLISH  CONSTITUTION. 

II. — OF  MONARCHY  AND  HEREDITARY  SUCCESSION. 
HL — THOUGHTS  OF  THE  PRESENT  STATE  OF  AMERICAN  AFFAIRS. 

IV. — OF  THE  PRESENT  ABILITY  OF  AMERICA,  WITH  SOME  MISCELLANEOUS 
REFLECTIONS.    To  WHICH  is  ADDED  AN  APPENDIX. 


"Man  knows  no  matter  save  creating  heaven, 
Or  thow  whom  choice  and  common  good  ordain 


PUBLISHER'S  INTRODUCTION. 


"HAVE  you  seen  the  pamphlet,  'Common  Sense?'"  asked 
Major  General  Lee,  in  a  letter  to  Washington ;  "  I  never  saw 
such  a  masterly,  irresistible  performance.  It  will,  if  I  mistake 
not,  in  concurrence  with  the  transcendent  folly  and  wickedness 
of  the  ministry,  give  the  coup-de-grace  to  Great  Britain.  In 
short,  I  own  myself  convinced  by  the  arguments,  of  the  neces- 
sity of  separation." 

General  Washington,  in  a  letter  to  Joseph  Reed,  Jan.  31, 
1776,  says  :  "A  few  more  such  naming  arguments  as  were  ex- 
hibited at  Falmouth  and  Norfolk,  added  to  the  sound  doctrine 
and  unanswerable  reasoning  contained  in  the  pamphlet  '  Com- 
mon Sense,'  will  not  leave  numbers  at  a  loss  to  decide  on  the 
propriety  of  a  separation." 

"That  book"  (Common  Sense),  says  Dr.  Rush,  "burst  forth 
from  the  press  with  an  effect  that  has  been  rarely  produced  by 
types  and  paper,  in  any  age  or  country." 


COMMON  SENSE. 


CH   THE 

ORIGIN  AND  DESIGN  OF  GOVERNMENI  IN  GENERAL, 

WITH   CONCISE  REMARKS   ON   THK   ENGLISH    CONSTITUTION. 

SOME  writers  have  so  confounded  society  with  government, 
as  to  leave  little  or  no  distinction  between  them  ;  whereas  they 
are  not  only  different,  but  have  different  origins.  Society  is 
produced  by  our  wants,  and  government  by  our  wickedness ;  the 
former  promotes  our  happiness  positively  by  uniting  our  affec- 
tions, the  latter  negatively  by  restraining  our  vices.  The  one 
encourages  intercourse,  the  other  creates  distinctions  The  first 
is  a  patron,  the  last  is  a  punisher. 

Society  in  every  state  is  a  blessing,  but  government,  even  in 
its  best  state,  is  but  a  necessary  evii ;  in  its  worst  state  an  in- 
tolerable one ;  for  when  we  suffer  or  are  exposed  to  the  same 
miseries  by  a  government,  which  we  might  expect  in  a  country 
without  government^  our  calamity  is  heightened  by  reflecting 
that  we  furnish  the  means  by  which  we  suffer.  Government, 
like  dress,  is  the  badge  of  lost  innocence  ;  the  palaces  of  kings 
are  built  upon  the  ruins  of  the  bowers  of  paradise.  For,  were 
the  impulses  of  <:onscience  clear,  uniformly  and  irresistibly 
obeyed,  man  would  need  no  other  law-giver;  but  that  not  being 
die  case,  he  finds  it  necessary  to  surrender  up  a  pai*t  of  his  pro- 
perty to  furnish  mean?  for  the  protection  of  the  rest ;  and  this 
he  is  induced  to  do  by  the  same  prudence  which  in  every  other 
case  advises  him  out  of  two  evils  to  choose  the  least  Where- 
fore, security  being  the  true  design  and  end  of  government,  it 
unanswerably  follows  that  whatever  form  thereof  appears  most 
likely  to  ensure  it  to  us,  with  the  least  expense  and  greatest 
benefit,  is  preferable  to  all  others. 

In  order  to  gain  a  clear  and  just  idea  of  the  design  and  end 
of  government,  let  us  suppose  a  small  number  of  persons  settled 


8  COMMON    SE.NSE. 

in  some  sequestered  part  of  the  earth,  unconnected  with  the 
rest,  they  will  then  represent  the  first  peopling  of  any  country, 
or  of  the  world.  In  this  state  of  natural  liberty,  society  will 
be  their  first  thought.  A  thousand  motives  will  excite  them 
thereto ;  the  strength  of  one  man  is  so  unequal  to  his  wants, 
and  his  mind  so  unfitted  for  perpetual  solitude,  that  he  is  soon 
obliged  to  seek  assistance  and  relief  of  another,  who  in  his  turn 
requires  the  same.  Four  or  five  united,  would  be  able  to  raise 
a  tolerable  dwelling  in  the  midst  of  a  wilderness,  but  one  man 
might  labor  out  the  common  period  of  life  without  accomplish- 
ing anything ;  when  he  had  felled  his  timber  he  could  not 
remove  it,  nor  erect  it  after  it  was  removed ;  hunger  in  the 
meantime  would  urge  him  from  his  work,  and  every  different 
want  would  call  him  a  different  way.  Disease,  nay  even  mis- 
fortune, would  be  death,  for  though  neither  might  be  mortal,  yet 
either  would  disable  him  from  living,  and  reduce  him  to  a  state 
in  which  he  might  rather  be  said  to  perish  than  to  die. 

Thus  necessity,  like  a  gravitating  power,  would  soon  form 
our  newly  arrived  emigrants  into  society,  the  reciprocal  blessings 
of  which,  would  supersede,  and  render  the  obligations  of  law 
and  government  unnecessary  while  they  remained  perfectly  just 
to  each  other ,  but  as  nothing  but  heaven  is  impregnable  to 
vice,  it  will  unavoidably  happen,  that  in  proportion  as  they 
surmount  the  first  difficulties  of  emigration,  which  bound  them 
together  in  a  common  cause,  they  will  begin  to  relax  in  their 
duty  and  attachment  to  each  other ;  and  this  remissness  will 
point  out  the  necessity  of  establishing  some  form  of  government 
to  supply  the  defect  of  moral  virtue. 

Some  convenient  tree  will  afford  them  a  state  house,  under 
the  branches  of  which  the  whole  colony  may  assemble  to  delib- 
erate on  public  matters.  It  is  more  than  probable  that  their 
first  laws  will  have  the  title  only  of  Regulations,  and  be  enforced 
by  no  other  penalty  than  public  disesteem.  In  this  first  parlia- 
ment every  man  by  natural  right  will  ha  ve  a  seat. 

But  as  the  colony  increases,  the  public  concerns  will  increase 
likewise,  and  the  distance  at  which  the  members  may  be  sepa 
rated,  will  render  it  too  inconvenient  for  all  of  them  to  meet  on 
every  occasion  as  at  first,  when  their  number  was  small,  their 
habitations  near,  and  the  public  concerns  few  and  trifling.  This 
will  point  out  the  convenience  of  their  consenting  to  leave  the 
legislative  part  to  be  managed  by  a  select  number  chosen  from 
the  whole  body,  who  are  supposed  to  have  the  same  concerns  at 


COMMON    SENSE.  9 

stake  which  those  have  who  appointed  them,  and  who  will  act 
in  the  same  manner  as  the  whole  body  would,  were  they  present. 
If  the  colony  continue  increasing,  it  will  become  necessary  to 
augment  the  number  of  representatives,  and  that  the  interest 
of  every  part  of  the  colony  may  be  attended  to,  it  will  be  found 
best  to  divide  the  whole  into  convenient  parts,  each  part  send- 
ing its  proper  number ;  and  that  the  elected  might  never  form 
to  themselves  an  interest  separate  from  the  electors,  prudence 
will  point  out  the  propriety  of  having  elections  often  :  because 
as  the  elected  might  by  that  means  return  and  mix  again  with 
the  general  body  of  the  electors,  in  a  few  months,  their  fidelity  to 
the  public  will  be  secured  by  the  prudent  reflection  of  not  mak- 
ing a  rod  for  themselves.  And  as  this  frequent  interchange 
will  establish  a  common  interest  with  every  part  of  the  com- 
munity, they  will  -mutually  and  naturally  support  each  other, 
and  on  this  (not  on  the  unmeaning  name  of  King)  depends  the 
strength  of  government  and  the  happiness  of  the  governed. 

Here,  then,  is  the  origin  and  rise  of  government ;  namely  a 
mode  rendered  necessary  by  the  inability  of  moral  virtue  to 
govern  the  world ;  here  too  is  the  design  and  end  of  govern- 
ment, viz.,  freedom  and  security.  And  however  our  eyes  may 
be  dazzled  with  show,  or  our  ears  deceived  by  sound ;  however 
prejudice  may  warp  our  wills,  or  interest  darken  our  under- 
standing, the  simple  voice  of  nature  and  reason  will  say  it  is 
right. 

I  draw  my  idea  of  the  form  of  government  from  a  principle 
in  nature,  which  no  art  cam  overturn,  viz.,  that  the  more  simple 
anything  is,  the  less  liable  it  is  to  be  disordered;  and  the  easier 
repaired  when  disordered;  and  with  this  maxim  in  view,  I  offer 
a  few  remarks  on  the  so  much  boasted  constitution  of  England. 
That  it  was  noble  for  the  dark  and  slavish  times  in  which  it  was 
erected,  is  granted.  When  the  world  was  overrun  with  tyranny 
the  least  remove  therefrom  was  a  glorious  rescue.  But  that  it 
is  imperfect,  subject  to  convulsions,  and  incapable  of  producing 
what  it  seems  to  promise,  is  easily  demonstrated. 

Absolute  governments  (though  the  disgrace  of  human  na- 
ture) have  this  advantage  with  them  that  they  are  simple;  if 
the  people  suffer,  they  know  the  head  from  which  their  suffer- 
ing springs,  know  likewise  the  remedy  and  are  not  bewildered 
by  a  variety  of  causes  and  cures.  But  the  constitution  of  Eng- 
land is  so  exceedingly  complex,  that  the  nation  may  suffer  for 
years  together  without  being  able  to  discover  in  which  nart  the 


10  COMMON  SENSE. 

fault  lies;  some  will  say  in  one  and  some  in  another,  and  every 
political  physician  will  advise  a  different  medicine. 

I  know  it  is  difficult  to  get  over  local  or  long-standing  preju 
dices,  yet  if  we  will  suffer  ourselves  to  examine  the  component 
parts  of  the  English  constitution,  we  shall  find  them  to  be  the 
base  remains  of  two  ancient  tyrannies,  compounded  with  some 
new  republican  materials. 

First. — The  remains  of  monarchical  tyranny  in  the  person  of 
the  king. 

Secondly. — The  remains  of  aristocratical  tyranny  in  the  per- 
sons of  the  peers. 

Thirdly. — The  new  republican  materials,  in  the  persons  of 
the  commons,  on  whose  virtue  depends  the  freedom  of  England. 

The  two  first,  by  being  hereditary  are  independent  of  the 
people;  wherefore  in  a  constitutional  sense  they  contribute 
nothing  to  the  freedom  of  the  state. 

To  say  that  the  constitution  of  England  is  a  union  of  three 
powers,  reciprocally  checking  each  otuer,  is  farcical;  either  the 
words  have  no  meaning,  or  they  are  flat  contradictions. 

To  say  that  the  commons  is  a  check  upon  the  king,  presup- 
poses two  things. 

First. — That  the  king  is  not  to  be  trusted  without  being 
looked  after,  or  in  other  words,  that  a  thirst  for  absolute  power 
is  the  natural  disease  of  monarchy. 

Secondly. — That  the  commons,  by  being  appointed  for  tMt 
purpose,  are  either  wiser  or  more  worthy  of  confidence  than  txir 
crown. 

But  as  the  same  constitution  which  gives  the  commons  a 
power  to  check  the  king  by  withholding  the  supplies,  gives  after- 
wards the  king  a  power  to  check  the  commons,  by  empowering 
him  to  reject  their  other  bills ;  it  again  supposes  that  the  king 
is  wiser  than  those  whom  it  has  already  supposed  to  be  wiser 
than  him.  A  mere  absurdity  ! 

There  is  something  exceedingly  ridiculous  in  the  composition 
of  monarchy  ;  it  first  excludes  a  man  from  the  means  of  infor- 
mation, yet  empowers  him  to  act  in  cases  where  the  highest 
judgment  is  required.  The  state  of  a  king  shuts  him  from  the 
world,  yet  the  business  of  a  king  requires  him  to  know  it 
thoroughly  ;  wherefore  the  different  parts,  by  unnaturally  oo- 
posing  and  destroying  each  other,  prove  the  whole  character  to 
be  absurd  and  useless. 

Some  writers  have  explained  the  Encash  constitution  thus : 


COMMON   SENSE.  11 

the  king,  say  they,  is  one,  the  people  another  j  the  peers  are  a 
house  in  behalf  of  the  king ;  the  commons  in  behalf  of  the  peo- 
ple ;  but  this  hath  all  the  distinctions  of  a  house  divided  against 
itself ;  and  though  the  expressions  be  pleasantly  arranged,  yet 
when  examined  they  appear  idle  and  ambiguous ;  and  it  will 
always  happen,  that  the  nicest  construction  that  words  are  ca- 
pable of,  when  applied  to  the  description  of  something  which 
either  cannot  exist,  or  is  too  incomprehensible  to  be  within 
the  compass  of  description,  will  be  words  of  sound  only,  and 
though  they  may  amuse  the  ear,  they  cannot  inform  the  mind, 
for  this  explanation  includes  a  previous  question,  viz.:  How 
came  the  king  by  a  power  which  the  people  are  afraid  to  trust, 
ana  always  obliged  to  check  ?  Such  a  power  could  not  be  the 
pit  of  a  wise  people,  neither  can  any  power,  which  needs  check- 
^nf/,  be  from  God  ;  yet  the  provision  which  the  constitution 
makes,  supposes  such  a  power  to  exist. 

But  the  provision  is  unequal  to  the  task  ;  the  means  either 
cannot  or  will  not  accomplish  the  end ;  and  the  whole  affair  is 
&/elo  de  se;  for  as  the  greater  weight  will  always  carry  up  the 
less,  and  as  all  the  wheels  of  a  machine  are  put  in  motion  by 
one,  it  only  remains  to  know  which  power  in  the  constitu- 
tion has  the  most  weight,  for  that  will  govern ;  and  though  the 
others,  or  a  part  of  them  may  clog,  or,  as  the  phrase  is,  check 
the  rapidity  of  its  motion,  yet  so  long  as  they  cannot  stop  it,  their 
endeavors  will  be  ineffectual;  the  first  moving  power  will  at  last 
have  its  way,  and  what  it  wants  in  speed  is  supplied  by  time. 

That  the  crown  is  this  overbearing  part  in  the  English  con- 
stitution needs  not  be  mentioned,  and  that  it  derives  its  whole 
consequence  merely  from  being  the  giver  of  places  and  pen- 
sions is  self-evident,  wherefore,  though  we  have  been  wise 
enough  to  shut  and  lock  a  door  against  absolute  monarchy,  we 
at  the  same  time  have  been  foolish  enough  to  put  the  crown  in 
possession  of  the  key. 

The  prejudice  of  Englishmen,  in  favor  of  their  own  govern- 
ment, by  kings,  lords  and  commons,  arises  as  much  or  more 
from  national  pride  as  from  anything.  Individuals  are  und< m  I  >t- 
edly  safer  in  England  than  in  some  other  countries,  but  the  will 
of  the  king  is  as  much  the  law  of  the  land  in  Britain  as  in 
France,  with  this  difference,  that  instead  of  proceeding  directly 
from  his  mouth,  it  is  handed  to  the  people  under  the  formidable 
shape  of  an  act  of  parliament  For  the  fate  of  Charles  the 
First  hath  only  made  kings  more  subtle — not  more  iust 


12  COMMON  SENSE. 

Wherefore,  laying  aside  all  national  pride  and  prejudice  in 
favor  of  modes  and  forms,  the  plain  truth  is  that  it  is  wholly 
owing  to  the  constitution  of  the  people,  and  not  the  constitution 
of  the  government  that  the  crown  is  not  as  oppressive  in  England 
as  in  Turkey. 

An  inquiry  into  the  constitutional  errors  in  the  English  form 
of  government  is  at  this  time  highly  necessary;  for  as* we  are 
never  in  a  proper  condition  of  doing  justice  to  others,  while  we 
continue  under  the  influence  of  some  leading  partiality,  so 
neither  are  we  capable  of  doing  it  to  ourselves  while  we  remain 
fettered  by  any  obstinate  prejudice.  And  as  a  man,  who  is  at- 
tached to  a  prostitute,  is  unfitted  to  choose  or  judge  of  a  wife, 
so  any  prepossession  in  favor  of  a  rotten  constitution  of  govern- 
ment will  disable  us  from  discerning  a  good  one 


OF  MONARCHY  AND  HEREDITARY  SUCCESSION. 

MANKIND  being  originally  equals  in  the  order  of  creation,  the 
equality  could  only  be  destroyed  by  some  subsequent  circum- 
stance ;  the  distinctions  of  rich  and  poor,  may  in  a  great  mea- 
sure be  accounted  for,  and  that  without  having  recourse  to  the 
harsh  ill-sounding  names  of  avarice  and  oppression.  Oppression 
is  often  the  consequence,  but  seldom  or  never  the  means  of 
riches ;  and  though  avarice  will  preserve  a  man  from  being 
necessitously  poor,  it  generally  makes  him  too  timorous  to  be 
wealthy. 

But  there  is  another  and  greater  distinction  for  which  no 
truly  natural  or  religious  reason  can  be  assigned,  and  that  is 
the  distinction  of  men  into  kings  and  subjects.  Male  and  fe- 
male are  the  distinctions  of  nature,  good  and  bad,  the  distinc- 
tions of  heaven  ;  but  how  a  race  of  men  came  into  the  world  so 
exalted  above  the  rest,  and  distinguished  like  some  new  species, 
is  worth  inquiring  into,  and  whether  they  are  the  means  of 
happiness  or  of  misery  to  mankind. 

In  the  early  ages  of  the  world,  according  to  the  scripture 
chronology,  there  were  no  kings ;  the  consequence  of  which  was 
there  were  no  wars ;  it  is  the  pride  of  kings  which  throws  man- 
kind into  confusion.  Holland  without  a  king,  hath  enjoyed 
more  peace  for  the  last  century  than  any  of  the  monarchical 
governments  of  Europe.  Antiquity  favors  the  same  remark; 
for  the  quiet  and  rural  lives  of  the  first  patriarchs  have  a  happy 


COMMON  SENSE.  13 

something  in  them,  which  vanishes  when  we  oome  to  the  hi»- 

tory  of  Jewish  royalty. 

Government  by  kings  was  first  introduced  into  the  world 
by  Heathens,  from  whom  the  children  of  Israel  copied  the  cus- 
tom. It  was  the  most  prosperous  invention  that  was  ever  set 
on  foot  for  the  promotion  of  Idolatry.  The  heathen  paid  divine 
honors  to  their  deceased  kings,  and  the  Christian  world  hath 
improved  on  the  plan  by  doing  the  same  to  their  living  ones. 
How  impious  is  the  title  of  sacred  majesty  applied  to  a  worm, 
who  in  the  midst  of  his  splendor  is  crumbling  into  dust ! 

As  the  exalting  one  man  so  greatly  above  the  rest,  cannot  be 
justified  on  the  equal  rights  of  nature,  so  neither  can  it  be  de- 
fended on  the  authority  of  Scripture  ;  for  the  will  of  the  Al- 
mighty as  declared  by  Gideon,  and  the  prophet  Samuel,  ex- 
pressly disapproves  of  government  by  kings.  All  anti-mon- 
archical parts  of  Scripture,  have  been  very  smoothly  glossed 
over  in  monarchical  governments,  but  they  undoubtedly  merit 
the  attention  of  countries  which  have  their  governments  yet  to 
form.  Render  unto  Ccesar  the  things  which  are  Ccesar's,  is  the 
scripture  doctrine  of  courts,  yet  it  is  no  support  of  monarchical 
government,  for  the  Jews  at  that  time  were  without  a  king, 
and  in  a  state  of  vassalage  to  the  Komans. 

Near  three  thousand  years  passed  away  from  the  Mosaic  ac- 
count of  the  creation,  until  the  Jews,  under  the  national  delu- 
sion, requested  a  king.  Till  then  their  form  of  government 
(except  in  extraordinary  cases,  where  the  Almighty  interposed) 
was  a  kind  of  republic,  administered  by  a  judge  and  the  elders 
of  the  tribes.  Kings  they  had  none,  and  it  was  held  sinful  to 
acknowledge  any  being  under  that  title  but  the  Lord  of  Hosts. 
And  when  a  man  seriously  reflects  on  the  idolatrous  homage 
which  is  paid  to  the  persons  of  kings,  he  need  not  wonder 
that  the  Almighty,  ever  jealous  of  his  honor,  should  disap- 
prove a  form  of  government  which  so  impiously  invades  the 
prerogative  of  heaven. 

Monarchy  is  ranked  in  scripture  as  one  of  the  sins  of  the 
Jews,  for  which  a  curse  in  reserve  is  denounced  against  them. 
The  history  of  that  transaction  is  worth  attending  to. 

The  children  of  Israel  being  oppressed  by  the  Midianites, 
Gideon  marched  against  them  with  a  small  army,  and  victory, 
through  the  divine  interposition,  decided  in  his  favor.  The 
Jews,  elate  with  success,  and  attributing  it  to  the  generalship 
of  Gideon,  proposed  making  him  a  king,  saying,  Rule  thou  over 


14  COMMON   SENSE. 

us,  thou  and  thy  son,  and  thy  son1 8  son.  Here  was  temptation 
in  its  fullest  extent ;  not  a  kingdom  only,  but  an  hereditary 
one ;  but  Gideon  in  the  piety  of  his  soul  replied,  1  will  not 
rule  over  you,  neither  shall  my  son  rule  over  you,  THE  LORD 
SHALL  RULE  OVER  YOU.  Words  need  not  be  more  ex- 
plict ;  Gideon  doth  not  decline  the  honor,  but  denieth  their 
right  to  give  it ;  neither  doth  he  compliment  them  with  inventerl 
declarations  of  his  thanks,  but  in  the  positive  style  of  a  Prophet 
charges  them  with  disaffection  to  their  proper  Sovereign,  the 
King  of  heaven. 

About  one  hundred  years  after  this,  they  fell  again  into  the 
same  error.  The  hankering  which  the  Jews  had  for  the  idola- 
trous customs  of  the  Heathens  is  something  exceedingly  unac- 
countable; but  so  it  was,  that  laying  hold  of  the  misconduct  of 
Samuel's  two  sons,  who  were  intrusted  with  some  secular  con- 
cerns, they  came  in  an  abrupt  and  clamorous  manner  to  Samuel, 
saying,  Behold  thou  art  old,  and  thy  sons  walk  not  in  thy  ways, 
now  make  us  a  king  to  judge  us  like  all  the  other  nations.  And 
here  we  cannot  but  observe  that  their  motives  were  bad,  viz.: 
that  they  might  be  like  unto  other  nations,  i.e.,  the  Heathen: 
whereas  their  true  glory  lay  in  being  as  much  unlike  them  as 
possible.  But  the  thing  displeased  Samuel  when  they  said,  Give 
us  a  king  to  judge  us  ;  and  Samuel  prayed  unto  the  Lord,  and 
the  Lord  said  unto  Samuel,  Hearken  unto  the  voice  of  the  people 
in  all  that  they  say  unto  thee,  for  they  have  not  rejected  thee,  but 
they  have  rejected  me,  THAT  I  SHOULD  NOT  REIGN  OVER 
THEM.  According  to  all  the  works  which  they  have  done  since 
the  day  that  1  brought  them  up  out  of  Egypt,  even  unto  this  day; 
wherewith  they  have  forsaken  me,  and  served  other  Gods  ;  so  do 
t/tey  also  unto  thee.  Now  therefore  hetfrken  unto  tJieir  voice, 
howbeit,  protest  solemnly  unto  them  and  show  them  the  manner 
of  the  king  that  shall  reign  over  them,  i.e.:  not  of  any  particular 
king,  but  the  general  manner  of  the  kings  of  the  earth  whom 
Israel  was  so  eagerlv  copying  after.  And  notwithstanding  the 
great  distance  of  time  and  difference  of  manners,  the  character 
is  still  in  fashion.  And  Samuel  told  all  the  words  nf  the  Lord 
unto  the  people  that  asked  oj  him  a  king.  And  he  said,  This 
shall  be  the  manner  of  the  king  that  shall  reign  over  you;  he  will 
take  your  sons  and  appoint  tliem  >^r  himself,  for  his  chariots, 
and  to  be  his  horsemen,  and  some  shall  run  before  his  chariots 
(this  description  agrees  with  the  present  mode  of  impressing 
men),  and  he  will  appoint  him  captains  over  thousands)  and  cap- 


COMMON  SENSE.  15 

tains  over  fifties,  and  will  set  them  to  ear  his  ground  and  to  reoj. 
his  harvest,  and  to  make  his  instruments  of  war,  and  instru- 
ments of  his  chariots;  and  he  will  take  your  daughters  to  be 
confectionaries,  and  to  be  cooks  and  to  be  bakers  (this  describes 
the  expense  and  luxury  as  well  as  the  oppression  of  kings),  and 
he  will  take  your  fields  and  your  olive  yards,  even  the  lest  of 
them,  and  give  them  to  his  servants ;  and  he  will  take  the  tenth 
of  your  seed  and  of  your  vineyards,  and  give  them  to  his  officers 
and  to  his  servants  (by  which  we  see  that  bribery,  corruption, 
and  favoritism,  are  the  standing  vices  of  kings),  and  he  will  take 
the  tenth  of  your  men  servants,  and  your  maid  servants,  and 
your  goodliest  young  men,  and  your  asses,  and  put  them  to  his 
work  ;  and  he  will  take  the  tenth  of  your  sheep,  and  ye  shall  be 
his  servants,  and  ye  shall  cry  out  in  that  day  because  of  your 
king  which  ye  shall  have  chosen.  AND  THE  LORD  WILL 
XOT  HEAR  YOU  IN  THAT  DAY.  This  accounts  for 
the  continuation  of  monarchy  ;  neither  do  the  characters  of  the 
few  good  kings  which  have  lived  since,  either  sanctify  the  title, 
or  blot  out  the  sinf ulness  of  the  origin :  the  high  encomium  given 
>f  David  takes  no  notice  of  him  officially  as  a  king,  but  only  as 
.1  man  after  God's  own  heart.  Nevertheless  the  people  refused  to 
obey  the  voice  of  Samuel,  and  they  said,  Nay,  but  we  will  have 
'i  king  over  us,  that  we  may  be  like  all  the  nations,  and  that  our 
king  may  judge  us,  and  go  out  bejore  us  and  fight  our  battles. 
Samuel  continued  to  reason  with  them  but  to  no  purpose ;  he 
set  before  them  their  ingratitude,  but  all  would  not  avail ;  and 
seeing  them  fully  bent  on  their  folly,  he  cried  out,  /  will  call 
unto  the  Lord,  and  he  shall  send  thunder  and  rain  (which  was 
then  a  punishment,  being  in  the  time  of  wheat  harvest),  that  ye 
may  perceive  and  see  that  your  wickedness  is  great  which  ye 
have  done  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord,  IN  ASKING  YOU  A 
KING.  So  Samuel  called  unto  the  Lord,  and  the  Lord  sent 
thunder  and  rain  that  day,  and  all  the  people  greatly  feared  the 
Lord  and  Samuel.  And  all  the  people  said  unto  Samuel,  Pray 
for  thy  servants  unto  the  Lord  thy  God  that  we  die  not,  for  WE 
HAVE  ADDED  UNTO  OUR  SINS  THIS  EVIL,  TO 
ASK  A  KING.  These  portions  of  scripture  are  direct  and 
positive.  They  admit  of  no  equivocal  construction.  That  the 
Almighty  hath  here  entered  his  protest  against  monarchial  gov- 
ernment is  true,  or  the  scripture  is  false.  And  a  man  hath 
good  reason  to  believe  that  there  is  as  much  of  kingcraft  as 
priestcraft  in  withholding  the  scripture  from  the  public  in 


16  COMMUJN    SENSE. 

Popish  countries.  For  monarchy  in  every  instance  is  the 
Popery  of  government. 

To  the  evil  of  monarchy  we  have  added  that  of  hereditary 
succession ;  and  as  the  first  is  a  degradation  and  lessening  of 
ourselves,  so  the  second,  claimed  as  a  matter  of  right,  is  an 
insult  and  imposition  on  posterity.  For  all  men  being  origin- 
ally equals,  no  one  by  birth,  could  have  a  right  to  set  up  his  own 
family,  in  perpetual  preference  to  all  others  for  ever,  and  though 
himself  might  deserve  some  decent  degree  of  honors  of  his 
cotemporaries,  yet  his  descendants  might  be  far  too  unworthy  to 
inherit  them.  One  of  the  strongest  natural  proofs  of  the  folly 
of  hereditary  right  in  kings,  is  that  nature  disapproves  it,  other- 
wise she  would  not  so  frequently  turn  it  into»ridicule,  by  giving 
mankind  an  Ass  for  a  Lion. 

Secondly,  as  no  man  at  first  could  possess  more  public  honon 
than  were  bestowed  upon  him,  so  the  givers  of  those  honors 
could  have  no  power  to  give  away  the  right  of  posterity,  and 
though  they  might  say,  "  We  choose  you  for  our  head,"  they 
could  not,  without  manifest  injustice  to  their  children,  say 
"that  your  children  and  your  children's  children  shall  reign 
over  ours  for  ever"  Because  such  an  unwise,  unjust,  unnatural 
compact  might  (perhaps)  in  the  next  succession  put  them  under 
the  goverment  of  a  rogue,  or  a  fool.  Most  wise  men  in  their 
private  sentiments  have  ever  treated  hereditary  right  with  con- 
tempt ;  yet  it  is  one  of  those  evils,  which  when  once  established 
is  not  easily  removed ;  many  submit  from  fear,  others  from 
superstition,  and  the  more  powerful  part  shares,  with  the  king, 
the  plunder  of  the  rest. 

This  is  supposing  the  present  race  of  kings  in  the  world  to 
have  had  an  honorable  origin;  whereas  it  is  more  than  probable, 
that  could  we  take  off  the  dark  covering  of  antiquity,  and  trace 
them  to  their  first  rise,  we  should  find  the  first  of  them  nothing 
better  than  the  principal  ruffian  of  some  restless  gang,  whose 
bdvage  manners  or  pre-eminence  in  subtlety  obtained  him  the 
title  of  chief  among  plunderers ;  and  who  by  increasing  in 
power,  and  extending  his  depredations,  overawed  the  quiet  and 
defenceless  to  purchase  their  safety  by  frequent  contributions. 
Yet  his  electors  could  have  no  idea  of  giving  hereditary  right 
to  his  descendants,  because  such  a  perpetual  exclusion  of 
themselves  was  incompatible  with  the  free  and  unrestrained 
principles  they  professed  to  live  by.  Wherefore,  hereditary 
succession  in  the  early  ages  of  monarchy  could  not 


COMMON  SENSE.  17 

as  a  matter  of  claim,  but  as  something  casual  or  complimental ; 
but  as  few  or  no  records  were  extant  in  those  days,  and  tradi- 
tionary history  stuffed  with  fables,  it  was  very  easy,  after  the 
lapse  of  a  few  generations,  to  trump  up  some  superstitious  tale, 
conveniently  timed  Mahomet  like,  to  cram  hereditary  rights 
down  the  throats  of  the  vulgar.  Perhaps  the  disorders  which 
threatened,  or  seemed  to  threaten,  on  the  decease  of  a  leader 
and  the  choice  of  a  new  one  (for  elections  among  ruffians  could 
not  be  very  orderly)  induced  many  at  first  to  favor  hereditary 
pretensions ;  by  which  means  it  happened,  as  it  hath  happened 
since,  that  what  at  first  was  submitted  to  as  a  convenience,  was 
afterwards  claimed  as  a  right. 

England,  since  the  conquest,  hath  known  some  few  good 
monarchs,  but  groaned  beneath  a  much  larger  number  of  bad 
ones ;  yet  no  man  in  his  senses  can  say  that  their  claim  under 
William  the  Conqueror  is  a  very  honorable  one.  A  French 
bastard  landing  with  an  armed  banditti,  and  establishing  himself 
king  of  England  against  the  consent  of  the  natives,  is  in  plain 
terms  a  very  paltry  rascally  original  It  certainly  hath  no 
divinity  in  it.  However,  it  is  needless  to  spend  much  time  in 
exposing  the  folly  of  hereditary  right;  if  there  are  any  so  weak 
as  to  believe  it,  let  them  promiscuously  worship  the  ass  and  the 
lion,  and  welcome.  I  shall  neither  copy  their  humility,  nor  dis- 
turb their  devotion. 

Yet  I  should  be  glad  to  ask  how  they  suppose  kings  came  at 
first  1  The  question  admits  but  of  three  answers,  viz.,  either  by 
lot,  by  election,  or  by  usurpation.  If  the  first' king  was  taken 
by  lot,  it  establishes  a  precedent  for  the  next,  which  excludes 
hereditary  succession,  Saul  was  by  lot,  yet  the  succession  was 
not  hereditary,  neither  does  it  appear  from  that  transaction  that 
there  was  any  intention  it  ever  should  be.  If  the  first  king  of 
any  country  was  by  election,  that  likewise  establishes  a  preced- 
ent tor  the  next ;  for  to  say,  that  the  right  of  all  future  genera- 
tions is  taken  away,  by  the  act  of  the  first  electors,  in  their 
choice  not  only  of  a  king,  but  of  a  family  of  kings  foreveri  hath 
no  parallel  in  or  out  of  scripture  but  the  doctrine  of  original  sin, 
which  supposes  the  free  will  of  all  men  lost  in  Adam ;  and  from 
such  comparison  and  it  will  admit  of  no  other,  hereditary  suc- 
cession can  derive  no  glory.  For  as  in  Adam  all  sinned,  and  as 
in  the  first  electors  all  men  obeyed ;  as  in  the  one  all  mankind  were 
subjected  to  Satan,  and  in  the  other  to  sovereignty ;  as  our 
innocence  was  lost  in  the  first,  and  our  authority  in  the  last;  and 


18  COMMON   SENSE. 

as  both  disable  us  from  re-assuming  some  former  state  and  privi- 
lege, it  unanswerably  follows  that  original  sin  and  hereditary 
succession  are  parallels.  Dishonorable  rank  !  Inglorious  con- 
nection !  Yet  the  most  subtle  sophist  cannot  produce  a  juster 
simile. 

As  to  usurpation,  no  man  will  be  so  hardy  as  to  defend  it  ; 
and  that  William  the  Conqueror  was  a  usurper  is  a  fact  not  to 
be  contradicted.  The  plain  truth  is,  that  the  antiquity  of  Eng- 
lish monarchy  will  not  bear  looking  into. 

But  it  is  not  so  much  the  absurdity  as  the  evil  of  hereditary 
succession  which  concerns  mankind.  Did  it  ensure  a  race  of 
good  and  wise  men  it  would  have  the  seal  of  divine  authority, 
but  as  it  opens  a  door  to  the  foolish,  the  wicked,  and  the  im- 
proper, it  hath  in  it  the  nature  of  oppression.  Men  who  look 
upon  themselves  born  to  reign,  and  others  to  obey  soon  grow 
insolent;  selected  from  the  rest  of  mankind  their  minds  are 
early  poisoned  by  importance;  and  the  world  they  act  in  differs 
so  materially  from  the  world  at  large,  that  they  have  but  little 
opportunity  of  knowing  its  true  interests,  and  when  they  suc- 
ceed to  the  government  are  frequently  the  most  ignorant  and 
unfit  of  any  throughout  the  dominions. 

Another  evil  which  attends  hereditary  succession  is,  that  the 
throne  is  subject  to  be  possessed  by  a  minor  at  any  age;  all' 
which  time  the  regency  acting  under  the  cover  of  a  king  have 
every  opportunity  and  inducement  to  betray  their  trust.  The 
same  national  misfortune  happens  when  a  king,  worn  out  with 
age  and  infirmity,  enters  the  last  stage  of  human  weakness.  In 
both  these  cases  the  public  becomes  the  prey  to  every  mis- 
creant who  can  tamper  successfully  with  the  follies  either  of 
age  or  infancy. 

The  most  plausible  plea,  which  hath  ever  been  offered  in 
favor  of  hereditary  succession,  is,  that  it  preserves  a  nation  from 
civil  wars  :  and  were  this  true,  it  would  be  weighty  ;  whereas, 
it  is  the  most  barefaced  falsity  ever  imposed  upon  mankind. 
The  whole  history  of  England  disowns  the  fact.  Thirty  kings 
and  two  minors  have  reigned  in  that  distracted  kingdom  since 
the  conquest,  in  which  time  there  have  been  (including  the 
revolution)  no  less  than  eight  civil  wars  and  nineteen  rebellions. 
Wherefore  instead  of  making  for  peace  it  makes  against  it,  and 
destroys  the  very  foundation  it  seems  to  stand  upon. 

The  content  for  monarchy  and  succession  between  the  houses 
of  York  and  Lancaster,  laid  England  in  a  scene  of  blood  for 


COMMON   SENSE.  19 

many  years.  Twelve  pitched  battles,  besides  skirmishes  and 
seiges,  were  fought  between  Henry  and  Edward ;  twice  was 
Henry  prisoner  to  Edward,  who  in  his  turn  was  prisoner  to 
Henry.  And  so  uncertain  is  the  fate  of  war  and  the  temper  of 
a  nation,  when  nothing  but  personal  matters  are  the  ground  of 
a  quarrel,  that  Henry  was  taken  in  triumph  from  a  prison  to  a 
palace,  and  Edward  obliged  to  fly  from  a  palace  to  a  foreign 
land ;  yet,  as  sudden  transitions  of  temper  are  seldom  lasting 
Henry  in  his  turn  was  driven  from  the  throne,  and  Edward 
recalled  to  succeed  him, — the  parliament  always  following  the 
strongest  side. 

This  contest  began  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Sixth,  and  was 
not  entirely  extinguished  till  Henry  the  Seventh,  in  whom  the 
families  were  united.  Including  a  period  of  67  years,  viz..  from 
1422  to  U89. 

In  short,  monarchy  and  succession  have  laid  (not  this  or  that 
kingdom  only,)  but  the  world  in  blood  and  ashes.  'Tis  a  form 
of  government  which  the  word  of  God  bears  testimony  against, 
and  blood  will  attend  it. 

If  we  inquire  into  the  business  of  a  king,  we  shall  find  (and 
in  some  countries  they  have  none)  that  after  sauntering  away 
their  lives  without  pleasure  to  themselves  or  advantage  to  the 
nation,  they  withdraw  from  the  scene,  and  leave  their  successors 
to  tread  the  same  useless  and  idle  round.  In  absolute  monar- 
chies the  whole  weight  of  business,  civil  and  military,  lies  on 
the  king;  the  children  of  Israel  in  their  request  for  a  king, 
urged  this  plea,  "  that  he  may  judge  us,  and  go  out  before  us 
and  fight  our  battles."  But  in  countries  where  he  is  neither  a 
judge  nor  a  general,  as  in  England,  a  man  would  be  puzzled  to 
know  what  is  his  business. 

The  nearer  any  government  approaches  to  a  republic,  the  less 
business  there  is  for  a  king.  It  is  somewhat  difficult  to  find  a 
proper  name  for  the  government  of  England.  Sir  William 
Meredith  calls  it  a  republic  ;  but  in  its  present  state  it  is 
unworthy  of  the  name,  because  the  corrupt  influence  of  the 
crown,  by  having  all  the  places  at  its  disposal,  hath  so  effectu- 
ally swallowed  up  the  power,  and  eaten  out  the  virtue  of  the 
house  of  commons  (the  republican  part  in  the  constitution)  that 
the  government  of  England  is  nearly  as  monarchical  as  that  of 
France  or  Spain.  Men  fall  out  with  names  without  under- 
standing them.  For  it  is  the  republican  and  not  the  monarchi- 
cal part  of  the  constitution  of  England  which  Englishmen  glory 


20  COMMON   SENSE. 

in,  viz.,  the  liberty  of  choosing  a  house  of  commons  from  ont  of 
their  own  body — and  it  is  easy  to  see  that  when  republican 
virtue  fails,  slavery  ensues.  Why  is  the  constitution  of  Eng- 
land sickly,  but  because  monarchy  hath  poisoned  the  republic, 
the  crown  hath  engrossed  the  commons. 

In  England  a  king  hath  little  more  to  do  than  to  make  war 
and  give  away  places ;  which,  in  plain  terms,  is  to  impoverish 
the  nation,  and  set  it  together  by  the  ears.  A  pretty  business 
indeed  for  a  man  to  be  allowed  eight  hundred  thousand  sterling 
a  year  for,  and  worshipped  into  the  bargain !  Of  more  worth 
is  one  honest  man  to  society,  and  in  the  sight  of  God,  than  all 
the  crowned  ruffians  that  ever  lived. 


THOUGHTS  ON   THE 

PRESENT  STATE  OF  THE  AMERICAN  AFFAIRS. 

IN  the  following  pages  I  offer  nothing  more  than  simple 
facts,  plain  arguments,  and  common  sense ;  and  have  no  other 
preliminaries  to  settle  with  the  reader,  than  that  he  will  divest 
himself  of  prejudice  and  prepossession,  and  suffer  his  reason  and 
his  feelings  to  determine  for  themselves ;  that  he  will  put  on, 
or  rather  that  he  will  not  put  o^the  true  character  of  a  man, 
and  generously  enlarge  his  views  beyond  the  present  day. 

Volumes  have  been  written  on  the  subject  of  the  struggle 
between  England  and  America.  Men  of  all  ranks  have  em- 
barked in  the  controversy,  from  different  motives,  and  with 
various  designs ;  but  all  have  been  ineffectual,  and  the  period 
of  debate  is  closed.  Arms,  as  the  last  resource  must  decide  the 
contest ;  the  appeal  was  the  choice  of  the  king,  and  the  conti- 
nent hath  accepted  the  challenge. 

It  has  been  reported  of  the  late  Mr.  Pelham  (who,  though  an 
able  minister  was  not  without  his  faults)  that  on  his  being 
attacked  in  the  House  of  Commons,  on  the  score  that  his  mea- 
sures were  only  of  a  temporary  kind,  replied,  "they  will  last 
my  time."  Should  a  thought  so  fatal  or  unmanly  possess  the 
colonies  in  the  present  contest,  the  name  of  ancestors  will  be 
remembered  by  future  generations  with  detestation. 

The  sun  never  shone  on  a  cause  of  greater  worth.  'Tis  not 
the  affair  of  a  city,  a  county,  a  province,  or  a  kingdom,  but  of 
a  continent — of  at  least  one-eighth  part  of  the  habitable  globe. 


COMMON  SENSE.  21 

Tis  not  the  concern  of  a  day,  a  year,  or  an  age ;  posterity  are 
virtually  involved  in  the  contest,  and  will  be  more  or  less 
affected  even  to  the  end  of  time,  by  the  proceedings  now.  Now 
is  the  seed-time  of  continental  union,  faith  and  honor.  The 
least  fracture  now  will  be  like  a  name  engraved  with  the  point 
of  a  pin  on  the  tender  rind  of  a  young  oak ;  the  wound  will 
enlarge  with  the  tree,  and  posterity  read  it  in  full  grown  char- 
acters. 

By  referring  the  matter  from  argument  to  arms,  a  new  area 
for  politics  is  struck ;  a  new  method  of  thinking  hath  arisen. 
All  plans,  proposals,  etc.,  prior  to  the  nineteenth  of  April,  i.e., 
to  the  commencement  of  hostilities,  are  like  the  almanacs  of 
last  year ;  which,  though  proper  then,  are  superseded  and  use- 
less now.  Whatever  was  advanced  by  the  advocates  on  either 
side  -of  the  question  then,  terminated  in  one  and  the  same  point, 
viz.,  a  union  with  Great  Britain ;  the  only  difference  between 
the  parties  was  the  method  of  effecting  it ;  the  one  proposing 
force,  the  other  friendship  ;  but  it  hath  so  far  happened  that 
the  first  has  failed,  and  the  second  has  withdrawn  her  influence. 

As  much  hath  been  said  of  the  advantages  of  reconciliation, 
which,  like  an  agreeable  dream,  hath  passed  away  and  left  us  as 
we  were,  it  is  but  right  that  we  should  examine  the  contrary 
side  of  the  argument,  and  inquire  into  some  of  the  many 
material  injuries  which  these  colonies  sustain,  and  always  will 
sustain,  by  being  connected  with  and  dependent  on  Great 
Britain.  To  examine  that  connection  and  dependence,  on  the 
principles  of  nature  and  common  sense,  to  see  what  we  have  to 
trust  to,  if  separated,  and  what  we  are  to  expect,  if  dependent. 

I  have  heard  it  asserted  by  some  that  as  America  has  flour- 
ished under  her  former  connexion  with  Great  Britain,  the  same 
connexion  is  necessary  towards  her  future  happiness,  and  will 
always  have  the  same  effect.  Nothing  can  be  more  fallacious 
than  this  kind  of  argument.  We  may  as  well  assert  that  because 
a  child  has  thrived  upon  milk,  that  it  is  never  to  have  meat,  or 
that  the  first  twenty  years  of  our  lives  is  to  become  a  precedent 
for  the  next  twenty.  But  even  this  is  admitting  more  than  is 
true,  for  I  answer  roundly,  that  America  would  have  flourished 
as  much,  and  probably  much  more,  had  no  European  power  had 
any  thing  to  do  with  her.  The  articles  of  commerce,  by  which 
she  has  enriched  herself,  are  the  necessaries  of  life,  and  will 
always  have  a  market  while  eating  is  the  custom  of  Europe.  . 

But  she  has  protected  us,  say  some.     That  she  hath  engrossed 


22  COMMON   SENSE. 

us  is  true,  and  defended  the  continent  at  our  expense  as  "well  as 
her  own,  is  admitted,  and  she  would  have  defended  Turkey  from 
the  same  motives,  viz.,  for  the  sake  of  trade  and  dominion. 

Alas!  we  have  been  long  led  away  by  ancient  prejudices,  and 
made  large  sacrifices  to  superstition.  We  have  boasted  the 
protection  of  Great  Britain,  without  considering  that  her  motive 
was  interest,  not  attachment ;  and  that  she  did  not  protect  us 
from  our  enemies  on  our  account,  but  from  her  enemies  on  her 
own  account,  from  those  who  had  no  quarrel  with  us  on  any 
other  account,  and  who  will  always  be  our  enemies  on  the  same 
account.  Let  Britain  waive  her  pretentions  to  the  continent,  or 
the  continent  throw  off  the  dependence,  and  we  should  be  at 
peace  with  France  and  Spain,  were  they  at  war  with  Britain. 
The  miseries  of  Hanover  last  war  ought  to  warn  us  against 
connexions. 

It  hath  lately  been  asserted  in  parliament,  that  the  colonies 
have  no  relation  to  each  other  but  through  the  parent  country, 
i.e.,  that  Pennsylvania  and  the  Jerseys,  and  so  on  for  the  rest, 
are  sister  colonies  by  way  of  England  ;  that  is  certainly  a  very 
round-about  way  of  proving  relationship,  but  it  is  the  nearest 
and  only  true  way  of  proving  enemyship,  if  I  may  so  call  it. 
France  and  Spain  never  were,  nor  perhaps  ever  will  be,  our 
enemies  as  Americans,  but  as  our  being  the  subjects  of  Great 
Britain. 

But  Britain  is  the  parent  country  say  some.  Then  the  more 
shame  upon  her  conduct.  Even  brutes  do  not  devour  their 
young,  nor  savages  make  war  upon  their  families ;  wherefore, 
the  assertion,  if  true,  turns  to  her  reproach ;  but  it  happens  not 
to  be  true,  or  only  partly  so,  and  the  phrase  parent  or  mother 
country  hath  been  jesuitically  adopted  by  the  king  and  his 
parasites,  with  a  low  papistical  design  of  gaining  an  unfair  bias 
on  the  credulous  weakness  of  our  minds.  Europe,  and  not 
England,  is  the  parent  country  of  America.  This  new  world 
hath  been  the  asylum  for  the  persecuted  lovers  of  civil  and 
religious  liberty  from  every  part  of  Europe.  Hither  have  they 
fled,  not  from  the  tender  embraces  of  the  mother,  but  from  the 
cruelty  of  the  monster;  and  it  is  so  far  true  of  England,  that  the 
same  tyranny  which  drove  the  first  emigrants  from  home, 
pursues  their  descendants  still. 

In  this  extensive  quarter  of  the  globe,  we  forget  the  narrow 
limits  of  three  hundred  and  sixty  miles  (the  extent  of  England), 
and  carry  our  friendship  on  a  larger  scale;  we  claim  brother- 


COMMON   SENSE.  23 

hood  with  every  European  Christian,  and  triumph  in  the  gen- 
erosity of  the  sentiment. 

It  is  pleasant  to  observe  with  what  regular  gradations  we 
surmount  local  prejudices,  as  we  enlarge  our  acquaintance  with 
the  world.  A  man  born  in  any  town  in  England  divided  into 
parishes,  will  naturally  associate  with  most  of  his  fellow  pai'ish- 
ioners  (because  their  interest  in  many  cases  will  be  common),  and 
distinguish  him  by  the  name  of  neighbor;  if  he  meet  him  but 
a  few  miles  from  home,  he  drops  the  narrow  idea  of  a  street, 
and  salutes  him  by  the  name  of  townsman  ;  if  he  travel  out  of 
the  county,  and  meet  him  in  any  other,  he  forgets  the  minor 
divisons  of  street  and  town,  and  calls  him  countryman,  i.e., 
countyman;  but  if  in  their  foreign  excursions  they  should  associ- 
ate in  France  or  any  other  part  of  Europe,  their  local  remem- 
brance would  be  enlarged  into  that  of  Englishman.  And  by  a 
just  parity  of  reasoning,  all  Europeans  meeting  in  America,  or 
any  other  quarter  of  the  globe,  are  countrymen  ;  for  England, 
Holland,  Germany,  or  Sweden,  when  compared  with  the  whole, 
stand  in  the  same  places  on  the  larger  scale,  which  the  divisions 
of  street,  town,  and  county  do  on  the  smaller  one ;  distinctions 
too  limited  for  continental  minds.  Not  one  third  of  the  in- 
habitants, even  of  this  province,  are  of  English  descent.  "W  here- 
fore,  I  reprobate  the  phrase  of  parent  or  mother  country, 
applied  to  England  only,  as  being  false,  selfish,  narrow  and 
ungenerous. 

But,  admitting  that  we  were  all  of  English  descent,  what  does 
it  amount  to  1  Nothing.  Britain  being  now  an  open  enemy, 
extinguishes  every  other  name  and  title  ;  and  to  say  that  recon- 
ciliation is  our  duty,  is  truly  farcical.  The  first  king  of  England, 
of  the  present  line  (William  the  Conqueror)  was  a  Frenchman, 
and  half  the  peers  of  England  are  descendants  from  the  same 
country  ;  wherefore,  by  the  same  method  of  reasoning,  England 
ought  to  be  governed  by  France. 

Much  hath  been  said  of  the  united  strength  of  Britain  and 
the  colonies,  that  in  conjunction  they  might  bid  defiance  to  the 
world.  But  this  is  mere  presumption;  the  fate  of  war  is  un- 
certain, neither  do  the  expressions  mean  anything ;  for  this 
continent  would  never  suffer  itself  to  be  drained  of  inhabitants 
to  support  the  British  arms  in  either  Asia,  Africa,  or  Europe. 

Besides,  what  have  we  to  do  with  setting  the  world  at  defi- 
ance ?  Our  plan  is  commerce,  and  that,  well  attended  to,  will 
secure  us  the  peace  and  frendship  of  all  Europe ;  because  it  is 


24  COMMON  SENSE. 

the  interest  of  all  Europe  to  have  America  a  free  port.  Her 
trade  will  always  be  a  protection,  and  her  barrenness  of  gold 
and  silver  secure  her  from  invaders. 

I  challenge  the  warmest  advocate  for  reconcilation  to  show 
a  single  advantage  that  this  continent  can  reap  by  being  con- 
nected with  Great  Britain.  I  repeat  the  challenge  ;  not  a  single 
advantage  is  derived.  Our  corn  will  fetch  its  price  in  any 
market  in  Europe,  and  our  imported  goods  must  be  paid  for,  buy 
them  where  we  will. 

But  the  injuries  and  disadvantages  which  we  sustain  by  that 
connexion  are  without  number  ;  and  our  duty  to  mankind  at 
large,  as  well  as  to  ourselves,  instructs  us  to  renounce  the 
alliance ;  because,  any  submission  to  or  dependence  on  Great 
Britain,  tends  directly  to  involve  this  continent  in  European 
wars  and  quarrels ;  and  sets  us  at  variance  with  nations,  who 
would  otherwise  seek  our  friendship,  and  against  whom  we 
have  neither  anger  nor  complaint.  As  Europe  is  our  market  for 
trade,  we  ought  to  form  no  partial  connexion  with  any  part  of 
it.  It  is  the  true  interest  of  America  to  steer  clear  of  European 
contentions,  which  she  never  can  do,  while,  by  her  dependence 
on  Britain,  she  is  made  the  make-weight  in  the  scale  of  British 
politics. 

Europe  is  too  thickly  planted  with  kingdoms  to  be  long  at 
peace,  and  whenever  a  war  breaks  out  between  England  and 
any  foreign  power,  the  trade  of  America  goes  to  ruin,  because  of 
her  connexion  with  Britain.  The  next  war  may  not  turn  out 
like  the  last,  and  should  it  not,  the  advocates  for  reconciliation 
now  will  be  wishing  for  separation  then,  because,  neutrality  in 
that  case,  would  be  a  safer  convoy  than  a  man  of  war.  Every 
thing  that  is  right  or  natural  pleads  for  separation.  The  blood 
of  the  slain,  the  weeping  voice  of  nature  cries,  'tis  time  to  part. 
Even  the  distance  at  which  the  Almighty  hath  placed  England 
and  America,  is  a  strong  and  natural  proof  that  the  authority 
of  the  one  over  the  other  was  never  the  design  of  heaven.  The 
time  likewise  at  which  the  continent  was  discovered  adds  weight 
to  the  argument,  and  the  manner  in  which  it  was  peopled  in- 
creases the  force  of  it.  The  reformation  was  preceded  by  the 
discovery  of  America,  as  if  the  Almighty  graciously  meant  to 
open  a  sanctuary  to  the  persecuted  in  future  years,  when  home 
should  afford  neither  friendship  nor  safety. 

The  authority  of  Great  Britain  over  this  continent,  is  a  form 
of  government  which  sooner  or  later  must  have  an  end  :  and  a 


COMMON   SENSE.  25 

serious  mind  can  draw  no  true  pleasure  by  looking  forward  under 
the  painful  and  positive  conviction,  that  what  he  calls  "the 
present  constitution,"  is  merely  temporary.  As  parents,  we  can 
have  no  joy,  knowing  that  this  government  is  not  sufficiently 
lasting  to  ensure  anything  which  we  may  bequeath  to  posterity ; 
and  by  a  plain  method  of  argument,  as  we  are  running  the  next 
generation  into  debt,  we  ought  to  do  the  work  of  it,  otherwise 
we  use  them  meanly  and  pitifully.  In  order  to  discover  the 
line  of  our  duty  rightly,  we  should  take  our  children  in  our 
hand,  and  fix  our  station  a  few  years  farther,  into  life  ;  that 
eminence  will  present  a  prospect  which  a  few  present  fears  and 
prejudices  conceal  from  our  sight. 

Though  I  would  carefully  avoid  giving  unnecessary  offence, 
yet  I  am  inclined  to  believe,  that  all  those  who  espouse  the  doc- 
trine of  reconciliation  may  be  included  within  the  following 
descriptions. 

Interested  men,  who  are  not  to  be  trusted ;  weak  men  who 
cannot  see;  prejudiced  men,  who  will  not  see;  and  a  certain  set 
of  moderate  men,  who  think  better  of  the  European  world  than 
it  deserves ;  and  this  last  class  by  an  ill-judged  deliberation, 
will  be  the  cause  of  more  calamities  to  this  continent  than  all 
the  other  three. 

It  is  the  good  fortune  of  many  to  live  distant  from  the  scene 
of  sorrow  ;  the  evil  is  not  sufficiently  brought  to  their  doors  to 
make  them  feel  the  precariousness  with  which  all  American 
property  is  possessed.  But  let  our  imaginations  transport  us  a 
few  moments  to  Boston ;  that  seat  of  wretchedness  will  teach 
us  wisdom,  and  instruct  us  forever  to  renounce  a  power  in  whom 
we  can  have  no  trust.  The  inhabitants  of  that  unfortunate 
city,  who  but  a  few  months  ago  were  in  ease  and  affluence,  have 
now  no  other  alternative  than  to  stay  and  starve,  or  turn  out 
to  beg.  Endangered  by  the  fire  of  their  friends  if  they  continue 
within  the  city,  and  plundered  by  the  soldiery  if  they  leave  it. 
In  their  present  situation  they  are  prisoners  without  the  hope 
of  redemption,  and  in  a  general  attack  for  their  relief,  they 
would  be  exposed  to  the  fuiy  of  both  armies. 

Men  of  passive  tempers  look  somewhat  lightly  over  the  ofiences 
of  Britain,  and  still  hoping  for  the  best,  are  apt  to  call  out, 
"  come,  come,  we  shall  be  friends  again,  for  all  this."  But 
examine  the  passions  and  feelings  of  mankind,  bring  the  doc- 
trine of  reconciliation  to  the  touchstone  of  nature,  and  then  tell 
me  whether  you  can  hereafter  love,  honor,  and  faithfully  serve 


26  COMMON   SENSE. 

the  power  that  hath  carried  fire  and  sword  into  your  land  ?  If 
you  cannot  do  all  these,  then  are  you  only  deceiving  yourselves, 
and  by  your  delay  bringing  ruin  upon  your  posterity.  Your 
future  connexion  with  Britain,  whom  you  can  neither  love  nor 
honor,  will  be  forced  and  unnatural,  and  being  formed  only  on 
the  plan  of  present  convenience,  will  in  a  little  time  fall  into  a 
relapse  more  wretched  than  the  first.  But  if  you  say  you  can 
still  pass  the  violations  over,  then  I  ask,  hath  your  house  been 
burnt  1  Hath  your  property  been  destroyed  before  your  face  1 
Are  your  wife  and  children  destitute  of  a  bed  to  lie  on,  or  bread 
to  live  on  ?  Have  you  lost  a  parent  or  a  child  by  their  hands, 
and  yourself  the  ruined  and  wretched  survivor  1  If  you  have 
not,  then  are  you  not  a  judge  of  those  who  have  1  But  if  you 
have,  and  can  still  shake  hands  with  the  murderers,  then  pre 
you  unworthy  the  name  of  husband,  father,  friend,  or  lover,  and 
whatever  may  be  your  rank  or  title  in  life,  you  have  the  heart 
of  a  coward  and  the  spirit  of  a  sycophant. 

This  is  not  inflaming  or  exaggerating  matters,  but  trying 
them  by  those  feelings  and  affections  which  nature  justifies,  and 
without  which  we  should  be  incapable  of  discharging  the  soc:al 
duties  of  life,  or  enjoying  the  felicities  of  it.  I  mean  not  to 
exhibit  horror  for  the  purpose  of  provoking  revenge,  but  to 
awaken  us  from  fatal  and  unmanly  slumbers,  that  we  may  pui- 
sne determinately  some  fixed  object.  It  is  not  in  the  power  of 
Britain  or  of  Europe  to  conquer  America,  if  she  does  not  con- 
quer herself  by  delay  and  timidity.  The  present  winter  is 
worth  an  age  if  rightly  employed,  but  if  lost  or  neglected  the 
whole  continent  will  partake  of  the  misfortune;  and  there  is  no 
punishment  which  that  man  will  not  deserve,  be  he  who,  or 
what,  or  where  he  will,  that  may  be  the  means  of  sacrificing  a 
season  so  precious  and  useful. 

It  is  repugnant  to  reason,  and  the  universal  order  of  things, 
to  all  examples  from  former  ages,  to  suppose  that  this  continent 
can  longer  remain  subject  to  any  external  power.  The  most 
sanguine  in  Britain  do  not  think  so.  The  utmost  stretch  of 
human  wisdom  cannot,  at  this  time,  compass  a  plan  short  of 
separation,  which  can  promise  the  continent  even  a  year's 
security.  Reconciliation  is  now  a  fallacious  dream.  Nature 
hath  deserted  the  connexion,  and  art  cannot  supply  her  place. 
For,  as  Milton  wisely  expresses,  "never  can  true  reconcile- 
ment grow,  where  wounds  of  deadly  hate  have  pierced  so 
deep." 


COMMON   SENSE.  27 

Every  quiet  method  for  peace  has  been  ineffectual.  Our  pray- 
ers have  been  rejected  with  disdain ;  and  only  tended  to  con- 
vince us  that  nothing  flatters  vanity,  or  confirms  obstinacy  in 
kings  more  than  repeated  petitioning — nothing  hath  contributed 
more  than  this  very  measure  to  make  the  kings  of  Europe  abso- 
lute :  witness  Denmark  and  Sweden.  Wherefore,  since  nothing 
but  blows  will  do,  for  God's  sake  let  us  come  to  a  final  separa- 
tion, and  not  leave  the  next  generation  to  be  cutting  throats, 
under  the  violated,  unmeaning  names  of  parent  and  child. 

To  say  they  will  never  attempt  it  again  is  idle  and  visionary ; 
we  thought  so  at  the  repeal  of  the  stamp  act,  yet  a  year  or  two 
undeceived  us :  as  well  may  we  suppose  that  nations,  which 
have  been  once  defeated  will  never  renew  the  quarrel. 

As  to  government  matters,  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  Britain 
to  do  this  continent  justice  :  the  business  of  it  will  soon  be  too 
weighty  and  intricate  to  be  managed  with  any  tolerable  degree 
of  convenience,  by  a  power  so  distant  from  us  and  so  very 
ignorant  of  us ;  for  if  they  cannot  conquer  us  they  cannot  gov- 
ern us.  To  be  always  running  three  or  four  thousand  miles 
with  a  tale  or  petition,  waiting  four  or  five  months  for  an 
answer,  which,  when  obtained,  requires  five  or  six  more  to 
explain  it  in,  will  in  a  few  years  be  looked  upon  as  folly  and 
childishness — there  was  a  time  when  it  was  proper,  and  there  is 
a  proper  time  for  it  to  cease. 

Small  islands,  not  capable  of  protecting  themselves,  are  the 
proper  objects  for  kings  to  take  under  their  care ;  but  there  is 
something  absurd,  in  supposing  a  continent  to  be  perpetually 
governed  by  an  island.  In  no  instance  hath  nature  made  the 
satellite  larger  than  its  primary  planet ;  and  as  England  and 
America,  with  respect  to  each  other,  reverse  the  common  order 
of  nature,  it  is  evident  that  they  belong  to  different  systems  : 
England  to  Europe — America  to  itself. 

I  am  not  induced  by  motives  of  pride,  party,  or  resentment, 
to  espouse  the  doctrine  of  separation  and  independence ;  I  am 
clearly,  positively,  and  conscientiously  persuaded  that  it  is  the 
true  interest  of  this  continent  to  be  so  ;  that  everything  short 
of  that  is  mere  patchwork;  that  it  can  afford  no  lasting  felicity 
— that  it  is  leaving  the  sw«rd  to  our  children,  and  shrinking 
back  at  a  time,  when  going  a  little  further  would  have  rendered 
this  continent  the  glory  of  the  earth. 

As  Britain  hath  not  manifested  the  least  inclination  towards 
a  compromise,  we  may  be  assured  that  no  terms  can  be  obtained 


COMMON  SENSE. 

worthy  the  acceptance  of  the  continent,  or  any  ways  equal  to 
the  expense  of  blood  and  treasure  we  have  been  already  put  to. 

The  object  contended  for  ought  always  to  bear  some  just  pro- 
portion to  the  expense.  The  removal  of  North,  or  the  whole 
detestable  junto,  is  a  matter  unworthy  the  millions  we  have 
expended.  A  temporary  stoppage  of  trade  was  an  inconveni- 
ence which  would  have  sufficiently  balanced  the  repeal  of  all  the 
acts  complained  of,  had  such  repeals  been  obtained  ;  but  if  the 
whole  continent  must  take  up  arms,  if  every  man  must  be  a 
soldier,  it  is  scarcely  worth  our  while  to  fight  against  a  con- 
temptible ministry  only.  Dearly,  dearly  do  we  pay  for  the 
repeal  of  the  acts,  if  that  is  all  we  fight  for  ;  for,  in  a  just  esti- 
mation it  is  as  great  a  folly  to  pay  a  Bunker-hill  price  for  law 
as  for  land.  I  have  always  considered  the  independency  of  this 
continent  as  an  event  which  sooner  or  later  must  take  place, 
and  from  the  late  rapid  progress  of  the  continent  to  maturity, 
the  event  cannot  be  far  off.  Wherefore,  on  the  breaking  out  of 
hostilities,  it  was  not  worth  the  while  to  have  disputed  a  matter 
which  time  would  have  finally  redressed,  unless  we  meant  to  be 
in  earnest ;  otherwise,  it  is  like  wasting  an  estate  on  a  suit  at 
law,  to  regulate  the  trespasses  of  a  tenant,  whose  lease  is  just 
expiring.  No  man  was  a  warmer  wisher  for  a  reconciliation  than 
myself,  before  the  fatal  nineteenth  of  April,  1775,*  but  the 
moment  the  event  of  that  day  was  made  known,  I  rejected  the 
hardened,  sullen-tempered  Pharaoh  of  England  forever ;  and 
disdain  the  wretch,  that  with  the  pretended  title  of  Father  of 
his  people,  can  unfeelingly  hear  of  their  slaughter,  and  compos- 
edly sleep  with  their  blood  upon  his  soul. 

But  admitting  that  matters  were  now  made  up,  what  would 
be  the  event  1  I  answer,  the  ruin  of  the  continent.  And  that 
for  several  reasons. 

1st,  The  powers  of  governing  still  remaining  in  the  hands  of 
the  king,  he  will  have  a  negative  over  the  whole  legislation 
of  this  continent.  And  as  he  hath  shown  himself  such  an  in- 
veterate enemy  to  liberty,  and  discovered  such  a  thirst  for 
arbitrary  power  :  is  he,  or  is  he  not,  a  proper  person  to  say  to 
these  colonies,  "  you  shall  make  no  laws  but  what  /  please  ?" 
And  is  there  any  inhabitant  of  America  so  ignorant  as  not  to 
know,  that  according  to  what  is  called  the  present  constitution, 
this  continent  can  make  no  laws  but  what  the  king  gives  leave 
to  ?  and  is  there  any  man  so  unwise  as  not  to  see,  that  (con- 

*  Massacre  at  Lexington. 


COMMON  SENSE.  29 

sidering  what  has  happened)  he  will  suffer  no  law  to  be  made 
here,  but  such  as  suits  his  purpose  ?  We  may  be  as  effectually 
enslaved  by  the  want  of  laws  in  America,  as  by  submitting  to 
laws  made  for  us  in  England.  After  matters  are  made  up  (as 
it  is  called)  can  there  be  any  doubt,  but  the  whole  power  of  the 
crown  will  be  exerted  to  keep  this  continent  as  low  and  hum- 
ble as  possible  ?  Instead  of  going  forward  we  shall  go  back- 
ward, or  be  perpetually  quarrelling,  or  ridiculously  petitioning. 
We  are  already  greater  than  the  king  wishes  us  to  be,  and  will 
he  not  hereafter  endeavor  to  make  us  less  ?  To  bring  the  mat- 
ter to  one  point, — Is  the  power  who  is  jealous  of  our  prosperity, 
a  proper  power  to  govern  us  1  Whoever  says  No  to  this  ques- 
tion, is  an  independent,  for  independency  means  no  more  than 
this,  whether  we  shall  make  our  own  laws,  or,  whether  the 
king,  the  greatest  enemy  which  this  continent  hath,  or  can 
have,  shall  tell  us,  "  there  shall  be  no  laws  but  such  as  1  like." 

But  the  king,  you  will  say,  has  a  negative  in  England ;  the 
people  there  can  make  no  laws  without  his  consent.  In  point 
of  right  and  good  order,  it  is  something  very  ridiculous,  that  a 
youth  of  twenty-one  (which  hath  often  happened)  shall  say  to 
several  millions  of  people,  older  and  wiser  than  himself,  I  for- 
bid this  or  that  act  of  yours  to  be  law.  But  in  this  place  I 
decline  this  sort  of  reply,  though  I  will  never  cease  to  expose 
the  absurdity  of  it ;  and  only  answer,  that  England  being  the 
king's  residence,  and  America  not,  makes  quite  another  case. 
The  king's  negative  here  is  ten  times  more  dangerous  and  fatal 
than  it  can  be  in  England ;  for  there  he  will  scarcely  refuse  his 
consent  to  a  bill  for  putting  England  into  as  strong  a  state  of 
defence  as  possible,  and  in  America  he  would  never  suffer  such 
a  bill  to  be  passed. 

America  is  only  a  secondary  object  in  the  system  of  British 
politics — England  consults  the  good  of  this  country  no  further 
then  it  answers  her  own  purpose.  Wherefore,  her  own  in- 
terest leads  her  to  suppress  the  growth  of  ours  in  every  case 
which  doth  not  promote  her  advantage,  or  in  the  least  interferes 
with  it.  A  pretty  state  we  should  soon  be  in  under  a  second- 
hand government,  considering  what  has  happened  !  Men  do 
not  change  from  enemies  to  friends,  by  the  alteration  of  a  name ; 
and  in  order  to  show  that  reconciliation  now  is  a  dangerous  doc- 
trine, I  affirm,  that  it  would  be  policy  in  the  king  at  this  lime, 
to  repeal  the  acts,  for  the  sake  of  reinstating  himself  in  the  govern- 
ment of  the  provinces;  in  order  that  he  may  accomplish  by  craft 


30  COMMON  SENSE, 

and  subtlety,  in  the  long  run,  what  he  cannot  do  by  force  in  tl* 
short  one.  Reconciliation  and  ruin  are  nearly  related. 

2nd,  That  as  even  the  best  terms,  which  we  can  expect  tc 
obtain,  can  amount  to  no  more  than  a  temporary  expedient,  or  a 
kind  of  government  by  guardianship,  which  can  last  no  longer 
than  till  the  colonies  come  of  age,  so  the  general  face  and  state 
of  things,  in  the  interim,  will  be  unsettled  and  unpromising. 
Emigrants  of  property  will  not  choose  to  come  to  a  country 
whose  form  of  government  hangs  but  by  a  thread,  and  which 
is  every  day  tottering  on  the  brink  of  commotion  and  disturb- 
ance ;  and  numbers  of  the  present  inhabitants  would  lay 
hold  of  the  interval  to  dispose  of  their  effects,  and  quit  the 
continent. 

But  the  most  powerful  of  all  arguments,  is,  that  nothing  but 
independence,  i  e.,  a  continental  form  of  government,  can  keep 
the  peace  of  the  continent  and  preserve  it  inviolate  from  civil 
wars.  I  dread  the  event  of  a  reconciliation  with  Britain  now, 
as  it  is  more  than  probable  that  it  will  be  followed  by  a  revolt 
somewhere  or  other,  the  consequences  of  which  may  be  far 
more  fatal  than  all  the  malice  of  Britain. 

Thousands  are  already  ruined  by  British  barbarity.  (Thou- 
sands more  will  probably  suffer  the  same  fate.)  Those  men 
have  other  feelings  than  us  who  have  nothing  suffered.  All 
they  now  possess  is  liberty,  what  they  before  enjoyed  is  sacri- 
ficed to  its  service,  and  having  nothing  more  to  lose,  they 
disdain  submission.  Besides, the  general  temper  of  the  colonies, 
towards  a  British  government,  will  be  like  that  of  a  youth  who 
is  nearly  out  of  his  time  ;  they  will  care  very  little  about  her. 
And  a  government  which  cannot  preserve  the  peace  is  no  gov- 
ernment at  all,  and  in  that  case  we  pay  our  money  for  nothing ; 
and  pray  what  is  it  Britain  can  do,  whose  power  will  be  wholly 
on  paper,  should  a  civil  tumult  break  out  the  very  day  after 
reconciliation  ?  I  have  heard  some  men  say,  many  of  whom  I 
believe  spoke  without  thinking,  that  they  dreaded  an  inde- 
pendence, fearing  that  it  would  produce  civil  wars.  It  is 
but  seldom  that  our  first  thoughts  are  truly  correct,  and  that  is 
the  case  here  ;  for  there  is  ten  times  more  to  dread  from  a 
patched  up  connexion  than  from  independence.  I  make  the 
suflerer's  case  my  own,  and  I  protest,  that  were  I  driven  from 
house  and  home,  my  property  destroyed,  and  my  circumstances 
ruined,  that  as  a  man,  sensible  of  injuries,  I  could  never  relish 
the  doc  trine  of  reconciliation,  or  consider  myself  bound  thereby. 


COMMON  SENSE.  81 

The  colonies  have  manifested  such  a  spirit  of  good  order  and 
obedience  to  continental  government,  as  is  sufficient  to  make 
every  reasonable  person  easy  and  happy  on  that  head.  No 
man  can  assign  the  least  pretense  for  his  fears,  on  any 
other  grounds,  than  such  as  are  truly  childish  and  ridicu- 
lous, viz.,  that  one  colony  will  be  striving  for  superiority  over 
another. 

Where  there  are  no  distinctions  there  can  be  no  superiority ; 
perfect  equality  affords  no  temptation.  The  republics  of  Europe 
are  all  (and  we  may  say  always)  in  peace.  Holland  and  Switz- 
erland are  without  wars,  foreign  or  domestic ;  monarchical  go- 
vernments, it  is  true,  are  never  long  at  rest :  the  crown  itself 
is  a  temptation  to  enterprising  ruffians  at  home ;  and  that  de- 
gree of  pride  and  insolence  ever  attendant  on  regal  authority, 
swells  into  a  rupture  with  foreign  powers,  in  instances  where  a 
republican  government,  by  being  formed  on  more  natural  prin- 
oiples,  would  negotiate  the  mistake. 

If  there  is  any  true  cause  of  fear  respecting  independence,  it 
is  because  no  plan  is  yet  laid  down.  Men  do  not  see  their  way 
-)ut,  wherefore,  as  an  opening  into  that  business,  I  offer  the 
following  hints ;  at  the  same  time  modestly  affirming,  that  I 
have  no  other  opinion  of  them  myself,  than  that  they  may  be 
the  means  of  giving  rise  to  something  better.  Could  the  strag- 
gling thoughts  of  individuals  be  collected,  they  would  frequently 
form  materials  for  wise  and  able  men  to  improve  into  useful 
matter. 

Let  the  assemblies  be  annual,  with  a  president  only.  The 
representation  more  equal.  Their  business  wholly  domestic, 
and  subject  to  the  authority  of  a  continental  congress. 

Let  each  colony  be  divided  into  six,  eight,  or  ten,  conven- 
ient districts,  each  district  to  send  a  proper  number  of  delegates 
to  congress,  so  that  each  colony  send  at  least  thirty.  The 
whole  number  in  Congress  will  be  at  least  three  hundred  and 
ninety.  Each  congress  to  sit and  to  choose  a  presi- 
dent by  the  following  method.  When  the  delegates  are  met, 
let  a  colony  be  taken  from  the  whole  thirteen  colonies  by  lot, 
after  which,  let  the  congress  choose  (by  ballot)  a  president  from 
out  of  the  delegates  of  that  province.  In  the  next  congress, 
let  a  colony  be  taken  by  lot  from  twelve  only,  omitting  that 
colony  from  which  the  president  was  taken  in  the  former  con- 
gress, and  so  proceeding  on  till  the  whole  thirteen  shall  have 
had  their  proper  rotation.  And  in  order  that  nothing  may 


32  COMMON   SENSE. 

pass  into  a  law  but  what  is  satisfactorily  just,  not  less  than 
three-fifths  of  the  Congress  to  be  called  a  majority.  He  that 
will  promote  discord,  under  a  government  so  equally  formed  as 
this,  would  have  joined  Lucifer  in  his  revolt. 

But  as  there  is  a  peculiar  delicacy,  from  whom,  or  in  what 
manner  this  business  must  first  arise,  and  as  it  seems  most 
agreeable  and  consistent  that  it  should  come  from  some  inter- 
mediate body  between  the  governed  and  the  governors,  that  is, 
between  the  congress  and  the  people,  let  a  Continental  Confer- 
ence be  held,  in  the  following  manner,  and  for  the  following 
purpose : 

A  committee  of  twenty-six  members  of  congress,  viz.,  two  for 
each  colony.  Two  members  from  each  house  of  assembly,  or 
provincial  convention ;  and  five  representatives  of  the  people 
at  large,  to  be  chosen  in  the  capital  city  or  town  of  each  pro- 
vince, for,  and  in  behalf  of  the  whole  province,  by  as  many 
qualified  voters  as  shall  think  proper  to  attend  from  all  parts 
of  the  province  for  that  purpose ;  or,  if  more  convenient,  the 
representatives  may  be  chosen  in  two  or  three  of  the  most  popu- 
lous parts  thereof.  In  this  conference,  thus  assembled,  will  be 
united,  the  two  grand  principles  of  business,  knowledge  and 
power.  The  members  of  congress,  assemblies,  or  conventions, 
by  having  had  experience  in  national  concerns,  will  be  able  and 
usetul  counsellors,  and  the  whole,  being  empowered  by  the  peo- 
ple, will  have  a  truly  legal  authority. 

The  conferring  members  being  met,  let  their  business  be  to 
frame  a  Continental  Charter,  or  Charter  of  the  United  Col- 
onies (answering  to  what  is  called  the  Magna  Charta  of  Eng- 
land) ;  fixing  the  number  and  manner  of  choosing  members  of 
Congress,  and  members  of  assembly,  with  their  date  of  sitting, 
and  drawing  the  line  of  business  and  jurisdiction  between  them 
(always  remembering  that  our  strength  is  continental,  not  pro- 
vincial) :  securing  freedom  and  property  to  all  men,  and  above 
all  things,  the  free  exercise  of  religion,  according  to  the  dictates 
of  conscience ;  with  such  other  matter  as  it  is  necessary  for  a 
charter  to  contain.  Immediately  after  which,  the  said  confer- 
ence to  dissolve,  and  the  bodies  which  shall  be  chosen  conform- 
able to  the  said  charter,  to  be  the  legislators  and  governors  of 
this  continent  for  the  time  being  :  whose  peace  and  happiness, 
may  God  preserve,  Amen. 

Should  any  body  of  men  be  hereafter  delegated  for  this  or 
some  similar  purpose,  I  offer  them  the  following  extracts  from 


COMMON  SENSE.  83 

that  wise  observer  on  governments,  Dragonetti.  "  The  science, " 
says  he,  "  of  the  politician  consists  in  fixing  the  true  point  of 
happiness  and  freedom.  Those  men  would  deserve  the  grati- 
tude of  ages,  who  should  discover  a  mode  of  government  that 
contained  the  greatest  sum  of  individual  happiness,  with  the 
least  national  expense." 

But  where,  say  some,  is  the  king  of  America  ?  I'll  tell  you, 
friend,  he  reigns  above,  and  .doth  not  make  havoc  of  mankind 
like  the  royal  brute  of  Britain.  Yet  that  we  may  not  appear 
to  be  defective  in  earthly  honors,  let  a  day  be  solemnly  set  apart 
for  proclaiming  "the  charter;  let  it  be  brought  forth  placed  on 
the  divine  law,  the  word  of  God  ;  let  a  crown  be  placed  thereon , 
by  which  the  world  may  know,  that  so  far  as  we  approve  of 
monarchy,  that  in  America  the  law  is  king.  For  as  in  absolute 
governments  the  king  is  law,  so  in  free  countries  the  law  ought 
to  be  king ;  and  there  ought  to  be  no  other.  But  lest  any  ill 
use  should  afterwards  arise,  let  the  crown  at  the  conclusion  of 
the  ceremony  be  demolished,  and  scattered  among  the  people 
whose  right  it  is. 

A  government  of  our  own  is  our  natural  right :  and  when  a 
man  seriously  reflects  on  the  precariousness  of  human  affairs, 
he  will  become  convinced  that  it  is  infinitely  wiser  and  safer  to 
form  a  constitution  of  our  own  in  a  cool  deliberate  manner, 
while  we  have  it  in  our  power,  than  to  trust  such  an  interesting 
event  to  time  and  chance.  If  we  omit  it  now,  some  Massanello 
may  hereafter  arise,  who,  laying  hold  of  popular  disquietudes, 
may  collect  together  the  desperate  and  the  discontented,  and  by 
assuming  to  themselves  the  powers  of  government,  finally  sweep 
away  the  liberties  of  the  continent  like  a  deluge.  Should  the 
government  of  America  return  again  into  the  hands  of  Britain, 
the  tottering  situation  of  things  will  be  a  temptation  for  some 
desperate  adventurer  to  try  his  fortune ;  and  in  such  a  case, 
what  relief  can  Britain  give  ?  Ere  she  could  hear  the  news,  the 
fatal  business  might  be  done ;  and  ourselves  suffering  like  the 
wretched  Britons  under  the  oppression  of  the  Conqueror.  Ye 
that  oppose  independence  now,  ye  know  not  what  ye  do ;  ye  are 
opening  a  door  to  eternal  tyranny,  by  keeping  vacant  the  seat 
of  government.  There  are  thousands,  and  tens  of  thousands, 
who  would  think  it  glorious  to  expel  from  the  continent,  that 
barbarous  and  hellish  power,  which  hath  stirred  up  the  Indians 
and  negroes  to  destroy  us — the  cruelty  hath  a  double  guilt,  it  is 
dealing  brutally  by  us,  and  treacherously  by  them. 


34  COMMON  SENSE. 

To  talk  of  friendship  with  those  in  whom  our  reason  forbids 
us  to  have  faith,  and  our  affections,  wounded  through  a  thou- 
sand pores,  instruct  us  to  detest,  is  madness  and  folly.  Every 
day  wears  out  the  little  remains  of  kindred  between  us  and 
them ;  and  can  there  be  any  reason  to  hope,  that  as  the  rela- 
tionship expires,  the  affection  will  increase,  or  that  we  shall 
agree  better  when  we  have  ten  times  more  and  greater  concerns 
to  quarrel  over  than  ever  ? 

Ye  that  tell  us  of  harmony  and  reconciliation,  can  ye  restore 
to  us  the  time  that  is  past  ?  Can  ye  give  to  prostitution  its  for- 
mer innocence  1  Neither  can  ye  reconcile  Britain  and  America. 
The  last  cord  now  is  broken,  the  people  of  England  are  pre- 
senting addresses  against  us.  There  are  injuries  which  nature 
cannot  forgive ;  she  would  cease  to  be  nature  if  she  did.  As 
well  can  the  lover  forgive  the  ravisher  of  his  mistress,  as  the 
continent  forgive  the  murders  of  Britain.  The  Almighty  hath 
implanted  within  us  these  unextinguishable  feelings,  for  good 
and  wise  purposes.  They  are  the  guardians  of  his  image  in  our 
hearts,  and  distinguish  us  from  the  herd  of  common  animals. 
The  social  compact  would  dissolve,  and  justice  be  extirpated 
from  the  earth,  or  have  only  a  casual  existence  were  we  callous 
to  the  touches  of  affection.  The  robber,  and  the  murderer, 
would  often  escape  unpunished,  did  not  the  injuries  which  our 
tempers  sustain,  provoke  us  into  justice. 

0  !  ye  that  love  mankind !  Ye  that  dare  oppose,  not  only 
the  tyranny,  but  the  tyrant,  stand  forth !  Every  spot  of  the 
old  world  is  overrun  with  oppression.  Freedom  hath  been 
hunted  round  the  globe.  Asia,  and  Africa,  have  long  expelled 
her.  Europe  regards  her  like  a  stranger,  and  England  hath 
given  her  warning  to  depart.  O  !  receive  the  fugitive,  and  pre- 
pare in  time  an  asylum  for  mankind. 


ON  THE  PRESENT  ABILITY  OF  AMERICA. 

WITH    SOME   MISCELLANEOUS   REFLECTIONS. 

I  HAVE  never  met  with  a  man,  either  in  England  or  America, 
who  hath  not  confessed  his  opinion,  that  a  separation  between 
the  countries  would  take  place  one  time  or  other;  and  there 
is  no  instance,  in  which  we  have  shown  less  judgment,  than  in 
endeavoring  to  describe,  what  we  call,  the  ripeness  or  fitness 
of  the  continent  for  independence. 


COMMON  SENSE.  35 

As  all  men  allow  the  measure,  and  vary  only  in  their  opinion  of  the 
time,  let  us  in  order  to  remove  mistakes,  take  a  general  survey  of 
things,  and  endeavor,  if  possible,  to  find  out  the  very  time.  But  we 
need  not  go  far,  the  inquiry  ceases  at  once,  for  the  time  hath  found  us. 
The  general  concurrence,  the  glorious  union  of  all  things  proves  the  fact. 

It  is  not  in  numbers,  but  in  unity,  that  our  great  strength 
lies;  yet  our  present  numbers  are  sufficient  to  repel  the  force 
of  all  the  world.  The  continent  hath  at  this  time,  the  largest 
body  of  armed  and  disciplined  men  of  any  power  under  heaven; 
and  is  just  arrived  at  that  pitch  of  strength,  in  which,  no  single 
colony  is  able  to  support  iiself,  and  the  whole,  when  united,  can 
accomplish  the  matter,  and  either  more,  or  less  than  this,  might 
be  fatal  in  its  effects.  Our  land  force  is  already  sufficient,  and 
as  to  naval  affairs,  we  cannot  be  insensible  that  Britain  would 
never  suffer  an  American  man-of-war  to  be  built  while  the  con- 
tinent remained  in  her  hands.  Wherefore,  we  should  be  no 
forwarder  an  hundred  years  hence  in  that  branch,  than  we  are 
now;  but  the  truth  is,  we  should  be  less  so,  because  the  timber 
of  the  country  is  every  day  diminishing,  and  that  which  will 
remain  at  last,  will  be  far  off  or  difficult  to  procure. 

Were  the  continent  crowded  with  inhabitants,  her  sufferings 
under  the  present  circumstances  would  be  intolerable.  The 
more  sea-port  towns  we  had,  the  more  should  we  have,  both  to 
defend  and  to  lose.  Our  present  numbers  are  so  happily  pro- 
portioned to  our  wants,  that  no  man  need  be  idle.  The  dimin- 
ution of  trade  affords  an  army,  and  the  necessities  of  an  army 
create  a  new  trade.  Debts  we  have  none,  and  whatever  we 
may  contract  on  this  account  will  serve  as  a  glorious  memento 
of  our  virtue.  Can  we  but  leave  posterity  with  a  settled  form 
of  government,  an  independent  constitution  of  its  own,  the  pur- 
chase at  any  price  will  be  cheap.  But  to  expend  millions  for 
the  sake  of  getting  a  few  vile  acts  repealed,  and  routing  the 
present  ministry  only,  is  unworthy  the  charge,  and  is  using  posterity 
with  the  utmost  cruelty  ;  because  it  is  leaving  them  the  great  work  to 
do,  and  a  debt  up^n  their  backs,  from  which  they  derive  no  advantage. 
Such  a  thought  is  unworthy  a  man  of  honor,  and  is  the  true  char- 
acteristic of  a  narrow  heart  and  a  peddling  politician. 

The  debt  we  may  contract  doth  not  deserve  our  regard,  if  the 
work  be  but  accomplished.  No  nation  ought  to  be  without  a 
debt.  A  national  debt  is  a  national  bond  ;  and  when  it  bears 


COMMON    SENSE. 


no  interest,  is  in  no  case  a  grievance.  Britain  is  oppressed 
with  a  debt  of  upwards  of  one  hundred  and  forty  millions  ster- 
ling, for  which  she  pays  upwards  of  four  millions  interest. 
And  as  a  compensation  for  her  debt  she  has  a  lar»».-  navy ; 
America  is  without  a  debt,  and  without  a  navy ;  yi-t  for  the 
twentieth  part  of  the  English  national  debt,  could  have*  a  navy 
as  large  again.  The  navy  of  England  is  not  worth,  at  thi.s  tinm, 
more  than  three  million  and  a  half  sterling. 

The  following  calculations  are  given  as  a  proof  that  the  above 
estimation  of  the  navy  is  a  just  one.  [See  Entick's  Naval  His- 
tory, Intro,  p.  56.J 

The  charge  of  building  a  ship  of  each  rate,  and  furnishing  her  with  masts, 
yards,  sails,  and  rigging,  together  with  a  proportion  of  eight  months  boat- 
swain's and  carpenter's  aea-stores,  as  calculated  by  Mr.  Burchett,  secretary 
to  the  navy : 

For  a  ship  of  100  guns £35,553 


29,886 

2-V.38 
17,785 
14,197 
10,606 
7,558 
5,846 
3,710 


And  hence  it  is  easy  to  sum  up  the  value,  or  cost,  rather,  of 
the  whole  British  navy,  which,  in  the  year  1757,  when  it  was 
at  its  greatest  glory,  consisted  of  the  following  ships  and  guns. 


Ship. 
6 
12 
12 
43 
35 
40 
45 
18 

Guns.              Cost  of  one. 
100    ...    £53,553 
90    ...      29,886 
.    .      8)    ...      23,638 
.      70    ...      17,785 
.      60    ...      14,197 
...      50    ...      10,605 
40    ...        7,558 
.     .      20    ...        3,710 

Cost  of  aU. 
£213,318 
358,632 
283,656 
764,755 
496,895 
424.240 
340.110 
215,180 

55 

Sloops,  bombs,  and) 
fireships,  one  with  V        2,000 
another,  at 
Cost         .    .     ... 

170,000 
3,266,786 

llemains  for  guns  .    . 
Total   . 

• 

• 

233,214 
£3,500,000 

No  country  on  the  globe  is  so  happily  situated,  or  so  inter- 
nally capable  of  raising  a  fleet  as  America.  Tar,  timber,  iron 
and  cordage  are  her  natural  produce.  We  need  go  abroad  for 


COMMON   SENSE.  .  37 

nothing.  Whereas,  the  Dutch,  who  make  large  profits  by  hiring 
out  their  ships  of  war  to  the  Spaniards  and  Portuguese,  are 
obliged  to  import  most  of  the  materials  they  use.  We  ought  to 
view  the  building  of  a  fleet  as  an  article  of  commerce,  it  being 
the  natural  manufacture  of  this  country.  It  is  the  best  money 
we  can  lay  out.  A  navy  when  finished  is  worth  more  than  it 
cost:  and  is  that  nice  point  in  national  policy,  in  which  com- 
merce and  protection  are  united.  Let  us  build;  if  we  want; them 
not,  we  can  sell;  and  by  that  means  replace  our  paper  currency 
with  ready  gold  and  silver. 

In  point  of  manning  a  fleet,  people  in  general  run  into  great 
errors;  it  is  not  necessary  that  one-fourth  part  should  be  sailors. 
The  privateer  Terrible,  Captain  Death,  stood  the  hottest  engage- 
ment of  any  ship  last  war,  yet  had  not  twenty  sailors  on  board, 
though  her  complement  of  men  was  upwards  of  two  hundred. 
A  few  able  and  social  sailors  will  soon  instruct  a  sufficient 
number  of  active  landsmen  in  the  common  work  of  a  ship. 
Wherefore,  we  never  can  be  more  capable  of  beginning  on  mari- 
time matters  than  now,  while  our  timber  is  standing,  our  fish- 
eries blocked  up,  and  our  sailors  and  shipwrights  out  of  employ. 
Men  of  war,  of  seventy  and  eighty  guns,  were  built  forty  years 
ago  in  New  England,  and  why  not  the  same  now  1  Ship  build- 
ing is  America's  greatest  pride,  and  in  which  she  will,  in  time, 
excel  the  world.  The  great  empires  of  the  east  are  mostly  in- 
land, and  consequently  excluded  from  the  possibility  of  rivalling 
her.  Africa  is  in  a  state  of  barbarism;  and  no  power  in  Europe 
hath  either  such  an  extent  of  coast,  or  such  an  internal  supply 
of  materials.  Where  nature  hath  given  the  one,  she  hath  with- 
held the  other ;  to  America  only  hath  she  been  liberal  of  both. 
The  vast  empire  of  Russia  is  almost  shut  out  from  the  sea ; 
wherefore,  her  boundless  forests,  her  tar,  iron,  and  cordage  are 
only  articles  of  commerce. 

In  point  of  safety,  ought  we  to  be  without  a  fleet  ?  We  are 
not  the  little  people  now,  which  we  were  sixty  years  ago ;  at 
that  time  we  might  have  trusted  our  property  in  the  streets,  or 
fields  rather  ;  and  slept  securely  without  locks  or  bolts  to  our 
doors  or  windows.  The  case  is  now  altered,  and  our  methods 
of  defence  ought  to  improve  with  our  increase  of  property.  A 
common  pirate,  twelve  months  ago,  might  have  come  up  the 
Delaware,  and  laid  this  city  under  contribution  for  what  sum 
he  pleased ;  and  the  same  might  have  happened  to  other  places. 
Nay,  any  daring  fellow,  in  a  brig  of  fourteen  or  sixteen  guns, 


38  COMMON   SENSE. 

might  have  robbed  the  whole  continent,  and  carried  ofi?  half  a 
million  of  money.  These  are  circumstances  which  demand  OUT 
attention,  and  point  out  the  necessity  of  naval  protection. 

Some  perhaps,  will  say,  that  after  we  have  made  it  up  with 
Britain,  she  will  protect  us.  Can  they  be  so  unwise  as  to  mean 
that  she  will  keep  a  navy  in  our  harbors  for  that  purpose  1 
Common  sense  will  tell  us,  that  the  power  which  hath  endea- 
vored- to  subdue  us,  is  of  all  others,  the  most  improper  to  defend 
us.  Conquest  may  be  effected  under  the  pretence  of  friendship : 
and  ourselves,  after  a  long  and  brave  resistance,  be  at  last 
cheated  into  slavery.  And  if  her  ships  are  not  to  be  admitted 
into  our  harbors,  I  would  ask,  how  is  she  to  protect  us?  A 
navy  three  or  four  thousand  miles  oft  can  be  of  little  use,  and 
on  sudden  emergencies,  none  at  all  Wherefore,  if  we  must 
hereafter  protect  ourselves,  why  not  do  it  for  ourselves?  Why 
do  it  for  another? 

The  English  list  of  ships  of  war  is  long  and  tormidable,  but 
not  a  tenth  part  of  them  are  at  any  one  time  fit  for  service, 
numbers  of  them  are  not  in  being  ;  yet  their  names  are  pomp- 
ously continued  in  the  list,  if  only  a  plank  be  left  of  the  ship  ; 
and  not  a  fifth  part  of  such  as  are  fit  for  service,  can  be  spared 
on  any  one  station  at  one  time.  The  East  and  West  Indies, 
Mediterranean,  Africa,  and  other  parts  of  the  world,  over  which 
Britain  extends  her  claim,  make  large  demands  upon  her  navy. 
From  a  mixture  of  prejudice  and  inattention,  we  have  con- 
tracted a  false  notion  respecting  the  navy  of  England,  and  have 
talked  as  if  we  should  have  the  whole  of  it  to  encounter  at  once, 
and  for  that  reason,  supposed  we  must  have  one  as  large  ;  which 
not  being  instantly  practicable,  has  been  made  use  of  by  a  set 
of  disguised  tories  to  discourage  our  beginning  thereon.  No- 
thing can  be  further  from  truth  than  this  ;  for  if  America  had 
only  a  twentieth  part  of  the  naval  force  of  Britain,  she  would 
be  by  far  an  over-match  for  her;  because,  as  we  neither  have 
nor  claim  any  foreign  dominion,  our  whole  force  would  be  em- 
ployed on  our  own  coast,  where  we  should,  in  the  long  run, 
have  two  to  one  the  advantage  of  those  who  had  three  or  four 
thousand  miles  to  sail  over,  before  they  could  attack  us,  and  the 
same  distance  to  return  in  order  to  refit  and  recruit.  And 
although  Britain,  by  her  fleet,  hath  a  check  over  our  trade  to 
Europe,  we  have  as  large  a  one  over  her  trade  to  the  West 
Indies,  which,  by  laying  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  continent, 
is  entirely  at  its  mercy. 


COMMON   SENSE.  39 

Some  method  might  be  fallen  on  to  keep  up  a  naval  force  in 
time  of  peace,  if  we  should  not  judge  it  necessary  to  support  a 
constant  navy.  If  premiums  were  to  be  given  to  merchants,  to 
build  and  employ  in  their  service,  ships  mounted  with  twenty, 
thirty,  forty,  or  fifty  guns  (the  premiums  to  be  in  proportion 
to  the  loss  of  bulk  to  the  merchants),  fifty  or  sixty  of  those 
ships  with  a  few  guardships  on  constant  duty,  would  keep  up  a 
sufficient  navy,  and  that  without  burdening  ourselves  with  the 
evil  so  loudly  complained  of  in  England,  of  suffering  their  fleet 
in  time  of  peace  to  lie  rotting  in  the  docks.  To  unite  the  sinews 
of  commerce  and  defence  is  sound  policy ;  for  when  our  strength 
and  our  riches  play  into  each  other's  hand,  we  need  fear  no  ex- 
ternal enemy. 

In  almost  every  article  of  defence  we  abound.  Hemp 
flourishes  even  to  rankness,  so  that  we  need  not  want  cordage. 
Our  iron  is  superior  to  that  of  other  countries.  Our  small  arms 
are  equal  to  any  in  the  world.  Cannon  we  can  cast  at  pleasure. 
Saltpetre  and  gunpowder  we  are  every  day  producing.  Our 
knowledge  is  hourly  improving.  Resolution  is  our  inherent 
character,  and  courage  hath  never  yet  forsaken  us.  Wherefore, 
what  is  it  that  we  want  ?  Why  is  it  that  we  hesitate  ?  From 
Britain  we  can  expect  nothing  but  ruin.  If  she  is  once  admit- 
ted to  the  government  of  America  again,  this  continent  will  not 
be  worth  living  in.  Jealousies  will  be  always  arising,  insur- 
rections will  be  constantly  happening ;  and  who  will  go  forth 
to  quell  them  1  Who  will  venture  his  life  to  reduce  his  own 
countrymen  to  a  foreign  obedience1?  The  difference  between 
Pennsylvania  and  Connecticut,  respecting  some  unlocated  lands, 
shows  the  insignificance  of  a  British  government,  and  fully 
proves  that  nothing  but  continental  authority  can  regulate  con- 
tinental matters. 

Another  reason  why  the  present  time  is  preferable  to  all 
others,  is,  that  the  fewer  our  numbers  are,  the  more  land  there 
is  yet  unoccupied,  which,  instead  of  being  lavished  by  the  king 
on  his  worthless  dependants,  may  be  hereafter  applied,  not 
only  to  the  discharge  of  the  present  debt,  but  to  the  constant 
support  of  government.  No  nation  under  heaven  hath  such  an 
advantage  as  this. 

The  infant  state  of  the  colonies,  as  it  is  called,  so  far  from 
being  against,  is  an  argument  in  favor  of  independence.  We 
are  sufficiently  numerous,  and  were  we  more  so  we  might  be 
less  united.  It  is  a  matter  worthy  of  observation,  that  the 


40  COMMON    SENSE. 

more  a  country  is  peopled,  the  smaller  their  armies  are.  In 
military  numbers,  the  ancients  far  exceeded  the  moderns :  and 
the  reason  is  evident,  for  trade  being  the  consequence  of  popu- 
lation, men  become  too  much  absorbed  thereby  to  attend  to  any- 
thing efse.  Commerce  diminishes  the  spirit  both  of  patriotism 
and  military  defence.  And  history  sufficiently  informs  us,  that 
the  bravest  achievements  were  always  accomplished  in  the  non- 
age of  a  nation.  "With  the  increase  of  commerce  England  hath 
lost  its  spirit.  The  city  of  London,  notwithstanding  its  num- 
bers, submits  to  continued  insults  with  the  patience  of  a  coward. 
The  more  men  have  to  lose,  the  less  willing  are  they  to  venture. 
The  rich  are  in  general  slaves  to  fear,  and  submit  to  courtly 
power  with  the  trembling  duplicity  of  a  spaniel. 

Youth  is  the  seed-time  of  good  habits,  as  well  in  nations  as 
in  individuals.  It  might  be  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  form 
the  continent  into  one  government  half  a  century  hence.  The 
vast  variety  of  interests,  occasioned  by  an  increase  of  trade  and 
population,  would  create  confusion.  Colony  would  be  against 
colony.  Each  being  able,  might  scorn  each  other's  assistance  : 
and  while  the  proud  and  foolish  gloried  in  their  little  distinc- 
tions, the  wise  would  lament  that  the  union  had  not  been  formed 
before.  Wherefore  the  present  time  is  the  true  time  for  estab- 
lishing it.  The  intimacy  which  is  contracted  in  infancy,  and 
the  friendship  which  is  formed  in  misfortune,  are,  of  all  others, 
the  most  lasting  and  unalterable.  Our  present  union  is  marked 
with  both  these  characters;  we  are  young,  and  we  have  been 
distressed;  but  our  concord  hath  withstood  our  troubles  and 
fixes  a  memorable  era  for  posterity  to  glory  in. 

The  present  time,  likewise,  is  that  peculiar  time  which  never 
happens  to  a  nation  but  once,  viz.,  the  time  of  forming  itself 
into  a  government.  Most  nations  have  let  slip  the  opportunity, 
and  by  that  means  have  been  compelled  to  receive  laws  from 
their  conquerors,  instead  of  making  laws  for  themselves  First, 
they  had  a  king,  and  then  a  form  of  government;  whereas  the 
articles  or  charter  of  government  should  be  formed  first,  and 
men  delegated  to  execute  them  afterwards :  but  from  the  errors 
of  other  nations  let  us  learn  wisdom,  and  lay  hold  of  the  present 
opportunity — to  begin  government  at  the  right  end. 

When  William  the  Conqueror  subdued  England,  he  gave  them 
law  at  the  point  of  the  sword ;  and  until  we  consent  that  the 
seat  of  government  in  America  be  legally  and  authoritatively  oc- 
cupied, we  shall  be  in  danger  of  having  it  filled  by  some  fortu- 


COMMON   SENSE.  41 

nate  ruffian,  who  may  treat  us  in  the  same  manner,  and  then, 
where  will  be  our  freedom  1  where  our  property  1 

As  to  religion,  I  hold  it  to  be  the  indispensable  duty  of  all 
governments  to  protect  all  conscientious  pr  lessors  thereof,  and 
I  know  of  no  other  business  which  government  hath  to  do  there- 
with. Let  a  man  throw  aside  that  narrowness  of  soul,  that  sel- 
fishness of  principle,  which  the  niggards  of  all  professions  are  so 
unwilling  to  part  with,  and  he  will  be  at  once  delivered  of  his 
fears  on  that  head.  Suspicion  is  the  companion  of  mean  souls, 
and  the  bane  of  all  good  society.  For  myself,  I  fully  and  con- 
scientiously believe,  that  it  is  the  will  of  the  Almighty  that 
there  should  be  a  diversity  of  religious  opinions  among  us  :  it 
affords  a  larger  field  for  our  Christian  kindness.  Were  we  all 
of  one  way  of  thinking,  our  religious  dispositions  would  want 
matter  for  probation;  and  on  this  liberal  principle,  I  look  on 
the  various  denominations  amongst  us,  to  be  like  children  of 
the  same  family,  differing  only  in  what  is  called  their  Christian 
names. 

In  a  former  page,  I  threw  out  a  few  thoughts  on  the  pro- 
priety of  a  Continental  Charter  (for  I  only  presume  to  offer 
hints,  not  plans),  and  in  this  place  I  take  the  liberty  of  re- 
nientioiiing  the  subject,  by  observing  that  a  charter  is  to  be 
understood  as  a  bond  of  solemn  obligation,  which  the  whole 
enters  into,  to  suppoi-t  the  right  of  every  separate  part,  whether 
of  religion,  personal  freedom,  or  property.  A  firm  bargain  and 
a  right  reckoning  make  long  friends. 

1  have  heretofore  likewise  mentioned  the  necessity  of  a  large 
and  equal  representation ;  and  there  is  no  political  matter  which 
more  deserves  our  attention.  A  small  number  of  electors,  or  a 
small  number  of  representatives,  are  equally  dangerous.  But 
if  the  number  of  the  representatives  be  not  only  small,  but 
unequal,  the  danger  is  increased.  As  an  instance  of  this  I  men- 
tion the  following :  when  the  associators'  petition  was  before  the 
house  of  assembly  of  Pennsylvania,  twenty -eight  members  only 
were  present;  all  the  Bucks  county  members,  being  eight,  voted 
against  it,  and  had  seven  of  the  Chester  members  done  the 
same,  this  whole  province  had  been  governed  by  two  counties 
only  ;  and  this  danger  it  is  always  exposed  to.  The  unwarrant- 
able stretch  likewise,  which  that  house  made  in  their  last 
sitting,  to  gain  an  undue  authority  over  the  delegates  of  this 
province,  ought  to  warn  the  people  at  large,  how  they  trust 
power  out  of  their  own  hands.  A  set  of  instructions  for  their 


42  COMMON   SENSE. 


delegates  were  put  together,  which  in  point  of  sense  and  busi- 
ness would  have  dishonored  a  school-boy,  and  after  being 
approved  by  SL  few,  a  very  few,  without  doors,  were  carried  into 
the  house,  and  there  passed  in  behalf  of  the  whole  colony  ; 
whereas,  did  the  whole  colony  know  with  what  ill-will  that 
house  had  entered  on  some  necessary  public  measures,  they 
would  not  hesitate  a  moment  to  think  them  unworthy  of  such  a 
trust. 

Immediate  necessity  makes  many  things  convenient,  which 
if  continued  would  grow  into  oppressions.  Expedience  and 
right  are  different  things.  When  the  calamities  of  America 
required  a  consultation,  there  was  no  method  so  ready,  or  at  that 
time  so  proper,  as  to  appoint  persons  from  the  several  houses  of 
assembly  for  that  purpose ;  and  the  wisdom  with  which  they 
have  proceeded  hath  preserved  this  continent  from  ruin.  But 
as  it  is  more  than  probable  that  we  shall  never  be  without  a 
Congress,  every  well-wisher  to  good  order  must  own  that  the 
mode  for  choosing  members  of  that  body  deserves  consideration. 
And  I  put  it  as  a  question  to  those  who  make  a  study  of  man- 
kind, whether  representation  and  election  is  not  too  great  a 
power  for  one  and  the  same  body  of  men  to  possess?  When- 
ever we  are  planning  for  posterity,  we  ought  to  remember  that 
virtue  is  not  hereditary. 

It  is  from  our  enemies  that  we  often  gain  excellent  maxims, 
and  are  frequently  surprised  into  reason  by  their  mistakes. 
Mr.  Cornwall  (one  of  the  lords  of  the  treasury)  treated  the 
petition  of  the  New- York  assembly  with  contempt,  because  thai 
house,  he  said,  consisted  but  of  twenty-six  members,  which 
trifling  number,  he  argued,  could  not  with  decency  be  put  for 
the  whole.  We  thank  him  for  his  involuntary  honesty.* 

To  conclude.  However  strange  it  may  appear  to  some,  or 
however  unwilling  they  may  be  to  think  so,  matters  not,  but 
many  strong  and  striking  reasons  may  be  given,  to  show,  that 
nothing  can  settle  our  affairs  so  expeditiously  as  an  open  and 
determined  declaration  for  independence.  Some  of  which  are, 

1st,  It  is  the  custom  of  nations,  when  any  two  are  at  war,  for 
some  other  powers,  not  engaged  in  the  quarrel,  to  step  in  as 
mediators,  and  bring  about  the  preliminaries  of  a  peace ;  but 
while  America  calls  herself  the  subject  of  Britain,  no  power. 

*  Those  who  would  fully  understand  of  what  great  consequence  a  lar. 
and  equal  representation  is  to  a  state,  should  read  Burgh's  Political  Disqi. 

BitioDB. 


COMMON    SENSE.  4o 

however  well  disposed  she  may  be,  can  offer  her  mediation. 
Wherefore,  in  our  present  state,  we  may  quarrel  on  for  ever. 

2nd,  It  is  unreasonable  to  suppose,  that  France  or  Spain  will 
give  us  any  kind  of  assistance,  if  we  mean  only  to  make  use  of 
that  assistance  for  the  pui'pose  of  repairing  the  breach  and 
strengthening  the  connexion  between  Britain  and  America ; 
because,  those  powers  would  be  sufferers  by  the  consequences. 

3rd,  While  we  profess  ourselves  the  subjects  of  Britain,  we 
must,  in  the  eyes  of  foreign  nations,  be  considered  as  rebels. 
The  precedent  is  somewhat  dangerous  to  their  peace,  for  men  to 
be  in  arms  under  the  name  of  subjects ;  we,  on  the  spot,  can 
solve  the  paradox :  but  to  unite  resistance  and  subjection, 
requires  an  idea  much  too  refined  for  common  understanding. 

4th,  Should  a  manifesto  be  published,  and  despatched  to 
foreign  courts,  setting  forth  the  miseries  we  have  endured,  and 
the  peaceful  methods  which  we  have  ineffectually  used  for 
redress ;  declaring  at  the  same  time,  that  not  being  able,  any 
longer,  to  live  happily  or  safely  under  the  cruel  disposition  of 
the  British  court,  we  had  been  driven  to  the  necessity  of 
breaking  off  all  connexion  with  her ;  at  the  same  time,  assuring 
all  such  courts  of  our  peaceable  disposition  towards  them,  and 
of  our  desire  of  entering  into  trade  with  them.  Such  a  memo- 
rial would  produce  more  good  effects  to  this  continent  than  if  a 
ship  were  freighted  with  petitions  to  Britain. 

Under  our  present  denomination  of  British  subjects,  we  can 
neither  be  received  nor  heard  abroad  :  the  custom  of  all  courts 
is  against  us,  and  will  be  so,  until,  by  an  independence,  we  take 
rank  with  other  nations. 

These  proceedings  may  at  first  appear  strange  and  difficult  ; 
but  like  all  other  steps  which  we  have  already  passed  over,  will 
in  a  little  time  become  familiar  and  agreeable  ;  and,  until  an 
independence  is  declared,  the  continent  will  feel  itself  like  a 
man  who  continues  putting  off"  some  unpleasant  business  from 
day  to  day,  yet  knows  it  must  be  done,  hates  to  set  about  it, 
wishes  it  over,  and  js  continually  haunted  with  the  thoughts  of 
its  necessity. 


COMMON   SENSE. 


APPENDIX. 


SINCE  the  publication  of  the  first  edition  of  this  pamphlet, 
or  rather,  on  the  same  day  on  which  it  came  out,  the  king's 
speech  made  its  appearance  in  this  city.  Had  the  spirit  of 
prophecy  directed  th«  birth  of  this  production,  it  could  not  have 
brought  it  forth  at  a  more  seasonable  juncture,  or  at  a  more 
necessary  time.  The  bloody-mindedness  of  the  one  shows  the 
necessity  of  pursuing  the  doctrine  of  the  other.  Men  read  by 
way  of  revenge: — and  the  speech,  instead  of  terrifying,  pre- 
pared a  way  for  the  manly  principles  of  independence. 

Ceremony,  and  even  silence,  from  whatever  motives  they  may 
arise,  have  a  hurtful  tendency  when  they  give  the  least  degree 
of  countenance  to  base  and  wicked  performances ;  wherefore,  if 
this  maxim  be  admitted,  it  naturally  follows,  that  the  king's 
speech,  as  being  a  piece  of  finished  villainy,  deserved  and  still 
deserves,  a  general  execration,  both  by  the  congress  and  the 
people.  Yet,  as  the  domestic  tranquillity  of  the  nation  depends 
greatly  on  the  chastity  of  what  may  properly  be  called  national 
manners,  it  is  often  better  to  pass  some  things  over  in  silent 
disdain,  than  to  make  use  of  such  new  methods  of  dislike  as 
might  introduce  the  least  innovation  on  that  guardian  of  our 
peace  and  safety.  And,  perhaps,  it  is  chiefly  owing  to  this 
prudent  delicacy,  that  the  king's  speech  hath  not  before  now 
suffered  a  public  execution.  The  speech,  if  it  may  be  called 
one,  is  nothing  better  than  a  wilful,  audacious  libel  against  the 
truth,  the  common  good,  and  the  existence  of  mankind ;  and  is 
a  formal  and  pompous  method  of  offering  up  human  sacrifices 
to  the  pride  of  tyrants.  But  this  general  massacre  of  mankind 
is  one  of  the  privileges  and  the  certain  consequences  of  kings ;  for 
as  nature  knows  them  not,  they  know  not  nature;  although  the; 
are  beings  of  our  own  creating,  they  know  not  us,  and  art-- 
become the  gods  of  their  creators.  The  speech  hath  one  good 
quality,  which  is,  that  it  is  not  calculated  to  deceive,  neither 
can  we,  if  we  would,  be  deceived  by  it.  Brutality  and  tyranny 
appear  on  the  face  of  it.  It  leaves  us  at  no  loss ;  and  every 
line  convinces,  even  in  the  moment  of  reading,  that  he  who 


COMMON  SENSE.  45 

hunts  the  woods  for  prey,  the  naked  and  untutored  Indian,  is 
less  savage  than  the  king  of  Britain. 

Sir  John  Dalrymple,  the  putative  father  of  a  whining  Jesu- 
itical piece,  fallaciously  called,  "The  address  of  the  people  of  Eng- 
land to  the  inhabitants  of  America,"  hath  perhaps,  from  a  vain 
supposition  that  the  people  here  were  to  be  frightened  at  the 
pomp  and  description  of  a  king,  given  (though  very  unwisely 
on  his  part)  the  real  character  of  the  present  one  :  "  But,"  says 
this  writer,  "if  you  are  inclined  to  pay  compliments  to  an  ad- 
ministration, which  we  do  not  complain  of "  (meaning  the 
Marquis  of  .Rockingham's  at  the  repeal  of  the  Stamp  Act)  "it 
is  very  unfair  in  you  to  withhold  them  from  that  prince  by 
whose  NOD  ALONE  they  were  permitted  to  do  anything."  This  is 
toryism  with  a  witness  !  Here  is  idolatry  even  without  a  mask, 
and  he  who  can  calmly  hear  and  digest  such  doctrine,  hath 
forfeited  his  claim  to  rationality ;  is  an  apostate  from  the  order 
of  manhood,  and  ought  to  be  considered — as  one.  who  hath  not 
only  given  up  the  proper  dignity  of  man,  but  sunk  himself  be- 
neath the  rank  of  animals,  and  contemptibly  crawls  through 
the  world  like  a  worm. 

However,  it  matters  very  little  now,  what  the  king  of  Eng- 
land either  says  or  does;  he  hath  wickedly  broken  through 
every  moral  and  human  obligation,  trampled  nature  and  con- 
science beneath  his  feet :  and  by  a  steady  and  constitutional 
spirit  of  insolence  and  cruelty,  procured  for  himself  an  universal 
hatred.  It  is  now  the  interest  of  America  to  provide  for  her- 
self. She  hath  already  a  large  and  young  family,  whom  it  is 
more  her  duty  to  take  care  of,  than  to  be  granting  away  her 
property  to  support  a  power  which  is  become  a  reproach  to  the 
names  of  men  and  Christians — Ye,  whose  office  it  is  to  watch 
over  the  morals  of  a  nation,  of  whatever  sect  or  denomination 
ye  are  of,  as  well  as  ye  who  are  more  immediately  the  guardians 
of  the  public  liberty,  if  you  wish  to  preserve  your  native  coun- 
try uncontaminated  by  European  corruption,  ye  must  in  secret 
wish  a  separation — but  leaving  the  moral  part  to  private  reflec- 
tion, I  shall  chiefly  confine  my  further  remarks  to  the  following 
heads : 

1st,  That  it  is  the  interest  of  America  to  be  separated  from 
Britain. 

2nd,  Which  is  the  easiest  and  most  practicable  plan,  recon- 
ciliation or  independence  ?  with  some  occasional  remarks. 

In  support  of  the  first,  I  could,  if  I  iudged  it  proper,  produce 


46  COMMON   SENSE. 

the  opinion  of  some  of  the  ablest  and  most  experienced  men  on 
this  continent:  and  whose  sentiments  on  that  head  are  not  yet 
publicly  known.  It  is  in  reality  a  self-evident  position :  for  no 
nation  in  a  state  of  foreign  dependence,  limited  in  its  commerce, 
and  cramped  and  fettered  in  its  legislative  powers,  can  ever 
arrive  at  any  material  eminence.  America  doth  not  yet  know 
what  opulence  is;  and  although  the  progress  which  she  hath 
made  stands  unparalleled  in  the  history  of  other  nations  it  is 
but  childhood,  compared  with  what  she  would  be  capable  of 
arriving  at,  had  she,  as  she  ought  to  have,  the  legislative  powers 
in  her  own  hands.  England  is,  at  this  time,  proudly  coveting 
what  would  do  her  no  good  were  she  to  accomplish  it;  and  the 
continent  hesitating  on  a  matter  which  will  be  her  final  ruiu 
if!  neglected.  It  is  the  commerce  and  not  the  conquest  of 
America  by  which  England  is  to  be  benefited,  and  that  would 
in  a  great  measure  continue,  were  the  countries  as  independent 
of  each  other  as  France  and  Spain;  because  in  many  articles 
neither  can  go  to  a  better  market.  But  it  is  the  Independence 
of  this  country  of  Britain  or  any  other}  which  is  now  the  main 
and  only  object  worthy  of  contention,  and  which  like  all  other 
truths  discovered  by  necessity,  will  appear  clearer  and  stronger 
every  day. 

1st,    Because  it  will  come  to  that  one  time  01  other. 

2nd,  Because  the  longer  it  is  delayed,  the  harder  it  will  be  to 
accomplish.  I  have  frequently  amused  myself  both  in  public 
and  private  companies  with  silently  remarking  the  specious 
errors  of  those  who  speak  without  reflecting.  And  among  the 
many  which  I  have  heard,  the  following  seems  the  most  general, 
•viz.,  that  if  this  rupture  should  happen  forty  or  fifty  years  hence, 
instead  of  now,  the  continent  would  be  more  able  to  shake  off 
the  dependence.  To  which  1  reply,  that  our  military  ability  at 
this  time,  arises  from  the  experience  gained  in  the  last  war,  and 
which  in  forty  or  fifty  years  time  would  be  totally  extinct. 
The  continent  would  not,  by  that  time  have  a  general,  or  even 
a  military  officer  left;  and  we  or  those  who  may  succeed  us, 
would  be  as  ignorant  of  martial  matters  as  the  ancient  Indians : 
and  this  single  position,  closely  attended  to,  will  unanswerably 
prove  that  the  present  time  is  preferable  to  all  others.  The 
argument  turns  thus — at  the  conclusion  of  the  last  war,  we  had 
experience,  but  wanted  numbers;  and  forty  or  fifty  years  hence, 
we  shall  have  numbers,  without  experience;  wherefore,  the  pro- 
per point  of  time,  must  be  some  particular  point  between  thr 


COMMON  SENSE.  47 

two  extremes,  in  which  a  sufficiency  of  the  former  remains,  and 
a  proper  increase  of  the  latter  is  obtained:  and  that  point  of 
time  is  the  present  time. 

The  reader  will  pardon  this  digression,  as  it  does  not  properly 
come  under  the  head  I  first  set  out  with,  and  to  which  I  again 
return  by  the  following  position,  viz.: 

Should  affairs  be  patched  up  with  Britain,  and  she  remain  the 
governing  and  sovereign  power  of  America  (which,  as  matters 
are  now  circumstanced,  is  giving  up  the  point  entirely),  we  shall 
deprive  ourselves  of  the  very  means  of  sinking  the  debt  we 
have  or  may  contract.  The  value  of  the  back  lands,  which 
some  of  the  provinces  are  clandestinely  deprived  of  by  the  un- 
just extension  of  the  limits  of  Canada,  valued  only  at  five  pounds 
sterling  per  hundred  acres,  amount  to  upwards  of  twenty-five 
millions  Pennsylvania  currency;  and  the  quit-rents  at  one 
penny  sterling  per  acre,  t  -  twr  millions  yearly. 

It  is  by  the  sale  of  those  lands  that  the  debt  may  be  sunk, 
without  burden  to  any,  and  the  quit-rent  reserved  thereon,  will 
always  lessen,  and  in  time,  will  wholly  support  the  yearly  ex- 
pense of  government.  It  matters  not  how  long  the  debt  is  in 
paying,  so  that  the  lands  when  sold  be  applied  to  the  discharge 
of  it,  and  for  the  execution  of  which,  the  congress  for  the  time 
being,  will  be  the  continental  trustees. 

I  proceed  now  to  the  second  head,  viz.:  Which  is  the  easiest 
and  most  practicable  plan,  reconciliation  or  independence  ?  with 
some  occasional  remarks. 

He  who  takes  nature  for  his  guide,  is  not  easily  beaten  out 
of  his  argument,  and  on  that  ground,  T  answer  generally — That 
INDEPENDENCE  being  a  SINGLE  SIMPLE  LINE,  contained  within 
ourselves;  and  reconciliation,  a  matter  exceedingly  perplexed 
and  complicated,  and  in  which  a  treacherous,  capricious  court  is 
to  interfere,  gives  the  answer  without  a  doubt. 

The  present  state  of  America  is  truly  alarming  to  every  man 
who  is  capable  of  reflection.  Without  law,  without  govern- 
ment, without  any  other  mode  of  power  than  what  is  founded 
on,  and  granted  by,  courtesy.  Held  together  by  an  unexampled 
occurrence  of  sentiment,  which  is  nevertheless  subject  to  change, 
and  which  every  secret  enemy  is  endeavoring  to  dissolve.  Our 
present  condition  is,  legislation  without  law;  wisdom  without 
a  plan;  a  constitution  without  a  name;  and,  what  is  strangely 
astonishing,  perfect  independence  contending  for  dependence. 
The  instance  is  without  a  precedent;  the  case  never  existed 


48  COMMON  SENSE. 

before;  and,  who  can  tell  what  may  be  the  event?  The  pro- 
perty of  no  man  is  secure  in  the  present  unbraced  system  of 
things.  The  mind  of  the  multitude  is  left  at  random,  and  see- 
ing no  fixed  object  before  them,  they  pursue  such  as  fancy  or 
opinion  presents.  Nothing  is  criminal;  there  is  no  such  a  thing 
as  treason ;  wherefore,  every  one  thinks  himself  at  liberty  to  act 
as  he  pleases.  The  tories  dared  not  have  assembled  offensively, 
had  they  known  that  there  lives,  by  that  act,  were  forfeited  to 
the  laws  of  the  state.  A  line  of  distinction  should  be  drawn 
betweed  English  soldiers  taken  in  battle,  and  inhabitants  of 
America  taken  in  arms.  The  first  are  prisoners,  but  the  latter 
traitors.  The  one  forfeits  his  liberty,  the  other  his  head. 

Notwithstanding  our  wisdom,  there  is  a  visible  feebleness  in 
some  of  our  proceedings  which  gives  encouragement  to  dissen- 
tions.  The  Continental  Belt  is  too  loosely  buckled.  And  if 
something  is  not  done  in  time,  it  will  be  too  late  to  do  any 
thing,  and  we  shall  fall  into  a  state,  in  which  neither  Reconcili- 
ation nor  Independence  will  be  practicable.  The  king  and  his 
worthless  adherence  are  got  at  their  old  game  of  dividing  the 
continent,  amd  their  are  not  wanting  among  us,  printers,  who 
will  be  busy  in  spreading  specious  falsehoods.  The  artful  and 
hypocritical  letter  which  appeared  a  few  months  ago  in  two  of 
the  New  York  papers,  and*  likewise  in  others,  is  an  evidence 
that  there  are  men  who  want  both  judgmenj  and  honesty. 

It  is  easy  getting  into  holes  and  corners  and  talking  of  recon- 
ciliation :  but  do  such  men  seriously  consider  how  difficult  the 
task  is,  and  how  dangerous  it  may  prove,  should  the  continent 
divide  thereon  ]  Do  they  take  within  their  view,  all  the  various 
orders  of  men  whose  situation  and  circumstances,  as  well  as 
their  own,  are  to  be  considered  therein  ?  Do  they  put  them- 
selves in  the  place  of  the  sufferer  whose  all  is  already  gone  and 
of  the  soldier,  who  hath  quitted  all  for  the  defence  of  his  coun- 
try 1  If  their  ill-judged  moderation  be  suited  to  their  own  pri- 
vate situations  only,  regardless  of  others,  the  event  will  convince 
them  that  they  are  reckoning  without  their  host." 

Put  us,  say  some,  on  the  footing  we  were  in  the  year  1763, 
to  which  I  answer,  the  request  is  not  now  in  the  power  of  Bri- 
tain to  comply  with,  neither  will  she  propose  it;  but  if  it  were, 
and  even  should  it  be  granted,  I  ask,  as  a  reasonable  question, 
by  what  means  is  such  a  corrupt  and  faithless  court  to  be  kept 
to  its  engagements  ?  Another  parliament,  nay,  even  the  pre- 
sent, may  hereafter  repeal  the  obligation,  on  the  pretence  of  its 


COMMON   SENSE. 

being  violently  obtained,  or  unwisely  granted;  and,  in  that  case, 
where  is  our  redress1?  No  going  to  law  with  nations;  cannon 
are  the  barristers  of  ci'owns;  and  the  sword,  not  of  justice,  but 
of  war,  decides  the  suit.  To  be  on  the  footing  of  1763,  it  is  not 
sufficient  that  the  laws  only  be  put  in  the  same  state,  but  that 
our  circumstances,  likewise,  be  put  in  the  same  state ;  our  burnt 
and  destroyed  towns  repaired,  or  built  up,  our  private  losses 
made  good,  our  public  debts  (contracted  for  defence)  discharged ; 
otherwise,  we  shall  be  millions  worse  then  we  were  at  that  en- 
viable period.  Such  a  request,  had  it  been  complied  with  a 
year  ago  would  have  won  the  heart  and  soul  of  the  continent 
— but  now  it  is  too  late:  "The  Rubicon  is  passed." 

Besides,  the  taking  up  arms,  merely  to  enforce  the  repeal  of 
a  pecuniary  law,  seems  as  unwarrantable  by  the  divine  law,  and 
as  repugnant 'to  human  feelings,  as  the  taking  up  arms  to  en- 
force obedience  thereto.  The  object,  on  either  side,  doth  not 
justifv  the  means;  for  the  lives  01  men  are  too  valuable  to  be 
cast  away  on  such  trifles  It  is  the  violence  which  is  done  and 
threatened  to  our  persons;  the  destruction  of  our  property  by 
an  armed  force ;  the  invasion  of  our  country  by  fire  and  sword, 
which  conscientiously  qualifies  the  use  of  arms :  and  the  instant 
in  which  such  mode  of  defence  became  necessary,  all  subjection 
to  Britain  ought  to  have  ceased;  and  the  independence  of 
America  should  have  been  considered  as  dating  its  era  from, 
and  published  by,  the  jv-st  musket  that  was  fired  against  her. 
This  line  is  a  line  of  consistency;  neither  drawn  by  caprice, 
nor  extended  by  ambition;  but  produced  by  a  chain  of  events, 
of  which  the  colonies  were  not  the  authors. 

I  shall  conclude  these  remarks,  with  the  following  timely  and 
well-intended  hints.  We  ought  to  reflect  that  there  are  three 
different  ways  by  which  an  independency  may  hereafter  be  effec- 
ted; and  that  one  of  those  three,  will,  one  day  or  other,  be  the 
fate  of  America,  viz ,  By  the  legal  voice  of  the  people  in  con- 
gress; but  a  military  power;  or  by  a  mob;  it  may  not  always 
happen  that  our  soldiers  are  citizens,  and  the  multitude  a  body 
of  reasonable  men;  virtue,  as  I  have  already  remarked,  is  not 
hereditary,  neither  is  it  perpetual.  Should  an  independency  be 
brought  about  by  the  first  of  those  means,  we  have  every 
opportunity  and  every  encouragement  before  us  to  form  the 
noblest,  purest  constitution  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  We  have 
it  in  our  power  to  begin  the  world  over  again.  A  situation, 
similar  to  the  present,  hath  not  happened  since  the  days  of  Noah 


50  COMMON   SENSE. 

until  now.  The  birthday  of  a  new  world  is  at  hand,  and  a  race 
of  men,  perhaps  as  numerous  as  all  Europe  contains,  are  to 
receive  their  portion  of  freedom  from  the  events  of  a  few 
months.  The  reflection  is  awful — and  in  this  point  of  view,  how 
trifling,  how  ridiculous,  do  the  little  palrty  cavilings,  of  a  few 
weak  or  interested  men  appear,  when  weighed  against  the  busi- 
ness of  a  world. 

Should  we  neglect  the  present  favorable  and  inviting  period, 
and  independence  be  hereafter  effected  by  any  other  means,  we 
must  charge  the  consequence  to  ourselves,  or  to  those  rather, 
whose  narrow  and  prejudiced  souls,  are  habitually  opposing  the 
measure,  without  either  inquiring  or  reflecting.  There  are 
reasons  to  be  given  in  support  of  independence,  which  men 
should  rather  privately  think  of,  than  be  publicly  told  of.  We 
ought  not  now  to  be  debating  whether  we  shall  be  independent 
or  not,  but  anxious  to  accomplish  it  on  a  firm,  secure  and  honor- 
able basis,  and  uneasy  rather,  that  it  is  not  yet  began  upon. 
Every  day  convinces  us  of  necessity.  Even  the  tories  (if  such 
things  yet  remain  among  us)  should,  of  all  men,  be  the  most 
solicitous  to  promote  it;  for  as  the  appointment  of  committee* 
at  first,  protected  them  from  popular  rage,  so,  a  wise  and  welJ- 
established  form  of  goverment  will  be  the  only  means  of  con- 
tinuing it  securely  to  them.  Wherefore,  if  they  have  no  virtue 
enough  to  be  Whigs,  they  ought  to  have  prudence  enough  to 
wish  for  independence. 

In  short,  independence  is  the  only  bond  that  tie  and  keep  us 
together.  We  shall  then  see  our  object,  and  our  ears  will  be 
legally  shut  against  the  schemes  of  an  intriguing,  as  well  as 
cruel,  enemy.  We  shall  then,  too,  be  on  a  proper  footing  to 
treat  with  Britain ;  for  there  is  reason  to  conclude,  that  the  pride 
of  that  court  will  be  less  hurt  with  treating  with  the  American 
states  for  terms  of  peace,  than  with  those  whom  she  denominates 
''rebellious  subjects,"  for  terms  of  accommodation.  It  is  our 
delaying  it  that  encourages  her  to  hope  for  conquest,  and  our 
backwardness  tends  only  to  prolong  the  war.  As  we  have, 
without  any  good  effect  therefrom,  withheld  our  trade  to  obtain 
a  redress  of  our  grievances,  let  us  now  try  the  alternative,  by 
independendently  redressing  them  ourselves,  and  then  offering 
to  open  the  trade.  The  mercantile  and  reasonable  part  of  Eng- 
land will  be  still  with  us;  because  peace  with  trade,  is  prefer- 
able to  war,  without  it.  And  if  this  offer  be  not  accepted,  other 
courts  may  be  applied  to. 


COMMON   SENSE.  51 

On  these  grounds  I  rest  the  matter.  And  as  no  offer  hath 
yet  been  made  to  refute  the  doctrine  contained  in  the  former 
editions  of  this  pamphlet,  it  is  a  negative  proof,  that  either  the 
doctrine  cannot  be  refuted,  or  that  the  party  in  favor  of  it  are 
too  numerous  to  be  opposed.  Wherefore,  instead  of  gazing  at 
each  other,  with  suspicious  or  doubtful  curiosity,  let  each  of  us 
hold  out  to  his  neighbor  the  hearty  hand  of  friendship,  and  unite 
in  drawing  a  line,  which,  like  an  act  of  oblivion,  shall  bury  in 
forgetfulness  every  former  dissention.  Let  the  names  of  whig 
and  tory  be  extinct ;  and  let  none  other  be  heard  among  us,  than 
those  of  a  good  citizen;  an  open  and  resolute  friend;  and  a  virtu- 
ous supporter  of  the  BIGHTS  of  MANKIND,  and  of  the  FBEE  AND 

INDEPENDENT   STATES    OP    AMERICA. 


THE   END   OF  COMMON   SENSE. 


THE   CRISIS. 


THE    CEISIS. 


NUMBER  I. 

THESE  are  the  times  that  try  men's  souls.  The  summer 
soldier  and  the  sunshine  patriot  will  in  this  crisis,  shrink  from 
the  service  of  his  country ;  but  he  that  stands  it  NOW,  deserves 
the  love  and  thanks  of  man  and  woman.  Tyranny,  like  hell, 
is  not  easily  conquered;  yet  we  have  this  consolation  with  us, 
that  the  harder  the  conflict,  the  more  glorious  the  triumph. 
What  we  obtain  too  cheap,  we  esteem  too  lightly;  'tis  dearness 
only  that  gives  everything  its  value.  Heaven  knows  how  to 
put  a  proper  price  upon  its  goods;  and  it  would  be  strange  in- 
deed, if  so  celestial  an  article  as  FREEDOM  should  not  be  highly 
rated.  Britain,  with  an  army  to  enforce  her  tyranny,  has  de- 
clared that  she  has  a  right  (not  only  to  TAX)  but  "  to  BIND  us  in 
ALL  CASES  WHATSOEVER,"  and  if  being  bound  in  that  manner, 
is  not  slavery,  then  is  there  not  such  a  thing  as  slavery  upon 
earth.  Even  the  expression  is  impious,  for  so  unlimited  a 
power  can  belong  only  to  God. 

Whether  the  independence  of  the  continent  was  declared  too 
soon,  or  delayed  too  long,  I  will  not  now  enter  into  as  an  argu- 
ment ;  my  own  simple  opinion  is,  that  had  it  been  eight  months 
earlier,  it  would  have  been  much  better.  We  did  not  make  a 
proper  use  of  last  winter,  neither  could  we,  while  we  were  in  a 
dependent  state.  However,  the  fault,  if  it  were  one,  was  all 
our  own ;  we  have  none  to  blame  but  ourselves.  But  no  great 
deal  is  lost  yet;  all  that  Howe  has  been  doing  for  this  month 
past,  is  rather  a  ravage  than  a  conquest,  which  the  spirit  of  the 
Jerseys  a  year  ago  would  have  quickly  repulsed,  and  which  time 
and  a  little  resolution  will  soon  recover. 

I  have  as  little  superstition  in  me  as  any  man  living,  but  my 
secret  opinion  has  ever  been,  and  still  is,  that  God  Almighty 
will  not  give  up  a  people  to  military  destruction,  or  leave  them 
unsupportedly  to  perish,  who  have  so  earnestly  and  so  repeat- 
edly sought  to  avoid  the  calamities  of  war,  by  every  decent 
method  which  wisdom  could  invent  Neither  have  I  so  much 


56  THE   C 


of  the  infidel  in  me,  as  to  suppose  that  he  has  relinquished  the 
government  of  the  world,  and  given  us  up  to  the  care  of  devils ; 
and  as  I  do  not,  I  cannot  see  on  what  grounds  the.  king  of 
Britain  can  look  up  to  heaven  for  help  against  us :  a  common 
murderer,  a  highwayman,  or  a  house-breaker,  has  as  good  a  pre- 
tence as  he. 

"Tis  surprising  to  see  how  rapidly  a  panic  will  sometimes  run 
through  a  country.  All  nations  and  ages  have  been  subject  to 
them:  Britain  has  trembled  like  an  ague  at  the  report  of  a 
French  fleet  of  flat-bottomed  boats;  and  in  the  fourteenth  cen- 
tury the  whole  English  army,  after  ravaging  the  kingdom  of 
France,  was  driven  back  like  men  petrified  with  fear;  and  this 
brave  exploit  was  performed  by  a  few  broken  forces  collected 
and  headed  by  a  woman,  Joan  of  Arc.  Would  that  heaven 
might  inspire  some  Jersey  maid  to  spirit  up  her  countrymen, 
and  save  her  fair  fellow  sufferers  from  ravage  and  ravishment ! 
Yet  panics,  in  some  cases,  have  their  uses;  they  produce  as 
much  good  as  hurt.  Their  duration  is  always  short;  the  mind 
soon  grows  through  them,  and  acquires  a  firmer  habit  than 
before.  But  their  peculiar  advantage  is,  that  they  are  the 
touchstones  of  sincerity  and  hypocrisy,  and  bring  things  and 
men  to  light,  which  might  otherwise  have  lain  forever  undis- 
covered. In  fact,  the}'  have  the  same  effect  on  secret  traitors 
which  an  imaginary  apparition  would  have  upon  a  private 
murderer.  They  sift  out  the  hidden  thoughts  of  man,  and  hold 
them  up  in  public  to  the  world.  Many  a  disguised  tory  has 
lately  shown  his  head,  that  shall  penitentially  solemnize  with 
curses  the  day  on  which  Howe  arrived  upon  the  Delaware. 

As  I  was  with  the  troops  at  Fort  Lee,  and  marched  with 
them  to  the  edge  of  Pennsylvania,  I  am  well  acquainted  with 
many  circumstances,  which  those  who  live  at  a  distance,  know 
but  little  or  nothing  of.  Our  situation  there,  was  exceedingly 
cramped,  the  place  being  a  narrow  neck  of  land  between  the 
North  River  and  the  Hackensack.  Our  force  was  inconsider- 
able, being  not  one-fourth  so  great  as  Howe  could  bring  against 
us.  We  had  no  army  at  hand  to  have  relieved  the  garrison, 
had  we  shut  ourselves  up  and  stood  on  our  defence.  Our  am- 
munition, light  artillery,  and  the  best  part  of  our  stores,  had 
been  removed,  on  the  apprehension  that  Howe  would  endeavor 
to  penetrate  the  Jerseys,  in  which  case  Fort  Lee  could  be  of  no 
use  to  us ;  for  it  must  occur  to  every  thinking  man,  whether  in 
the  army  or  not,  that  these  kind  of  field  forts  are  only  for  tern- 


THE  CRISIS.  57 

porary  purposes,  and   last  in  use  no  longer  than  the  enemy 
directs  his  force  against  the  particular  object,  which  such  forts 
are  raised  to  defend,     such  was  our  situation  and  condition  at 
fort  Lee  on  the  morning  of  the  20th  of  November,  when  an 
officer  arrived  with  information  that  the  enemy  with  200  boats 
had  landed  about  seven  miles  above :  Major  General  Green, 
who  commanded  the  garrison,  immediately  ordered  them  under 
arms,  and  sent  express  to  General  Washington  at  the  town  of 
Hackensnck,  distant,  by  the  way  of  the  ferry,  six  miles     Our 
first  object  wae  io  secure   the   bridge  over  the  Hackensack, 
which  laid  up  cLe  river  between  the  enemy  and  us,  about  six 
miles  from  UP,  and  three  from  them.     General  Washington  ar- 
rived in  about  lii roe  quarters  of  an  hour,  and  marched  at  the 
head  of  the-  troops  towards  the  bridge,  which  place  I  expected 
we  should  have  a  brush  for ;  however,  they  did  not  choose  to 
dispute  it  with  us,  and  the  greatest  part  of  our  troops  went 
over  the  bridge,   the  rest  over  the  ferry  except  some  which 
passed  at  a  mill  on  a  small  creek,  between  the  bridge  and  the 
ferry,  and  made  their  way  through  some  marshy  grounds  up  to 
the   town  of  Hackensack,   and  there  passed  the  river.     We 
brought  off  as  much  baggage  as  the  wagons  could  contain,  the 
rest  was  lost.     The  simple  object  was  to  bring  off  the  garrison, 
and  march  them  on  till  they  could  be  strengthened  by  the  Jer- 
sey or  Pennsylvania  militia,  so  as  to  be  enabled  to  make  a 
stand.     We  stayed  four  days  at  Newark,  collected  our  out-posts 
with  some  of  the  Jersey  militia,  and  marched  out  twice  to  meet 
the  enemy,  on  being  informed  that  they  were  advancing,  though 
our  numbers  were  greatly  inferior  to  theirs.     Howe,  in  my  lit- 
tle opinion,  committed  a  great  error  in  generalship  in  not 
throwing  a  body  of  forces  off  from  Staten  Island  through  Am- 
boy,  by  which  means  he  might  have  seized  all  our  stores  at 
Brunswick,  and  intercepted  our  march  into  Pennsylvania :  but 
if  we  believe  the  power  of  hell  to  be  limited,  we  must  likewise 
believe  that  their  agents  are  under  some  providential  control. 
I  shall  not  now  attempt  to  give  all  the  particulars  of  our 
retreat  to  the  Delaware;  suffice  for  the  present  to  say,  that 
both  officers  and  men,  though  greatly  harassed  and  fatigued, 
without  rest,  covering,  or  provision,  the  inevitable  consequences 
of  a  long  retreat,  bore  it  with  a  manly  and  martial  spirit.     All 
their  wishes  centred  in  one,  which  was,  that  the  country  would 
turn  out  and  help  them  to  drive  the  enemy  back.     Voltaire  has 
remarked  that  King  William  never  appeared  ^  full  advantage 


58  THE  CRISIS. 

but  in  difficulties  and  in  action ;  the  same  remark  may  be  made 
on  General  Washington,  for  the  character  tits  him.  There  is  a 
natural  firmness  in  some  minds  which  cannot  be  unlocked  by 
trifles,  but  which,  when  unlocked,  discovers  a  cabinet  of  forti- 
tude ;  and  I  reckon  it  among  those  kind  of  public  blessings, 
which  we  do  not  immediately  see,  that  God  hath  blest  him  witli 
uninterrupted  health,  and  given  him  a  mind  that  can  even 
flourish  upon  care. 

I  shall  conclude  this  paper  with  some  miscellaneous  remarks 
on  the  state  of  our  affairs ;  and  shall  begin  with  asking  the 
following  question:  Why  is  it  that  the  enemy  have  leit  the 
New-England  provinces,  and  made  these  middle  ones  the  seat 
of  war  ?  The  answer  is  easy :  New-England  is  not  infested 
with  tories,  and  we  are.  I  have  been  tender  in  raising  the 
cry  against  these  men,  and  I  used  numberless  arguments  to  show 
them  their  danger,  but  it  will  not  do  to  sacrifice  a  world  either 
to  their  folly  or  their  baseness.  The  period  is  now  arrived,  in 
phich  either  they  or  we  must  change  our  sentiments,  or  one  or 
both  must  fall.  And  what  is  a  tory  1  Good  God!  what  is  he? 
I  should  not  be  afraid  to  go  with  a  hundred  whigs  against  a 
thousand  tories,  were  they  to  attempt  to  get  into  arms.  Every 
tory  is  a  coward  ;  for  servile,  slavish,  self-interested  fear  is  the 
foundation  of  toryism;  and  a  man  under  such  influence,  though 
he  may  be  cruel,  never  can  be  brave. 

But,  before  the  line  of  irrecoverable  separation  be  drawn 
between  us,  let  us  reason  the  matter  together :  your  cond\ict 
is  an  invitation  to  the  enemy,  yet  not  one  in  a  thousand  of  you  has 
heart  enough  to  join  him.  Howe  is  as  much  deceived  by  you 
as  the  American  cause  is  injured  by  you.  He  expects  you  will 
all  take  up  arms,  and  flock  to  his  standard,  with  muskets  on 
your  shoulders.  Your  opinions  are  of  no  use  to  him,  unless 
you  support  him  personally,  for  'tis  soldiers,  and  not  tories 
that  he  wants. 

I  once  felt  all  that  kind  of  anger,  which  a  man  ought  to  feel, 
against  the  mean  principles  that  are  held  by  the  tories:  a  noted 
one,  who  kept  a  tavern  at  Amboy,  was  standing  at  his  door, 
with  as  pretty  a  child  in  his  hand,  about  eight  or  nine  years 
old,  as  I  ever  saw,  and  after  speaking  his  mind  as  freely  as  he 
thought  was  prudent,  finished  with  this  unfatherly  expression, 
"  Well/  give  me  peace  in  my  day."  Not  a  man  lives  on  the 
continent  but  fully  believes  that  a  separation  must  some  time 
dr  other  finally  take  place,  and  a  generous  parent  should  have 


THE  CRISIS.  5!) 

said,  "If  there  must  be  trouble  let  it  be  in  my  day,  that  my  child 
may  have  peace;"  and  this  single  reflection,  well  applied,  is 
sufficient  to  awaken  every  man  to  duty.  Not  a  place  upon  earth 
might  be  so  happy  as  America.  Her  situation  is  remote  from 
all  the  wrangling  world,and  she  has  nothing  to  do  but  to  trade 
with  them.  A  man  can  distinguish  himself  between  temper 
and  principle,  and  I  am  as  confident,  as  I  am  that  God  governs 
the  world,  that  America  will  never  be  happy  till  she  gets  clear 
of  foreign  dominion.  Wars,  without  ceasing,  will  break  out 
till  that  period  arrives,  and  the  continent  must  in  the  end  be 
conqueror ;  for  though  the  flame  of  liberty  may  sometimes  cease 
to  shine,  the  coal  can  never  expire. 

America  did  not,  nor  does  not  want  force ;  but  she  wanted  a 
proper  application  of  that  force.  Wisdom  is  not  the  purchase 
of  a  day,  and  it  is  no  wonder  that  we  should  err  at  the  first 
setting  off.  From  an  excess  of  tenderness,  we  were  unwilling 
to  raise  an  army,  and  trusted  our  cause  to  the  temporary  defence 
of  a  well-meaning  militia.  A  summer's  experience  has  now 
taught  us  better;  yet  with  those  troops,  while  they  were  col- 
lected, we  were  able  to  set  bounds  to  the  progress  of  the  enemy, 
and,  thank  God!  they  are  again  assembling.  I  always  consider 
militia  as  the  best  troops  in  the  world  for  a  sudden  exertion, 
but  they  will  not  do  for  a  long  campaign.  Howe,  it  is  probable, 
will  make  an  attempt  on  this  city ;  should  he  fail  on  this  side 
the  Delaware,  he  is  ruined:  if  he  succeeds,  our  cause  is  not 
ruined.  He  stakes  all  on  his  side  against  a  part  on  ours;  ad- 
mitting he  succeeds,  the  consequence  will  be,  that  armies  from 
both  ends  of  the  continent  will  march  to  assist  their  suffering 
friends  in  the  middle  states;  for  he  cannot  go  everywhere;  it  is 
impossible.  I  consider  Howe  the  greatest  enemy  the  tories 
have;  he  is  bringing  a  war  into  their  country,  which,  had  it 
not  been  for  him  and  partly  for  themselves,  they  had  been  clear 
of.  Should  he  now  be  expelled,  I  wish  with  all  the  devotion  of 
a  Christian,  that  the  names  of  whig  and  tory  may  never  more 
lie  mentioned;  but  should  the  tories  give  him  encouragement  to 
come,  or  assistance  if  he  come,  I  as  sincerely  wish  that  our  next 
year's  arms  may  expel  them  from  the  continent,  and  that  con- 
gress appropriate  their  possessions  to  the  relief  of  those  who 
have  suffered  in  -well  doing.  A  single  successful  batttle  next 
year  will  settle  the  whole.  America  could  carry  on  a  two  year's 
war  by  the  confiscation  of  the  property  of  disaffected  persons; 
and  be  made  happy  by  their  expulsion.  Say  not  that  this  is 


60  THE  CEISIS. 

revenge,  call  it  rather  the  soft  resentment  of  a  suffering  people, 
who,  having  no  object  in  view  but  the  good  of  all,  have  staked 
their  own  all  upon  a  seemingly  doubtful  event.  Yet  it  is  folly 
to  argue  against  determined  hardness ;  eloquence  may  strike  the 
ear,  and  the  language  of  sorrow  draAv  forth  the  tear  of  compas- 
sion, but  nothing  can  reach  the  heart  that  is  steeled  with  pre- 
judice. 

Quitting  this  class  of  men,  I  turn  with  the  warm  ardor  of  a 
friend  to  those  who  have  nobly  stood,  and  are  yet  determined 
to  stand  the  matter  out:  I  call  not  upon  a  few,  but  upon  all: 
not  on  this  state  or  that  state,  but  on  every  state ;  up  and  help 
us ;  lay  your  shoulders  to  the  wheel ;  better  have  too  much  force 
than  too  little,  when  so  great  an  object  is  at  stake.  Let  it  be 
told  to  the  future  world,  that  in  the  depth  of  winter,  when 
nothing  but  hope  and  virtue  could  survive,  that  the  city  and 
the  country,  alarmed  at  one  common  danger,  came  forth  to 
meet  and  to  repulse  it.  Say  not  that  thousands  are  gone,  turn 
out  your  tens  of  thousands;  throw  not  the  burden  of  the  day 
upon  Providence,  but  "show  your  faith  by  your  works"  that  God 
may  bless  you.  It  matters  not  where  you  live,  or  what  rank 
of  life  you  hold,  the  evil  or  the  blessing  will  reach  you  all.  The 
far  and  the  near,  the  home  counties  and  the  back,  the  rich  and 
the  poor,  will  suffer  or  rejoice  alike.  The  heart  that  feels  not 
now,  is  dead :  the  blood  of  his  children  will  curse  his  cowardice, 
who  shrinks  back  at  a  time  when  a  little  might  have  saved  the 
whole,  and  made  them  happy.  I  love  the  man  that  can  smile 
at  trouble,  that  can  gather  strength  frcm  distress,  and  grow 
brave  by  reflection.  'Tis  the  business  of  little  minds  to  shrink  ; 
but  he  whose  heart  is  firm,  and  whose  conscience  approves  his 
conduct,  will  pursue  his  principles  unto  death.  My  own  line 
of  reasoning  is  to  myself  as  straight  and  clear  as  a  ray  of  light. 
Not  all  the  treasures  of  the  world,  so  far  as  I  believe,  could 
have  induced  me  to  support  an  offensive  war,  for  I  think  it 
murder;  but  if  a  thief  breaks  into  my  house,  burns  and  destroys 
my  property,  and  kills  or  threatens  to  kill  me,  or  those  that  are 
in  it,  and  to  "bind  me  in  all  cases  whatsoever,"  to  his  absolute 
will,  am  I  to  suffer  it  ?  What  signifies  it  to  me,  whether  he  who 
does  it  is  a  king  or  a  common  man;  my  countryman,  or  not 
my  countryman;  whether  it  be  done  by  an  individual  villain 
or  an  army  of  them  ?  If  we  reason  to  the  root  of  things  we 
shall  find  no  diSerence;  neither  can  any  just  cause  be  assigned 
why  we  should  punish  in  the  one  case  and  pardon  in  the  other. 


THE  CRISIS.  61 

Let  them  call  me  rebel,  and  welcome,  I  feel  no  concern  from  it ; 
but  I  should  suffer  the  misery  of  devils,  where  I  to  make  a 
whore  of  my  soul  by  swearing  allegiance  to  one  whose  character 
is  that  of  a  sottish,  stupid,  stubborn,  worthless,  brutish  man. 
I  conceive  likewise  a  horrid  idea  in  receiving  mercy  from  a 
being,  who  at  the  last  day  shall  be  shrieking  to  the  rocks  and 
mountains  to  cover  him,  and  fleeing  with  terror  from  the  orphan, 
the  widow,  and  the  slain  of  America. 

There  are  cases  which  cannot  be  overdone  by  language,  and 
this  is  one.  There  are  persons  too  who  see  not  the  full  extent 
of  the  evil  which  threatens  them ;  they  solace  themselves  with 
hopes  that  the  enemy,  if  he  succeed,  will  be  merciful.  Is  this 
the  madness  of  folly,  to  expect  mercy  from  those  who  have  re- 
fused to  do  justice;  and  even  mercy,  where  conquest  is  the 
object,  is  only  a  trick  of  war;  the  cunning  of  the  fox  is  as 
murderous  as  the  violence  of  the  wolf;  and  we  ought  to  guard 
equally  against  both.  Howe's  first  object  is  partly  by  threats 
and  partly  by  promises,  to  terrify  or  seduce  the  people  to  deliver 
up  their  arms  and  to  receive  mercy.  The  ministry  recommended 
the  same  plan  to  Gage,  and  this  is  what  the  tories  call  making 
their  peace,  "  a  peace  which  passeth  all  understanding"  indeed! 
A  peace  which  would  be  the  immediate  forerunner  of  a  worse 
ruin  than  any  we  have  yet  thought  of.  Ye  men  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, do  reason  upon  these  things  !  Were  the  back  counties 
to  give  up  their  arms,  they  would  fall  an  easy  prey  to  the  Indians, 
who  are  all  armed;  this  perhaps  is  what  some  tories  would  not 
be  sorry  for.  Were  the  home  counties  to  deliver  up  their  arms, 
they  would  be  exposed  to  the  resentment  of  the  back  counties, 
who  would  then  have  it  in  their  power  to  chastise  their  defection 
at  pleasure.  And  were  any  one  state  to  give  up  its  arms,  that 
state  must  be  garrisoned  by  Howe's  army  of  Britains  and 
Hessians  to  preserve  it  from  the  anger  of  the  rest.  Mutual  fear 
is  the  principal  link  in  the  chain  of  mutual  love,  and  woe  be  to 
that  state  that  breaks  the  compact.  Howe  is  'mercifully  invit- 
ing you  to  barbarous  destruction,  and  men  must  be  either  rogues 
or  fools  that  will  not  see  it.  I  dwell  not  upon  the  powers  of 
imagination;  I  bring  reason  to  your  ears;  and  in  language  as 
plain  as  A,  B,  C,  hold  up  truth  to  your  eyes. 

I  thank  God  that  I  fear  not.  I  see  no  real  cause  for  fear. 
I  know  our  situation  well  and  can  see  the  way  out  of  it.  While 
our  army  was  collected,  Howe  dared  not  risk  a  battle,  and  it  is 
no  credit  to  him  that  he  decamped  from  the  White  Plains,  and 


62  THE  CRISIS. 

waited  a  mean  opportunity  to  ravage  the  defenceless  Jerseys ; 
but  it  is  great  credit  to  us,  that,  with  a  handful  of  men,  we  sus- 
tained an  orderly  retreat  for  near  an  hundred  miles,  brought  off' 
our  ammunition,  all  our  field  pieces,  the  greatest  part  of  our 
stores,  and  had  four  rivers  to  pass.  None  can  say  that  our  re- 
treat was  precipitate,  for  we  were  near  three  weeks  in  perform- 
ing it,  that  the  country  might  have  time  to  come  in.  Twice  we 
marched  back  to  meet  the  enemy,  and  remained  out  till  dark. 
The  sign  of  fear  was  not  seen  in  our  camp,  and  had  not  some  of 
the  cowardly  and  disaffected  inhabitants  sp  'tad  false  alarms 
through  the  country,  the  Jerseys  had  nev.:r  been  ravaged. 
Once  more  we  are  again  collected  and  collecting,  our  new  army 
at  both  ends  of  the  continent  is  recruiting  fast,  and  we  shall  be 
able  to  open  the  next  campaign  with  sixty  thousand  men,  well 
armed  and  clothed.  This  is  our  situation,  and  who  will  may 
know  it.  By  perseverance  and  fortitude  we  have  the  prospect 
of  a  glorious  issue  ;  by  cowardice  and  submission,  the  sad  choice 
of  a  variety  of  evils — a  ravaged  country — a  depopulated  city — 
habitations  without  safety,  arid  slavery  without  hope — our 
homes  turned  into  barracks  and  bawdy-houses  for  Hessians,  and 
a  future  race  to  provide  for,  whose  fathers  we  shall  doubt  of. 
Look  on  this  picture  and  weep  over  it !  and  if  there  yet  remains 
one  thoughtless  wretch  who  believes  it  not,  let  him  suffer  it  un- 
lamented. 

COMMON  S  N-SE. 
December  S3, 1776. 


NUMBER  IL 
TO  LORD  HOWFJ 

What's  in  the  name  of  lord  that  I  should  fear 
To  bring  my  grievance  to  the  public  ear  ? 

CHUBCHHL. 

UNIVERSAL  empire  is  the  prerogative  of  a  writer.  His  con- 
cerns are  with  all  mankind,  and  though  he  cannot  command 
their  obedience,  he  can  assign  them  their  duty.  The  Republic 
of  Letters  is  more  ancient  than  monarchy,  and  of  far  higher 
character  in  the  world  than  the  vassal  court  of  Britain;  he  that 
rebels  against  reason  is  a  real  rebel,  but  he  that  in  defence  of 
reason,  rebels  against  tyranny,  has  a  better  title  to  "  Defender 
of  the  Faith"  than  George  the  third. 


THE   CRISIS. 

As  a  military  man  your  lordship  may  hold  out  the  sword  of 
war,  and  call  it  the  "ultima  ratio  regum:"  the  last  reason  of 
Kings;  we  in  return  can  show  you  the  sword  of  justice,  and 
call  it,  "the  best  scourge  of  tyrants."  The  first  of  these  two 
may  threaten,  or  even  frighten  for  a  while,  and  cast  a  sickly 
languor  over  an  insulted  people,  but  reason  will  soon  recover 
the  debauch,  and  restore  them  again  to  tranquil  fortitude. 
Your  lordship,  I  find,  has  now  commenced  author,  and  pub- 
lished a  Proclamation;  I  have  published  a  Crisis;  as  they  stand, 
they  are  the  antipodes  of  each  other;  both  cannot  rise  at  once, 
and  one  of  them  must  descend;  and  so  quick  is  the  revolution 
of  things,  that  your  lordship's  performance,  I  see,  has  already 
fallen  many  degrees  from  its  first  place,  and  is  now  just  visible 
on  the  edge  of  the  political  horizon. 

It  is  surprising  to  what  a  pitch  of  infatuation,  blind  folly  and 
obstinacy  will  carry  mankind,  and  your  lordship's  drowsy  pro- 
clamation is  a  proof  that  it  does  not  even  quit  them  in  their 
sleep.  Perhaps  you  thought  America  too  was  taking  a  nap, 
and  therefore  chose,  like  Satan  to  Eve,  to  whisper  the  delusion 
softly,  lest  you  should  awaken  her.  This  continent,  sir,  is  too 
extensive  to  sleep  all  at  once,  and  too  watchful,  even  in  its 
slumbers,  not  to  startle  at  the  unhallowed  foot  of  an  invader. 
You  may  issue  your  proclamations,  and  welcome,  for  we  have 
learned  to  "  reverence  ourselves,"  and  scorn  the  insulting  ruffian 
that  employs  you.  America,  for  your  deceased  brother's  sake, 
would  gladly  have  shown  you  respect,  and  it  is  a  new  aggrava- 
tion to  her  feelings,  that  Howe  should  be  forgetful,  and  raise 
his  sword  against  those,  who  at  their  own  charge  raised  a  monu- 
ment to  his  brother.  But  your  master  has  commanded,  and  you 
have  not  enough  of  nature  left  to  refuse.  Surely  there  must 
be  something  strangely  degenerating  in  the  love  of  monarchy, 
that  can  so  completely  wear  a  man  down  to  an  ingrate,  and 
make  him  proud  to  lick  the  dust  that  kings  have  trod  upon.  A 
few  more  years,  should  you  survive  them,  will  bestow  on  you 
the  title  of  "  an  old  man ;"  and  in  some  hour  of  future  reflection 
you  may  probably  find  the  fitness  of  "VVolsey's  despairing  peni- 
tence— "  had  I  served  my  God  as  faithfully  as  I  have  served 
my  king,  he  would  not  thus  have  forsaken  me  in  my  old  age." 

The  character  you  appear  to  us  in,  is  truly  ridiculous.  Your 
friends,  the  tories,  announced  your  coming  with  high  descrip- 
tions of  your  unlimited  powers;  but  your  proclamation  has 
given  them  the  lie,  by  showing  you  to  be  a  commissioner  with 


64  THE  CRISIS. 

out  authority.  Had  your  powers  been  ever  so  great,  they  were 
nothing  to  us,  further  than  we  pleased;  because  we  had  the 
same  right  which  other  nations  had,  to  do  what  we  thought  was 
best.  "  The  UNITED  STATES  of  AMERICA,"  will  sound  as  pom- 
pously in  the  world  or  in  history,  as  "the  kingdom  of  Great 
Britain;"  the  character  of  General  Washington  will  fill  a  page 
with  as  much  lustre  as  that  of  Lord  Howe:  and  the  congress 
have  as  much  right  to  command  the  king  and  parliament  in  Lon- 
don, to  desist  from  legislation,  as  tJiey  or  you  have  to  command 
the  congress.  Only  suppose  how  laughable  such  an  edict  would 
appear  from  us,  and  then,  in  that  merry  mood,  do  but  turn  the 
tables  upon  yourself,  and  you  will  see  how  your  proclamation  is 
received  here.  Having  thus  placed  you  in  a  proper  position  in 
which  yon  may  have  a  full  view  of  your  folly,  and  learn  to  des- 
pise it,  I  hold  up  to  you,  for  that  purpose,  the  following  quota- 
tion from  your  own  lunarian  proclamation. —  "And  we  (lord 
Howe  and  general  Howe)  do  command  (and  in  his  majesty's 
name  forsooth)  all  such  persons  as  are  assembled  together,  under 
the  name  of  general  or  provincial  congresses,  committees,  con- 
ventions, or  other  associations,  by  whatever  name  or  names 
known  and  distinguished,  to  desist  and  cease  from  all  such  trea- 
sonable actings  and  doings." 

You  introduce  your  proclamation  5y  referring  to  your  de- 
clarations of  the  14th  of  July  and  19th  of  September.  In  the 
last  of  these,  you  sunk  yourself  below  the  character  of  a  private 
gentleman.  That  I  may  not  seem  to  accuse  you  unjustly,  I 
shall  state  the  circumstance :  by  a  verbal  invitation  of  yours, 
communicated  to  congress  by  General  Sullivan,  then  a  prisoner 
on  his  parole,  you  signified  your  desire  of  conferring  with  somr> 
members  of  that  body  as  private  gentlemen.  It  was  beneath 
the  dignity  of  the  American  congress  to  pay  any  regard  to  a 
message  that  at  best  was  but  a  genteel  affront,  and  had  too 
much  of  the  ministerial  complexion  of  tampering  with  private 
persons ;  and  which  might  probably  have  been  the  case,  had  the 
gentlemen  who  were  deputed  on  the  business,  possessed  that 
kind  of  easy  virtue  which  an  English  courtier  is  so  truly  dis- 
tinguished by.  Your  request,  however,  was  complied  with,  for 
honest  men  are  naturally  more  tender  of  their  civil  than  their 
political  fame.  The  interview  ended  as  every  sensible  man 
thought  it  would;  for  your  lordship  knows,  as  well  as  the 
writer  of  the  Crisis,  that  it  is  impossible  for  the  king  of  Eng- 
land to  promise  the  repeal,  or  even  the  revisa]  of  any  acts  of 


THE   CRISIS.  65 

parliament;  wherefore,  on  your  part,  you  had  nothing  to  say, 
more  than  to  request,  in  the  room  of  demanding,  the  entire  sur- 
render of  the  continent;  and  then,  if  that  was  complied  with, 
to  promise  that  the  inhabitants  should  escape  with  their  lives. 
This  was  the  upshot  of  the  conference.  You  informed  the  con- 
ferees that  you  were  two  months  in  soliciting  these  powers. 
We  ask,  what  powers?  for  as  commissioner  you  have  none.  If 
you  mean  the  power  of  pardoning,  it  is  an  oblique  proof  that 
your  master  was  determined  to  sacrifice  all  before  him:  and 
that  you  were  two  months  in  dissuading  him  from  his  purpose. 
Another  evidence  of  his  savage  obstinacy!  From  your  own 
account  of  the  matter  we  may  justly  draw  these  two  conclu- 
sions: 1st,  That  you  serve  a  monster;  2nd,  That  never  was  a 
messenger  sent  on  a  more  foolish  errand  than  yourself.  This 
plain  language  may  perhaps  sound  uncouthly  to  an  ear  vitiated 
by  courtly  refinements;  but  words  were  made  for  use,  and  the 
fault  lies  in  deserving  them,  or  the  abuse  in  applying  them 
unfairly. 

Soon  after  your  return  to  New  York,  you  published  a  very 
illiberal  and  unmanly  handbill  against  the  congress;  for  it  was 
certainly  t  tepping  out  of  the  line,  of  common  civility,  first  to 
screen  your  national  pride  by  soliciting  an  interview  with  them 
as  private  gentlemen,  and  in  the  conclusion  to  endeavor  to  de- 
ceive the  multitude  by  making  a  handbill  attack  on  the  whole 
body  of  the  congress ;  you  got  them  together  under  one  name, 
and  abused  them  under  another.  But  the  king  you  serve,  and 
the  cause  you  support,  afford  you  so  few  instances  of  acting  the 
gentleman,  that  out  of  pity  to  your  situation  the  congress  par- 
doned the  insult  by  taking  no  notice  of  it. 

Vou  say  in  that  handbill,  "  that  they,  the  congress,  disa- 
vowed every  purpose  for  reconciliation  not  consonant  with  their 
extravagant  and  inadmissible  claim  of  independence."  Why, 
God  bless  me !  what  have  you  to  do  with  our  'independence  1 
We  ask  no  leave  of  yours  to  set  it  up;  we  ask  no  money  of 
yours  to  support  it;  we  can  do  better  without  your  fleets  and 
armies  than  with  them;  you  may  soo"h  have  enough  to  do  to 
protect  yourselves  without  being  burdened  with  us.  We  are 
very  willing  to  be  at  peace  with  you,  to  buy  of  you  and  sell  to 
you,  and,  like  young  beginners  in  the  world,  to  work  for  our 
living;  therefore,  why  do  you  put  yourselves  out  of  cash,  when 
we  know  you  cannot  spare  it,  and  we  do  not  desire  you  to  run 
into  debt1?  I  am  willing,  sir,  that  you  should  see  your  folly  in 
6 


66  THE  CRISIS. 

every  point  of  •«  lew  I  can  place  it  in,  and  for  that  reason  de- 
scend sometimes  to  tell  you  in  jest  what  I  wish  you  to  see  in 
earnest.  But  to  be  more  serious  with  you,  why  do  you  say, 
"their  independence  1"  To  set  you  right,  sir,  we  tell  you,  that 
the  independency  is  ours,  not  theirs.  The  congress  were  au- 
thorized by  every  state  on  the  continent  to  publish  it  to  all  the 
world,  and  in  so  doing  are  not  to  be  considered  as  the  inven- 
tors, but  only  as  the  heralds  that  proclaimed  it,  or  the  office 
from  which  the  sense  of  the  people  received  a  legal  form ;  and 
it  was  as  much  as  any  or  all  their  heads  were  worth,  to  have 
treated  with  you  on  the  subject  of  submission  under  any  name 
whatever.  But  we  know  the  men  in  whom  we  have  trusted ; 
can  England  say  the  same  of  her  parliament  1 

I  come  now  more  particularly  to  your  proclamation  of  the 
30th  of  November  last.  Had  you  gained  an  entire  conquest 
over  all  the  armies  of  America,  and  then  put  forth  a  proclama- 
tion, offering  (what  you  call)  mercy,  your  conduct  would  have 
had  some  specious  show  of  humanity;  but  to  creep  by  surprise 
into  a  province,  and  there  endeavor  to  terrify  and  seduce  the 
inhabitants  from  their  just  allegiance  to  the  rest  by  promises, 
which  you  neither  meant,  ner  were  able  to  fulfil,  is  both  cruel 
and  unmanly :  cruel  in  its  effects ;  because,  unless  you  can  keep 
all  the  ground  you  have  marched  over,  how  are  you  in  the 
words  of  your  proclamation,  to  secure  to  your  proselytes  "  the 
enjoyment  of  their  property?"  What  is  to  become  of  your 
new  adopted  subjects,  or  your  old  friends,  the  tories,  in  Bur- 
lington, Bordentown,  Trenton,  Mountholly,  and  many  other 
places,  where  you  proudly  lorded  it  for  a  few  days,  and  then 
fled  with  the  precipitation  of  a  pursued  thief  ?  What,  I  say,  is 
to  become  of  those  wretches  ?  What  is  to  become  of  those  who 
went  over  to  you  from  this  city  and  state  ?  What  more  can 
you  say  to  them  "than  shift  for  yourselves?"  Or  what  more 
can  they  hope  for  than  to  wander  like  vagabonds  over  the  face 
of  the  earth  ?  You  may  now  tell  them  to  take  their  leave  of 
America,  and  all  that  once  was  theirs.  Recommend  them,  for 
consolation,  to  your  master's  court;  there  perhaps  they  may 
make  a  shift  to  live  on  the  scraps  of  some  dangling  parasite, 
and  choose  companions  among  thousands  like  themselves.  A 
traitor  is  the  foulest  fiend  on  earth. 

In  a  political  sense  we  ought  to  thank  you  for  thus  bequeath- 
ing estates  to  the  continent;  we  shall  soon,  at  this  rate  be  able 
to  carry  on  a  war  without  expense,  and  grow  rich  by  the  ill- 


THE   CRISIS.  67 

policy  of  Lord  Howe,  and  the  generous  defection  of  the  tories. 
Had  you  set  your  foot  into  this  c.ty,  you  would  have  bestowed 
estates  upon  us  which  we  never  thought  of,  by  bringing  forth 
traitors  we  were  unwilling  to  suspect.  But  these  men,  you'll 
say,  "are  his  majesty's  most  faithful  subjects;"  let  that  honor, 
then,  be  all  their  fortune,  and  let  his  majesty  take  them  to 
himself. 

I  am  now  thoroughly  disgusted  with  them;  they  live  in  un- 
grateful ease,  and  bend  their  whole  minds  to  mischief.  It  seems 
as  if  God  had  given  them  over  to  a  spirit  of  infidelity,  and  that 
they  are  open  to  conviction  in  no  other  line  but  that  of  punish- 
ment. It  is  time  to  have  done  with  tarring,  feathering,  carting 
and  taking  securities  for  their  future  good  behavior;  every 
sensible  man  must  feel  a  conscious  shame  at  seeing  a  poor  fel- 
low hawked  for  a  show  about  the  streets,  when  it  is  known  that 
he  is  only  the  tool  of  some  principal  villain,  biassed  into  his 
offence  by  the  force  of  false  reasoning,  or  bribed  thereto  through 
sad  necessity:  We  dishonor  ourselves  by  attacking  such  trifling 
characters  while  greater  ones  are  suffered  to  escape ;  'tis  our 
duty  to  find  them  out.  and  their  pi'oper  punishment  would  be 
to  exile  them  from  the  continent  forever.  The  circle  of  them 
is  not  so  great  as  some  imagine;  the  influence  of  a  few  have 
tainted  many  who  are  not  naturally  corrupt.  A  continual  cir- 
culation of  lies  among  those  who  are  not  much  in  the  way  of 
hearing  them  contradicted,  will  in  time  pass  for  truth ;  and  the 
crime  lies  not  in  the  believer  but  the  inventor.  1  am  not  for 
declaring  war  with  every  man  that  appears  not  so  warm  as 
myself:  difference  of  constitution,  temper,  habit  of  speaking, 
and  many  other  things,  will  go  a  great  way  in  fixing  the  out- 
ward character  of  a  man,  yet  simple  honesty  may  remain  at  the 
bottom.  Some  men  have  naturally  a  military  turn,  and  can 
brav  e  hardships  and  the  risk  of  life  with  a  cheerful  face ;  others 
have  not ;  no  slavery  appears  to  them  so  great  as  the  fatigue  of 
arms,  and  no  terror  so  powerful  as  that  of  personal  danger. 
What  can  we  say  1  We  cannot  alter  nature,  neither  ought  we 
to  punish  the  son  because  the  father  begot  him  in  a  cowardly 
mood.  However,  I  believe  most  men  have  more  courage  than 
they  know  of,  and  that  a  little  at  first  is  enough  to  begin  with. 
I  knew  the  time  when  I  thought  that  the  whistling  of  a  cannon 
ball  would  have  frightened  me  almost  to  death :  but  I  have  since 
tried  it,  and  find  that  I  can  stand  it  with  as  little  discomposure, 
and,  I  believe,  with  a  much  easier  conscience  than  your  lord- 


68  THE  CRISIS. 

ship.  The  same  dread  would  return  to  me  again  were  I  in  your 
situation,  for  my  solemn  belief  of  your  cause  is,  that  it  is  hellish 
and  damnable,  and,  under  that  conviction,  every  thinking  man's 
heart  must  fail  him. 

From  a  concern  that  a  good  cause  should  be  dishonored  by 
the  least  disunion  among  us,  I  said  in  my  former  paper,  No.  1. 
"That  should  the  enemy  now  be  expelled,  I  wish  with  all  the 
sincerity  of  a  Christion,  that  the  names  of  whig  and  tory  might 
never  more  be  mentioned,"  but  there  is  a  knot  of  men  among  us 
of  such  a  venomous  cast,  that  they  will  not  admit  even  ouers 
good  wishes  to  act  in  their  favor.  Instead  of  rejoicing  that 
heaven  had,  as  it  were,  providentially  preserved  this  city  from 
plunder  and  destruction,  by  delivering  so  great  a  part  of  the 
enemy  into  our  hands  with  so  little  effusion  of  blood,  they  stub- 
bornly affected  to  disbelieve  it  till  within  an  hour,  nay,  half  an 
hour,  of  the  prisoners  arriving;  and  the  Quakers  put  forth  a 
testimony,  dated  the  20th  of  December,  signed  -'John  Pember- 
ton,"  declaring  their  attachment  to  the  British  government.* 
These  men  are  continually  harping  on  the  great  sin  of  our 
bearing  arms,  but  the  king  of  Britain  may  lay  waste  the  world 
in  blood  and  famine,  and  they,  poor  fallen  souls,  have  nothing 
to  say. 

In  some  future  paper,  I  intend  to  distinguish  between  the 
different  kind  of  persons  who  have  been  denominated  tories; 
for  this  I  am  clear  in,  that  all  are  not  so  who  have  been  called 
so,  nor  all  men  whigs  who  were  once  thought  so;  and  as  I  mean 
not  to  conceal  the  name  of  any  true  friend  when  there  shall  be 
occasion  to  mention  him,  neither  will  I  that  of  an  enemy,  who 
ought  to  be  known,  let  his  rank,  station,  or  religion  be  what  it 
may.  Much  pains  have  been  taken  by  some  to  set  your  lord- 
ship's private  character  in  an  amiable  light,  but  as  it  has  chiefly 
been  done  by  men  who  know  nothing  about  you,  and  who  are 
uo  ways  remarkable  for  their  attachment  to  us,  we  have  no  just 

*  I  have  ever  been  careful  of  charging  offences  upon  whole  societies  of 
men,  but  as  the  paper  referred  to  is  put  forth  by  an  unknown  set  of  men, 
who  claim  to  themselves  the  right  of  representing  the  whole  ;  and  while  the 
whole  society  of  Quakers  admit  its  validity,  by  silent  acknowledgment,  it  is 
Impossible  that  any  distinction  can  be  made  by  the  public :  and  the  more  so, 
because  the  New  York  paper  </'  *.he  30th  of  December,  printed  by  permission 
of  our  enemies,  says  that  *  the  Quakers  begin  to  speak  openly  of  their  attach- 
ment to  the  British  constitution. "  We  are  certain  that  we  have  many  friends 
among  them  and  we  wish  to  know  them. 


THE  CRISIS.  69 

authority  for  believing  it.  George  the  third  has  imposed  upon 
us  by  the  same  arts,  but  time,  at  length,  has  done  him  justice, 
and  the  same  fate  may  probably  attend  your  lordship.  Your 
avowed  purpose  here,  is  to  kill,  conquer,  plunder,  pardon,  and 
enslave;  and  the  ravages  of  your  army  through  the  Jerseys  have 
been  marked  with  as  much  barbarism  as  if  you  had  openly  pro- 
fessed yourself  the  prince  of  ruffians;  not  even  the  appeal ance 
of  humanity  has  been  preserved  either  on  the  march  or  the  re- 
treat of  your  troops;  no  general  order  that  I  could  ever  learn, 
has  ever  been  issued  to  prevent  or  even  forbid  your  troops  from 
robbery,  wherever  they  came,  and  the  only  instance  of  juslice, 
if  it  can  be  called  such,  which  has  distinguished  you  for  im- 
partiality, is,  that  you  treated  and  pundered  all  alike;  what 
could  not  be  carried  away  has  been  destroyed,  and  mahogany 
furniture  has  been  deliberately  laid  on  fire  for  fuel,  rather  than 
that  men  should  be  fatigued  with  cutting  wood.*  There  was  a 
time  when  the  whigs  confided  much  in  your  supposed  candor, 
and  the  tories  rested  themselves  in  your  favour;  the  experiments 
have  now  been  made,  and  failed;  in  every  town,  nay,  every 
cottage,  in  the  Jerseys,  where  your  arms  have  been,  is  a  testi- 
mony against  you.  How  you  may  rest  under  the  sacrifice  of 
character  I  know  not ;  but  this  I  know,  that  you  sleep  and  rise 
with  the  daily  curses  of  thousands  upon  you ;  perhaps  the  misery 
which  the  tories  have .  suffered  by  your  proffered  mercy,  may 
give  them  some  claim  to  their  country's  pity,  and  be  in  the  end 
the  best  favor  you  could  show  them. 

In  a  folio  general  order-book  belonging  to  Col.  Rhol's  bat- 
talion, taken  at  Trenton,  and  now  in  the  possession'  of  the  coun- 
cil of  safety  for  this  state,  the  following  barbarous  order  is  fre- 
quently repeated,  "  His  excellency  the  commander-in-chief, 
orders  that  all  inhabitants  who  shall  be  found  with  arms,  not 
having  an  officer  with  them,  shall  be  immediately  taken  and 
hung  up."  How  many  you  may  have  thus  privately  sacrificed, 
we  know  not,  and  the  account  can  only  be  settled  in  another 
world.  Your  treatment  of  prisoners,  in  order  to  distress  them 
to  enlist  in  your  infernal  service,  is  not  to  be  equalled  by  any 
instance  in  Europe.  Yet  this  is  the  humane  lord  Howe  and 

*  As  some  people  may  doubt  the  truth  of  such  wanton  destruction,  I  think 
it  necessary  to  inform  them,  that  one  of  the  people  called  Quakers,  who  lives 
at  Trenton,  gave  me  this  information  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Michael  Hutchin- 
Bon  (one  of  the  same  profession),  who  lives  near  Trenton  ferry  on  the  ijeun- 
•ylvania  side,  Mr.  Hutchinson  being  present. 


70  THE  CRISIS. 

his  brother,  whom  the  tories  and  their  three-quarter  kindred, 
the  Quakers,  or  some  of  them  at  least,  have  been  holding  up  for 
patterns  of  justice  and  mercy! 

A  bad  cause  will  ever  be  supported  by  bad  means  and  bad 
men;  and  whoever  will  be  at  the  pains  of  examining  strictly 
into  things,  will  find  that  one  and  the  same  spirit  of  oppression 
and  impiety,  more  or  less,  governs  through  your  whole  party  in 
both  countries :  not  many  days  ago  I  accidentally  fell  in  company 
with  a  person  of  this  city  noted  for  espousing  your  cause,  and 
on  my  remarking  to  him,  "  that  it  appeared  clear  to  me,  by  the 
late  providential  turn  of  affairs,  that  God  Almighty  was  visibly 
on  our  side,"  he  replied,  "  We  care  nothing  for  that,  you  may 
have  Him,  and  welcome ;  if  we  have  but  enough  of  the  devil 
on  our  side,  we  shall  do."  However  carelessly  this  might  have 
been  spoken,  matters  not,  'tis  still  the  insensible  principle  that 
directs  all  your  conduct,  and  will  at  last  most  assuredly  deceive 
and  ruin  you. 

If  ever  a  nation  was  mad  or  foolish,  blind  to  its  own  interest 
and  bent  on  its  own  destruction,  it  is  Britain.  There  are  such 
things  as  national  sins, and  though  the  punishment  of  individuals 
may  be  reserved  to  another  world,  national  punishment  can  only 
be  inflicted  in  this  world.  Britain,  as  a  nation,  is,  in  my  in- 
most belief,  the  greatest  and  most  ungrateful  offender  against 
God  on  the  face  of  the  whole  earth;  blessed  with  all  the  com- 
merce she  could  have  wished  for,  and  furnished,  by  a  vast  ex- 
tension of  dominion,  with  the  means  of  civilizing  both  the 
eastern  and  western  world,  she  has  made  no  other  use  of  both 
than  proudly  to  idolize  her  own  "thunder,"  and  rip  up  the 
bowels  of  whole  countries  for  what  she  could  get.  Like 
Alexander,  she  has  made  war  her  sport,  and  inflicted  misery 
for  prodigality's  sake.  The  blood  of  India  is  not  yet  repaid, 
nor  the  wretchedness  of  Africa  yet  requited.  Of  late  she  has 
enlarged  her  list  of  national  cruelties,  by  her  butcherly  de- 
struction of  the  Caribbs  of  St.  Vincent's,  and  returning  an 
answer  by  the  sword  to  the  meek  prayer  for  "Peace,  liberty  and 
safety  "  These  are  serious  things,  and  whatever  a  foolish  tyrant, 
a  debauched  court,  a  trafficking  legislature,  or  a  blinded  people 
may  think,  the  national  account  with  heaven  must  some  day 
or  other  be  settled;  all  countries  have  sooner  or  later  been 
called  to  their  reckoning;  the  proudest  empires  have  sunk  when 
the  balance  was  struck;  and  Britain,  like  an  individual  peni- 
tent must  undergo  her  day  of  sorrow,  and  the  sooner  it  happens 


THE  CRISIS.  71 

to  her  the  better:  as  I  wish  it  over,  I  wish  it  to  come,  but  withal 
wish  that  it  may  be  as  light  as  possible. 

Perhaps  your  lordship  has  no  taste  for  serious  things;  by 
your  connections  with  England  I  should  suppose  not :  therefore 
I  shall  drop  this  part  of  the  subject,  and  take  it  up  in  a  line  in 
which  you  will  better  understand  me. 

By  what  means,  may  I  ask,  do  you  expect  to  conquer  America  ? 
If  you  could  not  affect  it  in  the  summer,  when  our  army  was 
less  than  yours,  nor  in  the  winter,  when  we  had  none,  how  are 
you  to  do  it  1  In  point  of  generalship  you  have  been  outwitted, 
and  in  point  of  fortitude  outdone;  your  advantages  turn  out  to 
your  loss,  and  show  us  that  it  is  in  our  power  to  ruin  you  by 
gifts:  like  a  game  of  drafts,  we  can  move  out  of  one  square  to 
let  you  come  in,  in  order  that  we  may  afterwards  take  two  or 
three  for  one:  and  as  we  can  always  keep  a  double  corner  for 
ourselves,  we  can  always  prevent  a  total  defeat.  You  cannot 
be  so  insensible,  as  not  to  see  that  we  have  two  to  one  the  advant- 
age of  you,  because  we  conquer  by  a  drawn  game,  and  you  lose 
by  it.  Burgoyne  might  have  taught  your  lordship  this  know- 
ledge; he  has  been  long  a  student  in  the  doctrine  of  chances. 

I  have  no  other  idea  of  conquering  countries  than  by  sub- 
duing the  armies  which  defend  them :  have  you  done  this,  or 
can  you  do  it?  If  you  have  not,  it  would  be  civil  in  you  to  let 
your  proclamations  alone  for  the  present;  otherwise,  you  will 
ruin  more  tories  by  your  grace  and  favor,  than  you  will  whigs 
by  your  arms. 

Were  you  to  obtain  possession  of  this  city,  you  would  not 
know  what  to  do  with  it  more  than  to  plunder  it.  To  hold  it 
in  the  manner  you  hold  New  York,  would  be  an  additional 
dead  weight  upon  your  hands:  and  if  a  general  conquest  is 
your  object,  you  had  better  be  without  the  city  than  with  it. 
When  you  have  defeated  all  our  armies,  the  cities  will  fall  into 
your  hands  of  themselves ;  but  to  creep  into  them  in  the  manner 
you  got  into  Princeton,  Trenton,  etc.,  is  like  robbing  an  orchard 
in  the  night  before  the  fruit  be  ripe,  and  running  away  in  the 
morning.  Your  experiment  in  the  Jerseys  is  sufficient  to  teach 
you  that  you  have  something  more  to  do  than  barely  to  get  into 
other  people's  houses;  and  your  new  converts,  to  whom  you 
promised  all  manner  of  protection,  and  seduced  into  new  guilt 
by  pardoning  them  for  their  former  virtues,  must  begin  to  have 
a  very  contemptible  opinion  both  of  your  power  and  your  policy. 
Your  authority  in  the  Jerseys  is  now  reduced  to  the  small  circle 


72  THB   CRISIS. 

which  your  army  occupies,  and  your  proclamatipn  is  no  where 
else  seen  unless  it  be  to  be  laughed  at.  The  mighty  subduers 
of  the  continent  have  retreated  into  a  nut-shell,  and  the  proud 
f orgivers  of  our  sins  have  fled  from  those  they  came  to  pardon  • 
and  all  this  at  a  time  when  they  were  despatching  vessel  aftei 
vessel  to  England  with  the  great  news  of  every  day.  In  short, 
you  have  managed  your  Jersey  expedition  so  very  dexterously, 
that  the  dead  only  are  conquerors,  because  none  will  dispute 
^he  ground  with  them. 

In  all  the  wars  which  you  have  formerly  been  concerned  in, 
you  had  only  armies  to  contend  with ;  in  this  case  you  have  both 
an  army  and  a  country  to  combat  with.  In  former  wars,  the 
countries  followed  the  fate  of  their  capitals;  Canada  fell  with 
Quebec,  and  Minorca  with  Port  Mahon  or  St.  Phillips ;  by  sub- 
duing those,  the  conquerors  opened  a  way  into,  and  became 
masters  of  the  country ;  here  it  is  otherwise ;  if  you  get  possess- 
ion of  a  city  here,  you  are  obliged  to  shut  yourselves  up  in  it, 
and  can  make  no  other  use  of  it,  than  to  spend  your  country's 
money  in.  This  is  all  the  advantage  you  have  drawn  from  New 
York  ;  and  you  would  draw  less  from  Philadelphia,  because  it 
requires  more  force  to  keep  it,  and  is  much  further  from  the  sea. 
A  pretty  figure  you  and  the  tories  would  cut  in  this  city,  with 
a  river  full  of  ice,  and  a  town  full  of  fire;  for  the  immediate 
consequence  of  your  getting  here  would  be,  that  you  would  be 
cannonaded  out  again,  and  the  tories  be  obliged  to  make  good 
the  damage ,  and  this  sooner  or  later  will  be  the  fate  of  New 
York. 

I  wish  to  see  the  city  saved,  not  so  much  from  military  as 
from  natural  motives.  'Tis  the  hiding  place  of  women  and 
children,  and  lord  Howe's  proper  business  is  with  our  armies. 
When  I  put  all  the  circumstances  together  which  ought  to  be 
taken,  I  laugh  at  your  notion  of  conquering  America.  Because 
you  lived  in  a  little  country,  where  an  army  might  run  over  the 
•whole  in  a  few  days,  and  where  a  single  company  of  soldiers 
might  put  a  multitude  to  the  rout,  you  expected  to  find  it  the 
same  here.  It  is  plain  that  you  brought  over  with  you  all  the 
narrow  notions  you  were  bred  up  with,  and  imagined  that  a 
proclamation  in  the  king's  name  was  to  do  great  things ;  but 
Englishmen  always  travel  for  knowledge,  and  your  lordship,  I 
hope,  will  return,  if  you  return  at  all,  much  wiser  than  you 
came. 

We  may  be  surprised  by  events  we  did  not  expect  and  in  that 


THE   CRISIS.  73 

interval  of  recollection  you  may  gain  some  temporary  advantage; 
such  was  the  case  a  few  weeks  ago,  but  we  soon  ripen  again 
into  reason,  collect  our  strength,  and  while  you  are  preparing 
for  a  triumph,  we  come  upon  you  with  a  defeat.  Such  it  has 
been,  and  such  it  would  be  were  you  to  try  it  a  hundred  times 
over.  Were  you  to  garrison  the  places  you  might  march  over, 
in  order  to  secure  their  subjection  (for  remember  you  can  do  it 
by  no  other  means),  your  army  would  be  like  a  stream  of  water 
running  to  nothing.  By  the  time  you  extended  from  New  York 
to  Virginia,  you  would  be  reduced  to  a  string  of  drops  not 
capable  of  hanging  together ;  while  we,  by  retreating  from  state 
to  state,  like  a  river  turning  back  upon  itself,  would  acquire 
strength  in  the  same  proportion  as  you  lost  it,  and  in  the  end 
be  capable  of  overwhelming  you.  The  country,  in  the  mean- 
time, would  suffer,  but  it  is  a  day  of  suffering,  and  we  ought  to 
expect  it.  What  we  contend  for  is  worthy  the  affliction  we 
may  go  through.  If  we  get  but  bread  to  eat,  and  any  kind  of 
raiment  to  put  on,  we  ought  not  only  to  be  contented,  but  thank- 
ful. More  than  that  we  ought  not  to  look  for,  and  less  than 
that  heaven  has  not  yet  suffered  us  to  want.  He  that  would 
sell  his  birthright  for  a  little  salt,  is  as  worthless  as  he  who  sold 
it  for  porridge  without  salt.  And  he  that  would  part  with  it 
for  a  gay  coat,  or  a  plain  coat,  ought  for  ever  to  be  a  slave  in 
buff.  What  are  salt,  sugar  and  finery,  to  the  inestimable 
blessings  of  "Liberty  and  safety!"  Or  what. are  the  incon- 
veniences of  a  few  months  to  the  tributary  bondage  of  ages  1 
The  meanest  peasant  in  America,  blest  with  these  sentiments, 
is  a  happy  man  compared  with  a  New  York  tory ;  he  can  eat 
his  morsel  without  repining,  and  when  he  has  done,  can  sweeten 
it  with  a  repast  of  wholesome  air:  he  can.  take  his  child  by  the 
hand  and  bless  it,  without  feeling  the  conscious  shame  of  neg- 
lecting a  parent's  duty. 

In  publishing  these  remarks  I  have  several  objects  in  view. 

On  your  part  they  are  to  expose  the  folly  of  your  pretended 
authoi'ity  as  a  commissioner;  the  wickedness  of  your  cause  in 
general ;  and  the  impossibility  of  your  conquering  us  at  any 
rate.  On  the  part  of  the  public,  my  intention  is,  to  show  them 
their  true  and  solid  interest;  to  encourage  them  to  their  own 
good,  to  remove  the  fears  and  falsities  which  bad  men  have 
spread,  and  weak  men  have  encouraged;  and  to  excite  in  all 
men  a  love  for  union,  and  a  cheerfulness  for  duty. 

I  shall  submit  one  more  case  to  you  respecting  your  conquest 


74  THE  CRISIS. 

of  this  country,  and  then  proceed  to  new  observations.  Sup- 
pose our  armies  in  every  part  of  this  continent  were  immediately 
to  disperse,  every  man  to  his  home,  or  where  else  he  might  be 
safe,  and  engage  to  re-assemble  again  on  a  certain  future  day ; 
it  is  clear  that  you  would  then  have  no  army  to  contend  with, 
yet  you  would  be  as  much  at  a  loss  in  that  case  as  you  are  now ; 
you  would  be  afraid  to  send  your  troops  in  parties  over  the 
continent,  either  to  disarm  or  prevent  us  from  assembling,  lest 
they  should  not  return;  and  while  you  kept  them  together, having 
no  army  of  ours  to  dispute  with,  you  could  not  call  it  a  conquest;' 
you  might  furnish  out  a  pompous  page  in  the  London  Gazette 
or  a  new  New  York  paper,  but  when  we  returned  at  the  ap- 
pointed time,  you  would  have  the  same  work  to  do  that  you  had 
at  first 

It  has  been  the  folly  of  Britain  to  suppose  herself  more 
powerful  than  she  really  is,  and  by  that  means  has  arrogated  to 
herself  a  rank  in  the  world  she  is  not  entitled  to ;  for  more  than 
this  century  past  she  has  not  been  able  to  carry  on  a,  war  without 
foreign  assistance.  Marlborough's  campaigns,  and  t>o.m  that 
day  to  this,  the  number  of  German  troops  and  officers  twisting 
her  have  been  about  equal  with  her  own;  ten  thousand  3  Cossians 
were  sent  to  England  last  war  to  protect  her  from  a  French 
invasion;  and  she  would  have  cut  but  a  poor  linn  re  in  her 
Canadian  and  West-Indian  expeditions,  had  not  America  been 
lavish  both  of  her  money  and  men  to  help  her  along.  The  only 
instance  in  wliich  she  was  engaged  singly,  that  I  can  recollect, 
was  against  the  rebellion  in  Scotland,  in  the  year  1 743  and  1 74G, 
and  in  that,  out  of  three  battles,  she  was  twice  beaten,  till  by 
thus  reducing  their  numbers  (as  we  shall  yours),  and  talcing  a 
supply  ship  that  was  coming  to  Scotland  with  clothes,  arms  and 
money  (as  we  have  often  done),  she  was  at  last  enabled  to  de- 
feat them.  England  was  never  famous  by  land;  her  officers 
have  generally  been  suspected  of  cowardice,  have  more  of  the 
air  of  a  dancing-master  than  a  soldier,  and  by  the  samples  which 
we  have  taken  prisoners,  we  give  the  preference  to  ourselves. 
Her  strength,  of  late,  has  lain  in  her  extravagance ;  but  as  her 
finances  and  credit  are  now  low,  her  sinews  in  that  line  begin  to 
fail  fast..  As  a  nation  she  is  the  poorest  in  Europe ;  for  were 
the  whole  kingdom,  and  all  that  is  in  it,  to  be  put  up  for  sale 
like  the  estate  of  a  bankrupt,  it  would  not  fetch  as  much  as  she 
owes ;  yet  this  thoughtless  wretch  must  go  to  war,  and  with  the 
avowed  design,  too,  of  making  us  beasts  of  burden,  to  support 


THE   CRISIS.  75 

her  in  riot  and  debauchery,  and  to  assist  her  afterwards  in 
distressing  those  nations  who  are  now  our  best  friends.  This 
ingratitude  may  suit  a  tory,  or  the  unchristian  peevishness  of  a 
fallen  Quaker,  but  none  else. 

Tis  the  unhappy  temper  of  the  English  to  be  pleassd  with 
any  war,  right  or  wrong,  be  it  but  successful;  but  they  soon 
grow  discontented  with  ill-fortune,  and  it  is  an  even  chance 
that,  they  are  as  clamorous  for  peace  next  summer,  as  the  king 
and  his  ministers  were  for  war  last  winter.  In  this  natiiral 
view  of  lit  Ings,  your  lordship  stands  in  a  very  critical  situation: 
your  whole  character  is  now  staked  upon  your  laurels;  if  they 
wit-hcr,  you  will  wither  with  them;  if  they  flourish,  you  cannot 
hvi-  lorij;  to  look  at  them;  and  at  any  rate,  the  black  account 
hereafter  is  not  far  off.  What  lately  appeared  to  us  misfor- 
tunes, were  only  blessings  in  disguise;  and  the  seeming  advan- 
tages on  your  side  have  turned  out  to  our  profit.  Even  our 
lo.vi  of  this  city,  as  far  as  we  can  see  might  be  a  principal  gain 
to  us:  the  mure  surface  you  spread  over,  the  thinner  you  will 
bo,  and  tho  easier  wiped  away ;  and  our  consolation  under  that 
apparent  disaster  would  be,  that  the  estates  of  the  tories  would 
become  securities  for  the  repairs.  In  short,  there  is  no  old 
ground  we  can  fail  upon,  but  some  new  foundation  rises  again 
to  support  us.  "  We  have  put,  sir,  our  hands  to  the  plow, 
and  cur  sod  be  he  that  looketh  back." 

Your  king,  in  his  speech  to  parliament  last  spring,  declared, 
"That  ho  L'id  no  doubt  but  the  great  force  they  had  enabled 
him  to  Sv,ud  to  America,  would  effectually  reduce  the  rebellious 
colonies."  It  has  not,  neither  can  it;  but  it  has  done  just 
enough  to  1  «y  the  foundation  of  its  own  next  year's  ruin.  You 
are  sunoible  that  you  left  England  in  a  divided,  distracted  state 
of  politics,  and,  by  the  command  you  had  there,  you  became 
the  principal  prop  of  the  court  party;  their  fortunes  rest  on 
yours;  by  a  single  express  you  can  fix  their  value  with  the  pub- 
lic, and  the  degree  to  which  their  spirits  shall  rise  and  fall ;  they 
are  in  your  hands  as  stock,  and  you  have  the  secret  of  the  alley 
with  you.  Thus  situated  and  connected,  you  become  the  unin- 
tentional mechanical  instrument  of  your  own  and  their  over- 
throw. The  king  and  his  ministers  put  conquest  out  of  doubt, 
and  the  credit  of  both  depended  on  the  proof.  To  support 
them  in  the  interim,  it  was  necessary  that  you  should  make  the 
most  of  everything,  and'  we  can  tell  by  Hugh  Gaine's  New 
York  paper  what  the  complexion  of  the  London  Gazette  is. 


76  THE  CRISIS. 

With  such  a  list  of  victories  the  nation  cannot  expect  you  will 
ask  new  supplies;  and  confess  your  want  of  them,  would  give 
the  lie  to  your  triumphs,  and  impeach  the  king  and  his  minis- 
ters of  treasonable  deception.  If  you  make  the  necessary 
demand  at  home,  your  party  sinks;  if  you  .make  it  not,  you 
sink  yourself;  to  ask  it  now  is  too  late,  and  to  ask  it  before 
was  too  soon,  and  unless  it  arrive  quickly  will  be  of  no  use. 
In  short,  the  part  you  have  to  act,  cannot  be  acted ;  and  I  am  fully 
persuaded  that  all  you  have  to  trust  to  is,  to  do  the  best  you  can 
with  what  force  you  have  got,  or  little  more.  Though  we  have 
greatly  exceeded  you  in  point  of  generalship  and  bravery  of 
men,  yet,  as  a  people  we  have  not  entered  into  the  full  soul  of 
enterprise;  for  I,  who  know  England  and  the  disposition  of  the 
people  well,  am  confident,  that  it  is  easier  for  us  to  effect  a  rev- 
olution there  than  a  conquest  here ;  a  few  thousand  men  landed 
in  England  with  the  declared  design  of  deposing  the  present 
king,  bringing  his  ministers  to  trial,  and  setting  up  the  Duke 
of  Gloucester  in  his  stead,  would  assuredly  carry  their  point, 
while  you  were  grovelling  here  ignorant  of  the  matter.  As  I 
send  all  my  papers  to  England,  this  like  "Common  Sense,"  will 
find  its  way  there;  and  though  it  may  put  one  party  on  their 
guard,  it  will  inform  the  other,  and  the  nation  in  general,  of 
our  design  to  help  them. 

Thus  far,  sir,  I  have  endeavored  to  give  you  a  picture  of  pres- 
ent affairs:  you  may  draw  from  it  what  conclusions  you 
please.  I  wish  as  well  to  the  true  prosperity  of  England  as 
you  can,  but  I  consider  INDEPENDENCE  America's  natural  right 
and  interest,  and  I  never  could  see  any  real  disservice  it  would 
be  to  Britain.  If  an  English  merchant  receives  an  order,  and 
is  paid  for  it,  it  signifies  nothing  to  him  who  governs  the  coun- 
try. This  is  my  creed  of  politics.  If  I  have  anywhere  ex- 
pressed myself  over-warmly,  'tis  from  a  fixed,  immovable  hatred 
1  have,  and  ever  had,  to  cruel  men  and  cruel  measures.  I 
have  likewise  an  aversion  to  monarchy,  as  being  too  debasing 
to  the  dignity  of  man;  but  I  never  troubled  others  with  my 
notions  till  very  lately,  nor  ever  published  a  syllable  in  Eng 
land  in  my  life.  What  I  write  is  pure  nature,  and  my  pen 
arid  my  soul  have  ever  gone  together.  My  writings  I  have 
always  given  away,  reserving  only  the  expense  of  printing  and 
paper,  and  sometimes  not  even  that.  I  never  courted  either 
fame  or  interest,  and  my  manner  of  life,  to  those  who  know  it, 
will  justify  what  I  say.  My  study  is  to  be  useful,  and  if  your 


THE  CRISIS.  77 

lordship  loves  mankind  as  well  as  I  do,  you  -would,  seeing  you 
cannot  conquer  us,  cast  about  and  lend  your  hand  towards  accom- 
plishing a  peace.  Our  independence,  with  God's  blessing,  we 
will  maintain  against  all  the  world;  but  as  we  wish  to  avoid 
evil  ourselves,  we  wish  not  to  inflict  it  on  others.  I  am  never 
over-inquisitive  into  the  secrets  of  the  cabinet,  but  I  have  some 
notion,  that  if  you  neglect  the  present  opportunity,  that  it  will 
not  bft  in  our  power  to  make  a  separate  peace  with  you  after- 
wards; for  whatever  treaties  or  alliances  we  form,  we  shall 
most  faithfully  abide  by ;  wherefore  you  may  be  deceived  if  you 
think  you  can  make  it  with  us  at  any  time.  A  lasting,  inde- 
pendent peace  is  my  wish,  end,  and  aim;  and  to  accomplish  that, 
"/  pray  God  the  Americans  may  never  be  defeated,  and  1  trust 
while  they  have  good  officers,  and  are  well  commanded,"  and  will- 
ing to  be  commanded,  "that  they  NEVER  WILL  BE." 

COMMON  SENSE. 
PHILADELPHIA,  Jan.  13, 1777, 


NUMBER  IIL 

IN  the  progress  of  politics,  as  in  the  common  occurrences  of 
life,  we  are  not  only  apt  to  forget  the  ground  we  have  travelled 
over,  but  frequently  neglect  to  gather  up  experience  as  we  go. 
We  expend,  if  I  may  so  say,  the  knowledge  of  every  day  on  the 
circumstances  that  produce  it,  and  journey  on  in  search  of  new 
matter  and  new  refinements:  but  as  it  is  pleasant  and  sometimes 
useful  to  look  back,  even  to  the  first  periods  of  infancy,  and 
trace  the  turns  and  windings  through  which  we  have  passed,  so 
we  may  likewise  derive  many  advantages  by  halting  a  while  in 
.our  political  career,  and  taking  a  review  of  the  wondrous  com- 
plicated labyrinth  of  little  more  than  yesterday. 

Truly  may  we  say,  that  never  did  men  grow  old  in  so  short  a 
time !  We  have  crowded  the  business  of  an  age  into  the  com- 
pass of  a  few  months,  and  have  been  driven  through  such  a 
rapid  succession  of  things,  that  for  the  want  of  leisure  to  think, 
we  unavoidably  wasted  knowledge  as  we  came,  and  have  left 
nearly  as  much  behind  us  as  we  brought  with  us :  but  the  road 
is  yet  rich  with  the  fragments,  and,  before  we  fully  lose  sight 
of  them,  will  repay  ua  for  the  trouble  of  stopping  to  pick 
them  up. 

Were  a  man  to  be  totally  deprived  of  memory,  he  would  be 


78  THE  CRISIS^ 

incapable  of  forming  any  just  opinion ;  everything  about  him 
would  seem  a  chaos;  he  would  have  even  his  own  history  to 
ask  from  every  one :  and  by  not  knowing  how  the  world  went 
in  his  absence,  he  would  be  at  a  loss  to  know  how  it  ought  to 
go  on  when  he  recovered,  or  rather,  returned  to  it  again.  In 
like  manner,  though  in  a  less  degree,  a  too  great  inattention  to 
past  occurrences  retards  and  bewilders  our  judgment  in  every 
thing;  while,  on  the  contrary,  by  comparing  what  is  past  with 
what  is  present,  we  frequently  hit  on  the  true  character  of  both, 
and  become  wise  with  very  little  trouble.  It  is  a  kind  of  coun- 
ter-march, by  which  we  get  into  the  rear  of  time,  and  mark  the 
movements  and  meaning  of  things  as  we  make  our  return. 
There  are  certain  circumstances,  which,  at  the  time  of  their  hap- 
pening, are  a  kind  of  riddles,  and  as  every  riddle  is  to  be  fol- 
lowed by  its  answer,  so  those  kind  of  circumstances  will  be  fol- 
lowed by  their  events,  and  those  events  are  always  the  true 
solution.  A  considerable  space  of  time  nay  lapse  between,  and 
unless  we  continue  our  observations  from  the  one  to  the  other, 
the  harmony  of  them  will  pass  away  unnoticed;  but  the  misfor- 
tune is,  that  partly  from  the  pressing  necessity  of  some  instant 
things,  and  partly  from  the  impatience  of  our  own  tempei's,  we 
are  frequently  in  such  a  hurry  to  make  out  the  meaning  of 
everything  as  fast  as  it  happens,  that  we  thereby  never  truly 
understand  it;  and  not  only  start  new  difficulties  to  ourselves 
by  so  doing,  but,  as  it  were,  embarrass  Providence  in  her  good 
designs. 

I  have  been  civil  in  stating  this  fault  on  a  large  scale,  for,  as 
it  now  stands,  it  does  not  appear  to  be  levelled  against  any  par- 
ticular set  of  men;  but  were  it  to  be  refined  a  little  further,  it 
might  afterwards  be  applied  to  the  tories  with  a  degree  of 
striking  propriety;  those  men  have  been  remarkable  for  draw- 
ing sudden  conclusions  from  single  facts.  The  least  apparent 
mishap  on  our  side,  or  the  least  seeming  advantage  on  the  part 
of  the  enemy,  have  determined  with  them  the  fate  of  a  whole 
campaign.  By  this  hasty  judgment  they  have  converted  a  re- 
treat into  a  defeat;  mistook  generalship  for  error  ;  while  every 
little  advantage  purposely  given  the  enemy,  either  to  weaken 
their  strength  by  dividing  it,  embarrass  their  councils  by  mul- 
tiplying their  objects,  or  to  secure  a  greater  post  by  the  sur- 
render of  a  less,  has  been  instantly  magnified  into  a  conquest. 
Thus,  by  quartering  ill  policy  upon  ill  principles,  they  have  fre- 
quently promoted  the  cause  they  have  designed  to  injure,  and 


THE  CRISIS.  79 

injured  that  which  they  intended  to  promote.  It  is  probable 
the  campaign  may  open  before  this  number  comes  from  the 
press.  The  enemy  have  long  lain  idle,  and  amused  themselves 
with  carrying  on  the  war  by  proclamations  only.  While  they 
continue  their  delay  our  strength  increases,  and  were  they  to 
move  to  action  now,  it  is  a  circumstantial  proof  that  they  have 
no  reinforcement  coming;  wherefore,  in  either  case,  the  com- 
parative advantage  will  be  ours.  Like  a  wounded,  disabled 
whale,  they  want  only  time  and  room  to  die  in ;  and  though  in 
the  agony  of  their  exit,  it  may  be  unsafe  to  live  within  the 
flapping  of  their  tail,  yet  every  hour  shortens  their  date,  and 
lessens  their  power  of  mischief.  If  anything  happens  while 
this  number  is  in  the  press,  it  will  afford  me  a  subject  for  the 
last  pages  of  it.  At  present  I  am  tired  of  waiting;  and  as 
neither  the  enemy  nor  the  state  of  politics  have  yet  produced 
anything  new,  I  am  thereby  left  in  the  field  of  general  matter, 
undirected  by  any  striking  or  particular  object.  This  Crisis, 
therefore,  will  be  made  up  rather  of  variety  than  novelty,  and 
consist  more  of  things  useful  than  things  wonderful. 

The  success  of  the  cause,  the  union  of  the  people,  and  the 
means  of  supporting  and  securing  both,  are  points  which  can- 
not be  too  much  attended  to.  He  who  doubts  of  the  former  is 
a  desponding  coward,  and  he  who  wilfully  disturbs  the  latter  is 
a  traitor.  Their  characters  are  easily  fixed,  and  under  these 
short  descriptions  I  leave  them  for  the  present. 

One  of  the  greatest  degrees  of  sentimental  union  which 
America  ever  knew,  was  in  denying  the  right  of  the  British 
parliament  "  to  bind  the  colonies  in  all  cases  whatsoever."  The 
declaration  is,  in  its  form,  an  almighty  one,  and  is  the  loftiest 
stretch  of  arbitrary  power  that  ever  one  set  of  men,  or  one  coun- 
try claimed  over  another.  Taxation  was  nothing  more  than  the 
putting  the  declared  right  into  practice;  and  this  failing,  re- 
course was  had  to  arms,  as  a  means  to  establish  both  the  right 
and  the  practice,  or  to  answer  a  worse  purpose,  which  will  be 
mentioned  in  the  course  of  this  number.  And  in  order  to  repay 
themselves  the  expense  of  an  army,  and  to  profit  by  their  own 
injustice,  the  colonies  were,  by  another  law,  declared  to  be  in  a 
state  of  actual  rebellion,  and  of  consequence  all  property  there- 
in would  fall  to  the  conquerors. 

The  colonies,  on  their  part,  first  denied  the  right;  secondly. 
they  suspended  the  use  of  taxable  articles,  and  petitioned 
against  the  practice  of  taxation :  and  these  failing,  they,  thirdly, 


80  THE  CKISIS. 

defended  their  property  by  force,  as  soon  as  it  was  forcibly  in- 
vaded, and  in  answer  to  the  declaration  of  rebellion  and  non- 
protection,  published  their  declaration  of  independence  and 
right  of  self -protection. 

These,  in  a  few  words,  are  the  different  stages  of  the  quarrel ; 
and  the  parts  are  so  intimately  and  necessarily  connected  with 
each  other  as  to  admit  of  no  separation.  A  person,  to  use  a 
trite  phrase,  must  be  a  whig  or  a  tory  in  the  lump.  His  feel- 
ings, as  a  man,  may  be  wounded;  his  charity,  as  a  Christian, 
may  be  moved;  but  his  political  principles  must  go  through  all 
the  cases  on  one  side  or  the  other.  He  cannot  be  a  whig  in  this 
stage,  and  a  tory  in  that.  If  he  says  he  is  against  the  united 
independence  of  the  continent,  he  is  to  all  intents  and  purposes 
against  her  in  all  the  rest;  because  this  last  comprehends  the 
whole.  And  he  may  just  as  well  say,  that  Britain  was  right  in 
declaring  us  rebels;  right  in  taxing  us;  and  right  in  declaring 
her  "  right  to  bind  the  colonies  in  all  cases  whatsoever."  It  sig- 
nifies nothing  what  neutral  ground,  of  his  own  creating,  he  may 
skulk  upon  for  shelter,  for  the  quarrel  in  no  stage  of  it  hath 
afforded  any  such  ground;  and  either  we  or  Britain  are  abso- 
lutely right  or  absolutely  wrong  through  the  whole. 

Britain,  like  a  gamester  nearly  ruined,  hath  now  put  all  her 
losses  into  one  bet,  and  is  playing  a  desperate  game  for  the  total. 
If  she  wins  it,  she  wins  from  me  my  life ;  she  wins  the  conti- 
nent as  the  forfeited  property  of  rebels;  the  right  of  taxing 
those  that  are  left  as  reduced  subjects;-  and  the  power  of  bind- 
ing them  slaves;  and  the  single  die  which  determines  this  un- 
paralleled event  is,  whether  we  support  our  independence  or 
she  overturn  it.  This  is  coming  to  the  point  at  once.  Here  is 
the  touchstone  to  try  men  by.  He  tJiat  is  not  a  supporter  of  the 
independent  states  of  America,  in  the  same  degree  that  his  re- 
ligious and  political  principles  would  suffer  him  to  support  the 
government  of  any  other  country,  of  which  he  called  himself  a 
subject,  is,  in  the  American  sense  of  the  word,  A  TORY;  and  the 
instant  that  he  endeavors  to  bring  his  tory  ism,  into  practice,  he 
becomes  A  TRAITOR.  The  first  can  only  be  detected  by  a  general 
test,  and  the  law  hath  already  provided  for  the  latter. 

It  is  unnatural  and  impolitic  to  admit  men  who  would  root 
up  our  independence  to  have  anyshare  in  our  legislation,  either 
as  electors  or  representatives ;  because  the  support  of  our  inde- 
pendence rests,  in  a  great  measure,  on  the  vigor  and  purity  of 
our  public  bodies.  Would  Britain,  even  in  time  of  peace,  much 


THE  CRISIS.  81 

less  in  war,  suffer  an  election  to  be  carried  by  men  who  pro- 
fessed themselves  to  be  not  her  subjects,  or  allow  such  to  sit  in 
parliament  1  Certainly  not. 

But  there  are  a  certain  species  of  tories  with  whom  consci- 
ence or  principle  hath  nothing  to  do,  and  who  are  so  from 
avarice  only.  Some  of  the  first  fortunes  on  the  continent,  on 
the  part  of  the  whigs,  are  staked  on  the  issue  of  our  present 
measures.  And  shall  disaffection  only  be  rewarded  with 
security  1  Can  anything  be  a  greater  inducement  to  a  miserly 
man,  than  the  hope  of  making  his  mammon  safe1?  And  though 
the  scheme  be  fraught  with  every  character  of  folly,  yet,  so 
long  as  he  supposes,  that  by  doing  nothing  materially  criminal 
against  America  on  one  part,  and  by  expressing  his  private  dis- 
approbation against  independence,  as  palliative  with  the  enemy 
on  the  other  part,  he  stands  in  a  safe  line  between  both;  while, 
I  say,  this  ground  be  suffered  to  remain,  craft,  and  the  spirit  of 
avarice,  will  point  it  out,  and  men  will  not  be  wanting  to  fill 
up  this  most  contemptible  of  all  characters. 

These  men,  ashamed  to  own  the  sordid  cause  from  whence 
their  disaffection  springs,  add  thereby  meanness  to  meanness, 
by  endeavoring  to  shelter  themselves  under  the  mask  of  hypo- 
crisy ;  that  is,  they  had  rather  be  thought  to  be  tories  from  some 
kind  of  principle,  than  tories  by  having  no  principles  at  all. 
But  till  such  time  as  they  can  show  some  real  reason,  natural, 
political,  or  conscientious,  on  which  their  objections  to  indepen- 
dence are  founded,  we  are  not  obliged  to  give  them  credit  for 
being  tories  of  the  first  stamp,  but  must  set  them  down  as  tories 
of  the  last. 

In  the  second  number  of  the  Crisis  I  endeavored  to  show 
the  impossibility  of  the  enemy's  making  any  conquest  of 
America,  that  nothing  was  wanting  on  our  part  but  patience 
and  perseverance,  and  that,  with  these  virtues,  our  success,  as 
far  as  human  speculation  could  discern,  seemed  as  certain  as 
fate.  But  as  there  are  many  among  us,  who,  influenced  by 
others,  have  regularly  gone  back  from  the  principles  they  once 
held,  in  proportion  as  we  have  gone  forward;  and  as  it  is  the 
unfortunate  lot  of  many  a  good  man  to  live  within  the  neigh- 
borhood of  disaffected  ones;  I  shall,  therefore,  for  the  sake  of 
confirming  the  one  and  recovering  the  other,  endeavor,  in  the 
space  of  a  page  or  two,  to  go  over  some  of  the  leading  principles 
in  the  support  of  independence.  It  is  a  much  pleasanter  task 
to  prevent  vice  tkan  to  punish  it,  and,  however  our  tempers 
6 


82  THE  CBISIS 

may  be  gratified  by  resentment,  or  our  national  expenses  be 
eased  by  forfeited  estates,  harmony  and  friendship  is,  neverthe- 
less, the  happiest  condition  a  country  can  be  blest  with. 

The  principal  arguments  in  support  of  independence  may  be 
coiaprenended  under  the  four  following  heads. 

1st,  The  natural  right  of  the  continent  to  independence. 

2nd,  Her  interest  in  being  independent. 

3rd,  The  necessity, — and 

4th,  The  moral  advantages  arising  therefrom. 

1st,  The  natural  right  of  the  continent  to  independence,  is  ,-« 
point  which  never  yet  was  called  in  question.  It  will  not  e\  on 
admit  of  a  debate.  To  deny  such  a  right  would  be  a  kind  01 
atheism  against  nature:  and  the  best  answer  to  such  an  objec- 
tion would  be,  "  The  fool  hath  said  in  his  heart  there  is  no  God.' 

2nd,  The  interest  of  the  continent  in  being  independent  is  ;i 
point  as  clearly  right  as  the  former.  America,  by  her  own  in- 
ternal industry,  and  unknown  to  all  the  powers  of  Europe,  was, 
at  the  beginning  of  the  dispute,  arrived  at  a  pitch  of  greatness, 
trade  and  population,  beyond  which  it  was  the  interest  of 
Britain  not  to  suffer  her  to  pass,  lest  she  should  grow  too 
powerful  to  be  kept  subordinate.  She  began  to  view  this 
country  with  the  same  uneasy  malicious  eye,  with  which  a  cov- 
etous guardian  would  view  his  ward,  whose  estate  he  had  been 
enriching  himself  by  for  twenty  years,  and  saw  him  just  arriv- 
ing at  manhood.  And  America  owes  no  more  to  Britain  for 
her  present  maturity,  than  the  ward  would  to  the  guardian  for 
being  twenty-one  years  of  age.  That  America  hath  flourished 
at  the  time  she  was  under  the  government  of  Britain,  is  true; 
but  there  is  every  natural  reason  to  believe,  that  had  she  been 
an  independent  country  from  the  first  settlement  thereof,  un- 
controlled by  any  foreign  power,  free  to  make  her  own  laws, 
regulate  and  encourage  her  own  commerce,  she  had  by  this  time 
been  of  much  greater  worth  than  now.  The  case  is  simply  this : 
the  first  settlers  in  the  different  colonies  were  left  to  shift  for 
themselves,  unnoticed  and  unsupported  by  any  European  gov- 
ernment :  but  as  the  tyranny  and  persecution  of  the  old  world 
daily  drove  numbers  to  the  new,  and  as,  by  the  favor  of  heaven 
on  their  industry  and  perseverance,  they  grew  into  importance, 
so,  in  a  like  degree,  they  became  an  object  of  profit  to  the  greedy 
eves  of  Europe.  It  was  impossible,  in  this  state  of  infancy,  how- 
ever thriving  and  promising,  that  they  could  resist  the  power 
*'  any  armed  invader  that  should  seek  to  bring  them  under  his 


THE   CRISIS.  83 

authority.  In  this  situation  Britain  thought  it  worth  her  while 
to  claim  them,  and  the  continent  received  and  acknowledged 
the  claim er.  It  was,  in  reality,  of  no  very  great  importance 
who  was  her  master,  seeing,  that  from  the  force  and  ambition 
of  the  different  powers  of  Europe,  she  must,  till  she  acquired 
strength  enough  to  assert  her  own  right,  acknowledge  some  one. 
As  well,  perhaps,  Britain  as  another;  and  it  might  have  been 
as  well  to  have  been  under  the  states  of  Holland  as  any.  The 
same  hopes  of  engrossing  and  profiting  by  her  trade,  by  not 
oppressing  it  too  much,  would  have  operated  alike  with  any 
master,  and  produced  to  the  colonies  the  same  effects.  The 
clamor  of  protection,  likewise,  was  all  a  farce ;  because,  in  order 
to  make  that  protection  necessary,  she  must  first,  by  her  own 
quarrels,  create  us  enemies.  Hard  times  indeed  ! 

To  know  whether  it  be  the  interest  of  the  continent  to  be 
independent,  we  need  only  ask  this  easy,  simple  question  :  Is 
it  the  interest  of  a  man  to  be  a  boy  all  his  life  1  The  answer 
to  one  will  be  the  answer  to  both.  America  hath  been  one 
continued  scene  of  legislative  contention  from  the  first  king's 
representative  to  the  last;  and  this  was  unavoidably  founded 
in  the  natural  opposition  of  interest  between  the  old  country 
and  the  new.  A  governor  sent  from  England,  or  receiving  his 
authority  therefrom,  ought  never  to  have  been  considered  in 
any  other  light  than  that  of  a  genteel  commissioned  spy,  whose 
private  business  was  information,  and  his  public  business  a  kind 
of  civilized  oppression.  In  the  first  of  these  characters  he  was 
to  watch  the  tempers,  sentiments  and  dispositions  of  the  people, 
the  growth  of  trade,  and  the  increase  of  private  fortunes;  and, 
in  the  latter,  to  suppress  all  such  acts  of  the  assemblies,  how- 
ever beneficial  to  the  people,  which  did  not  directly  or  indirectly 
throw  some  increase  of  power  or  profit  into  the  hands  of  those 
that  sent  him. 

America,  till  now,  could  never  be  called  a  free  country,  be- 
cause her  legislation  depended  on  the  will  of  a  man  three 
thousand  miles  distant,  whose  interest  was  in  opposition  to  ours, 
and  who,  by  a  single  "  no,"  could  forbid  what  law  he  pleased. 

The  freedom  of  trade,  likewise,  is,  to  a  trading  country,  an 
article  of  such  importance,  that  the  principal  source  of  wealth 
depends  upon  it;  and  it  is  impossible  that  any  country  can 
flourish,  as  it  otherwise  might  do,  whose  commerce  is  engrossed, 
cramped  and  fettered  by  the  laws  and  mandates  of  another — 
yet  these  evils,  and  more  than  I  can  here  enumerate,  the  con- 


84  THE  CRISIS. 

tinent  has  suffered  by  being  under  the  government  of  England 
By  an  independence  we  clear  the  whole  at  once — put  an  end  t(> 
the  business  of  unanswered  petitions  and  fruitless  remonstrances 
— exchange  Britain  for  Europe — shake  hands  with  the  world 
— live  at  peace  with  the  world — and  trade  to  any  market  where 
we  can  buy  and  sell. 

3rd.  The  necessity,  likewise,  of  being  independent,  even  be 
fore  it  was  declared,  became  so  evident  and  important  that  the 
continent  ran  the  risk  of  being  ruined  every  day  that  she  delayed 
it.  There  was  reason  to  believe  that  Britain  would  endeavor 
to  make  an  European  matter  of  it,  and,  rather  than  lose  the 
whole,  would  dismember  it,  like  Poland,  and  dispose  of  her 
several  claims  to  the  highest  bidder.  Genoa,  failing  in  her 
attempts  to  reduce  Corsica,  made  a  sale  of  it  to  the  French, 
and  such  traffics  have  been  common  in  the  old  world.  We  had 
at  that  time  no  ambassador  in  any  part  of  Europe,  to  counteract 
her  negotiations,  and  by  that  means  she  had  the  range  of  every 
foreign  court  uncontradicted  on  our  part.  We  even  knew 
nothing  of  the  treaty  for  the  Hessians  till  it  was  concluded,  and 
the  troops  ready  to  embark.  Had  we  been  independent  before, 
we  had  probably  prevented  her  obtaining  them.  We  had  no 
credit  abroad,  because  of  our  rebellious  dependency.  Our  ships 
could  claim  no  protection  in  foreign  courts,  because  we  afforded 
them  no  justifiable  reason  for  granting  it  to  us.  The  calling 
ourselves  subjects,  and  at  the  same  time  fighting  against  the 
power  which  we  acknowledged,  was  a  dangerous  precedent  to 
all  Europe.  If  the  grievances  justified  the  taking  up  arms,  they 
justified  our  separation;  if  they  did  not  justify  our  separation, 
neither  could  they  justify  our  taking  up  arms.  All  Europe 
was  interested  in  reducing  us  as  rebels,  and  all  Europe  (or  the 
greatest  part  at  least)  is  interested  in  supporting  us  as  inde- 
pendent states.  At  home  our  condition  was  still  worse;  our 
currency  had  no  foundation,  and  the  fall  of  it  would  have  ruined 
whig  and  tory  alike.  We  had  no  other  law  than  a  kind  of 
moderated  passion;  no  other  civil  power  than  an  honest  mob; 
and  no  other  protection  than  the  temporary  attachment  of  one 
man  to  another.  Had  independence  been  delayed  a  few  mcnths 
longer,  this  continent  would  have  been  plunged  into  irrecover- 
able confusion;  some  violent  for  it,  some  againsc  it,  till  in  the 
general  cabal,  the  rich  would  have  been  ruined,  and  the  poor 
destroyed.  It  is  to  independence  which  every  tory  owes  the 
present  safety  which  he  lives  in;  for  by  that,  and  that  only,  we 


THE   CRISIS.  85 

emerged  from  a  state  of  dangerous  suspense,  and  became  a 
regular  people. 

The  necessity,  likewise,  of  being  independent,  had  there  been 
no  rupture  between  Britain  and  America,  would,  in  a  little 
time,  have  brought  one  on.  The  increasing  importance  of  com- 
merce, the  weight  and  perplexity  of  legislation,  and  the  en- 
tangled state  of  European  politics,  would  daily  have  shown  to 
the  continent  the  impossibility  of  continuing  subordinate;  for, 
after  the  coolest  reflections  on  the  matter,  this  must  be  allowed, 
that  Britain  was  too  jealous  of  America  to  govern  it  justly;  too 
ignorant  of  it  to  govern  it  well ;  and  too  far  distant  from  it  to 
govern  it  at  all. 

4th.  But  what  weigh  most  with  all  men  of  serious  reflection 
are,  the  moral  advantages  arising  from  independence:  war  and 
desolation  have  become  the  trade  of  the  old  world ;  and  America 
neither  could,  nor  can  be  under  the  government  of  Britain 
without  becoming  a  sharer  of  her  guilt,  and  a  partner  in  all 
the  dismal  commerce  of  death.  The  spirit  of  duelling,  extended 
on  a  national  scale,  is  a  proper  character  for  European  wars. 
They  have  seldom  any  other  motive  than  pride,  or  any  other 
object  than  fame.  The  conquerors  and  the  conquered  are 
generally  ruined  alike,  and  the  chief  difference  at  last  is,  that 
the  one  marches  home  with  his  honors,  and  the  other  without 
them.  'Tis  the  natural  temper  of  the  English  to  fight  for  a 
feather,  if  they  suppose  that  feather  to  be  an  affront;  and 
America,  without  the  right  of  asking  why,  must  have  abetted  in 
every  quarrel,  and  abided  by  its  fate.  It  is  a  shocking  situa- 
tion to  live  in,  that  one  country  must  be  brought  into  all  the 
wars  of  another,  whether  the  measure  be  right  or  wrong,  or 
whether  she  will  or  not;  yet  this,  in  the  fullest  extent,  was, 
and  ever  would  be,  the  unavoidable  consequence  of  the  con- 
nexion. Surely  the  Quakers  forgot  their  own  principles,  when, 
in  their  late  Testimony,  they  called  this  connexion,  with  these 
military  and  miserable  appendages  hanging  to  it — "  the  happy 
constitution." 

Britain,  for  centuries  past,  has  been  nearly  fifty  years  out  of 
every  hundred  at  war  with  some  power  or  other.  It  certainly 
ought  to  be  a  conscientious  as  well  as  political  consideration 
with  America,  not  to  dip  her  hands  in  the  bloody  work  of 
Europe.  Our  situation  affords  us  a  retreat  from  their  cabals, 
and  the  present  happy  union  of  the  states  bids  fair  for  extirpa- 
ting the  future  use  of  arms  from  one  quarter  of  the  world ;  yet 


86  THE  CRISIS. 

such  have -been  the  irreligious  politics  of  the  present  leaders  of 
the  Quakers,  that,  for  the  sake  of  they  scarce  know  what,  they 
would  cut  off  every  hope  of  such  a  blessing  by  tying  this  con- 
tinent to  Britain,  like  Hector  to  the  chariot  wheel  of  Achilles, 
to  be  dragged  through  all  the  miseries  of  endless  European  wars. 

The  connexion,  viewed  from  this  ground,  is  distressing  to 
every  man  who  has  the  feelings  of  humanity.  By  having 
Britain  for  our  master,  we  became  enemies  to  the  greatest  part 
of  Europe,  and  they  to  us :  and  the  consequence  was  Avar  in- 
evitable. By  being  our  own  masters,  independent  of  any 
foreign  one,  we  have  Europe  for  our  friends,  and  the  prospects 
of  an  endless  peace  among  ourselves.  Those  who  were  advo- 
cates for  the  British  government  over  these  colonies,  were 
obliged  to  limit  both  their  arguments  and  their  ideas  to  the 
period  of  an  European  peace  only :  the  moment  Britain  became 
plunged  in  war,  every  supposed  convenience  to  us  vanished,  and 
all  we  could  hope  for  was  not  to  be  ruined.  Could  this  be  a 
desirable  condition  for  a  young  country  to  be  in  ? 

Had  the  French  pursued  their  fortune  immediately  after  the 
defeat  of  Braddock  last  war,  this  city  and  province  had  then 
experienced  the  woful  calamities  of  being  a  British  subject.  A 
scene  of  the  same  kind  might  happen  again ;  for  America,  con- 
sidered as  a  subject  to  the  crown  of  Britain,  would  ever  have 
been  the  seat  of  war,  and  the  bone  of  contention  between  the 
two  powers. 

On  the  whole,  if  the  future  expulsion  of  arms  from  one 
quarter  of  the  world  would  be  a  desirable  object  to  a  peaceable 
man ; — if  the  freedom  of  trade  to  every  part  of  it  can  engage 
the  attention  of  a  man  of  business; — if  the  support  or  fall  of 
millions  of  currency  can  affect  our  interest; — if  the  entire  pos- 
session of  estates,  by  cutting  off  the  lordly  claims  of  Britain 
over  the  soil,  deserves  the  regard  of  landed  property ;  and  if  the 
right  of  making  our  own  laws,  uncontrolled  by  royal  or  minis- 
terial spies  or  mandates,  be  worthy  our  care  as  freemen ; — then 
are  all  men  interested  in  the  support  of  independence ;  and  may 
he  that  supports  it  not,  be  driven  from  the  blessing,  and  live 
unpitied  beneath  the  servile  suffering  of  scandalous  subjection  ! 

We  have  been  amused  with  the  tales  of  ancient  wonders ;  we 
have  read,  and  wept  over  the  histories  of  other  nations;  ap- 
plauded, censured,  or  pitied,  as  their  cases  affected  us.  The 
fortitude  and  patience  of  the  sufferers — the  justness  of  their 
cause — the  weight  of  their  oppressions  and  oppressors — the  ob- 


THE  CRISIS.  87 

ject  to  be  saved  or  lost — with  all  the  consequences  of  a  defeat 
or  a  conquest — have,  in  the  hour  of  sympathy,  bewitched  our 
hearts,  and  chained  it  to  there  fate :  but  where  is  the  power  that 
ever  made  war  upon  petitioneers  1  Or  where  is  the  war  on 
which  a  world  was  staked  till  now  1 

We  may  not,  perhaps,  be  wise  enough  to  make  all  the  advan- 
tages we  ought  of  our  independance ;  bnt  they  are,  nevertheless, 
marked  and  presented  to  us  with  every  character  of  great  and 
good,  and  worthy  the  hand  of  him  who  sent  them.  I  look 
through  the  present  trouble  to  a  time  of  tranquillity,  when  we 
shall  have  it  in  our  power  to  set  an  example  of  peace  to  all  the 
world.  Were  the  Quakers  really  impressed  and  influenced  by 
the  quiet  principles  they  profess  to  hold,  they  would,  however 
they  might  dissaprove  the  means,  be  the  first  of  all  men  to  ap- 
prove of  independence,  because,  by  separating  ourselves  from 
the  cities  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah,  it  affords  an  opportunity 
never  given  to  man  before,  of  carrying  there  favorite  principle 
of  peace  into  general  practice,  by  establishing  governments  that 
shall  hereafter  exist  without  wars.  O  !  ye  fallen,  cringing, 
priest  and  Pemberton-ridden  people  !  What  more  can  we  say 
of  ye  then  that  a  religious  Quaker  is  a  valuable  character,  and 
a  political  Quaker  a  real  Jesuit. 

Having  thus  gone  over  some  of  the  principal  points  in  sup- 
port of  independence,  I  must  now  request  the  reader  to  return 
back  with  me  to  the  period  when  it  first  began  to  be  a  public 
doctrine,  and  to  examine  the  progress  it  has  made  among  the 
various  classes  of  men.  The  era  I  mean  to  begin  at,  is  the 
breaking  out  of  hostilities,  April  19th,  1775.  Until  this  event 
happened,  the  continent  seemed  to  view  the  dispute  as  a  kind 
of  law-suit  for  a  matter  of  right,  litigating  between  the  old  coun- 
try and  the  new;  and  she  felt  the  same  kind  and  degree  of  hor- 
ror, as  if  she  had  seen  an  oppressive  plaintiff,  at  the  head  of  a 
hand  of  ruffians,  enter  the  court,  while  the  cause  was  before  it, 
and  put  the  judge,  the  jury,  the  defendant  and  his  counsel,  to 
the  sword.  Perhaps  a  more  heart-felt  convulsion  never  reached 
the  country  with  the  same  degree  of  power  and  rapidity  before, 
and  never  may  again.  Pity  for  the  sufferers,  mixed  with  in- 
dignation at  the  violence,  and  heightened  with  apprehensions 
of  undergoing  the  same  fate,  made  the  affair  of  Lexington  the 
affair  of  the  continent.  Every  part  of  it  felt  the  shock,  and  all 
vibrated  together.  A  general  promotion  of  sentiment  took 
place:  those  who  had  drank  deeply  into  whiggish  principles, 


88  THE   CRISIS. 

that  is,  the  right  and  necessity  not  only  of  opposing,  but 
wholly  setting  aside  the  power  of  the  crown  as  soon  as  it  became 
practically  dangerous  (for  in  theory  it  was  always  so)  stepped 
into  the  first  stage  of  independence;  while  another  class  of 
whigs,  equally  sound  in  principle,  but  not  so  sanguine  in  enter- 
prise, attached  themselves  the  stronger  to  the  cause,  and  fell 
close  in  with  the  rear  of  the  former ;  their  partition  was  a  mere 
point.  Numbers  of  the  moderate  men,  whose  chief  fault,  at 
that  time,  arose  from  their  entertaining  a  better  opinion  of  Bri- 
tain then  she  deserved,  convinced  now  of  there  mistake,  give 
her  up,  and  publicly  declared  themselves  good  whigs.  While 
the  tories,  seeing  it  was  no  longer  a  laughing  matter,  either 
sank  into  silence  obscurity,  or  contented  themselves  with  com- 
ing forth  and  abusing  General  Gage:  not  a  single  advocate  ap- 
peared to  justify  the  action  of  that  day;  it  seemed  to  appear  to 
every  one  with  the  same  magnitude,  struck  every  one  with  the 
same  force,  and  created  in  every  one  the  same  abhorrence. 
From  this  period  we  may  date  the  growth  of  independence, 

If  the  many  circumstances  which  happened  at  this  memor- 
able time,  be  taken  in  one  view,  and  compared  with  each  other, 
they  will  justify  a  conclusion  which  seems  not  to  have  been  at- 
tended to:  I  mean  a  fixed  design  in  the  king  and  ministry  of 
driving  America  into  arms,  in  order  that  they  might  be  fur- 
nished with  the  pretence  for  seizing  the  whole  continent,  as  the 
immediate  property  of  the  crown.  A  noble  plunder  for  hungry 
courtiers  ! 

It  ought  to  be  remembered  that  the  first  petition  from  the 
congress  was  at  this  time  unanswered  on  the  part  of  the  British 
king.  That  the  motion  called  Lord  North's  motion,  of  the  20th 
February,  1775,  arrived  in  America  the  latter  end  of  March. 
This  motion  was  to  be  laid  by  the  several  governors  then  in 
being,  before  the  assembly  of  each  province;  and  the  first 
assembly  before  which  it  was  laid  was  the  assembly  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, in  May  following.  This  being  a  just  state  of  the  case,  I 
then  ask,  why  were  hostilities  commenced  between  the  time  of 
passing  the  resolve  in  the  house  of  commons,  of  the  20th  of 
February,  and  the  time  of  the  assemblies  meeting  to  deliberate 
upon  it  ?  Degrading  and  infamous  as  that  motion  was,  there 
is,  nevertheless,  reason  to  believe  that  the  king  and  his  adher- 
ents were  afraid  the  colonies  would  agree  to  it,  and  lest  they 
should,  took  effectual  care  they  should  not,  by  provoking  them 
with  hostilities  in  the  interim.  They  had  not  the  least  doubt 


THE  CRISIS.  89 

at  that  time  of  conquering  America  at  one  blow;  and  what  they 
expected  to  get  by  a  conquest  being  infinitely  greater  than  any 
thing  they  could  hope  to  get  either  by  taxation  or  accommoda- 
tion, they  seemed  determined  to  prevent  even  the  possibility 
of  hearing  each  other,  lest  America  should  disappoint  their 
greedy  hopes  of  the  whole,  by  listening  even  to  their  own  terms. 
On  the  one  hand  they  refused  to  hear  the  petition  of  the  conti- 
nent, and  on  the  other  hand  took  effectual  care  the  continent 
should  not  hear  them. 

That  the  motion  of  the  20th  of  February  and  the  orders  for 
commencing  hostilities  were  both  concerted  by  the  same  person 
or  persons,  and  not  the  latter  by  General  Gage,  as  was  falsely 
imagined  at  first,  is  evident  from  an  extract  of  a  letter  of  his  to 
the  administration,  read  among  other  papers  in  the  house  of 
commons;  in  which  he  informs  his  masters,  "  That  though  their 
idea  of  his  disarming  certain  counties  was  a  right  one,  yet  it  re- 
quired him  to  be  master  of  the  country,  in  order  to  enable  him  to 
execute  it."  This  was  prior  to  the  commencement  of  hostilities, 
and  consequently  before  the  motion  of  the  20th  February  could 
be  deliberated  on  by  the  several  assemblies. 

Perhaps  it  may  be  asked,  why  was  the  motion  passed,  if  there 
was  at  the  same  time  a  plan  to  aggravate  the  Americans  not  to 
listen  to  it?  Lord  North  assigned  one  reason  himself,  which 
was  a  hope  of  dividing  them.  This  was  publicly  tempting  them 
to  reject  it;  that  if,  in  case  the  injury  of  arms  should  fail  in 
provoking  them  sufficiently,  the  insult  of  such  a  declaration 
might  fill  it  up.  But  by  passing  the  motion  and  getting  it 
afterwards  rejected  in  America,  it  enabled  them,  in  their 
wretched  idea  of  politics,  among  other  things,  to  hold  up  the 
colonies  to  foreign  powers,  with  every  possible  mark  of  disobe- 
dience and  rebellion.  They  had  applied  to  those  powers  not  to 
supply  the  continent  with  arms,  ammunition,  <fcc.,  and  it  was 
necessary  they  should  incense  them  against  us,  by  assigning  on 
their  own  part  some  seeming  reputable  reason  why.  By  divid- 
ing, it  had  a  tendency  to  weaken  the  states,  and  likewise  to 
perplex  the  adherents  of  America  in  England.  But  the  prin- 
cipal scheme,  and  that  which  has  marked  their  character  in  every 
part  of  their  conduct,  was  a  design  of  precipitating  the  colonies 
into  a  state  which  they  might  afterwards  deem  rebellion,  and, 
under  that  pretence,  put  an  end  to  a'l  future  complaints,  peti- 
tions and  remonstrances,  by  seizing  the  whole  at  once.  They 
had  ravaged  one  part  of  the  globe  till  it  could  glut  them  no 


90  THE  CRISIS 

longer;  their  prodigality  required  new  plunder,  and  through  the 
East  India  article,  tea,  they  hoped  to  transfer  their  rapine  from 
that  quarter  of  the  world  to  this.  Every  designed  quarrel  had 
its  pretence;  and  the  same  barbarian  avarice  accompanied  the 
plant  to  America,  which  ruined  the  country  that  produced  it. 

That  men  never  turn  rogues  without  turning  fools  is  a  maxim, 
sooner  or  later,  universally  true.  The  commencement  of  hos- 
tilities, being  in  the  beginning  of  April,  was,  of  all  times  the 
worst  chosen :  the  congress  were  to  meet  the  tenth  of  May  fol- 
lowing, and  the  distress  the  continent  felt  at  this  unparalleled 
outrage  gave  a  stability  to  that  body  which  no  other  circum- 
stance could  have  done.  It  suppressed,  too,  all  inferior  de- 
bates, and  bound  them  together  by  a  necessitous  affection,  with- 
out giving  them  time  to  differ  upon  trifles.  The  suffering,  like- 
wise, softened  the  whole  body  of  the  people  into  a  degree  of 
pliability  which  laid  the  foundation-stone  of  union,  order  and 
government;  and  which,  at  any  other  time,  might  only  have 
fretted  and  then  faded  away  unnoticed  and  unimproved :  but 
Providence,  who  best  knows  how  to  time  her  misfortunes  as  well 
as  her  immediate  favors,  chose  this  to  be  the  time,  and  who  dare 
dispute  it  ? 

It  did  not  seem  the  disposition  of  the  people,  at  this  crisis,  to 
heap  petition  upon  petition,  while  the  former  remained  unan- 
swered: the  measure,  however,  was  carried  in  congress,  and  a 
second  petition  was  sent;  of  which  I  shall  only  remark  that  it 
was  submissive  even  to  a  dangerous  fault,  because  the  prayer  of 
it  appealed  solely  to  what  is  called  the  prerogative  of  the  crown, 
while  the  matter  in  dispute  was  confessedly  constitutional. 
But  even  this  petition,  flattering  as  it  was,  was  still  not  so  har- 
monious as  the  chyik  of  cash,  and  consequently  not  sufficiently 
grateful  to  the  tyrant  and  his  ministry.  From  every  circum- 
stance it  is  evident  that  it  was  the  determination  of  the  British 
court  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  America  but  to  conquer  her 
fully  and  absolutely.  They  were  certain  of  success,  and  the 
field  of  battle  was  the  only  place  of  treaty.  I  am  confident 
there  are  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  in  America  who 
wonder  now  that  they  should  ever  have  thought  otherwise;  but 
the  sin  of  that  day  was  the  sin  of  civility,  yet  it  operated  against 
our  present  good  in  the  same  manner  that  a  civil  opinion  of  the 
devil  would  against  our  future  peace. 

Independence  was  a  doctrine  scarce  and  rare,  even  towards 
the  conclusion  of  the  year  1775;  all  our  politics  had  been 


THE  CRISIS.  91 

founded  on  the  hope  or  expectation  of  making  the  matter  up — 
a  hope,  which,  though  general  on  the  side  of  America,  had 
never  entered  the  head  or#  heart  of  the  British  court.  Their 
hope  was  conquest  and  'confiscation.  Good  heavens !  what 
volumes  of  thanks  does  America  owe  to  Britain  ?  What  infi- 
nite obligation  to  the  tool  that  fills,  with  paradoxical  va- 
cancy, the  throne  !  Nothing  but  the  sharpest  essence  of  vil- 
lainy, compounded  with  the  strongest  distillation  of  folly,  could 
have  produced  a  menstrum  that  would  have  effected  a  separa- 
tion. The  congress  in  1774  administered  an  abortive  medicine 
to  independence,  by  prohibiting  the  importation  of  goods,  and 
the  succeeding  congress  rendered  the  dose  still  more  dangerous 
by  continuing  it.  Had  independence  been  a  settled  system 
with  America  (as  Britain  has  advanced),  she  ought  to  have 
doubled  her  importation,  and  prohibited  in  some  degree  her  ex- 
portation. And  this  single  circumstance  is  sufficient  to  acquit 
America  before  any  jury  of  nations,  of  having  a  continental 
plan  of  independence  in  view;  a  charge  which,  had  it  been  true, 
would  have  been  honorable,  but  is  so  grossly  false,  that  either 
the  amazing  ignorance  or  the  wilful  dishonesty  of  the  British 
court,  is  effectually  proved  by  it. 

The  second  petition,  like  the  first,  produced  no  answer;  it 
was  scarcely  acknowledged  to  have  been  received;  the  British 
court  were  too  determined  in  their  villainy  even  to  act  it  art- 
fully, and  in  their  rage  for  conquest  neglected  the  necessary  sub- 
tleties for  obtaining  it.  They  might  have  divided,  disti-acted 
and  played  a  thousand  tricks  with  us,  had  they  been  as  cunning 
as  they  were  cruel. 

This  last  indignity  gave  a  new  spring  to  independence.  Those 
who  knew  the  savage  obstinacy  of  the  king,  and  the  jobbing, 
gambling  spirit  of  the  court,  predicted  the  fate  of  the  petition 
as  soon  as  it  was  sent  from  America;  for  the  men  being  known, 
their  measures  were  easily  foreseen.  As  politicians  we  ought 
not  so  much  to  ground  our  hopes  on  the  reasonableness  of  the 
thing  we  ask,  as  on  the  reasonableness  of  the  person  of  whom  we 
ask  it;  who  would  expect  discretion  from  a  fool,  candor  from  a 
tyrant,  or  justice  from  a  villain  ? 

As  every  prospect  of  accommodation  seemed  now  to  fail  fast, 
men  began  to  think  seriously  on  the  matter;  and  their  reason 
being  thus  stripped  of  the  false  hope  which  had  long  encom- 
passed it,  became  approachable  by  fair  debate ;  yet  still  the  bulk 
of  the  people  hesitated;  they  startled  at  the  novelty  of  indepen- 


92  THE  CRISIS. 

dence,  -without  once  considering  that  our  getting  into  arms  at 
first  Avas  a  more  extraordinary  novelty,  and  that  all  other  na- 
tions had  gone  through  the  work  of  independence  before  us. 
They  doubted  likewise  the  ability  of  the  continent  to  support  it, 
without  reflecting  that  it  required  the  same  force  to  obtain  an 
accommodation  by  arms  as  an  independence.  If  the  one  was 
acquirable,  the  other  was  the  same;  because,  to  accomplish 
either,  it  was  necessary  that  our  strength  should  be  too  great 
for  Britain  to  subdue;  and  it  was  too  unreasonable  to  suppose, 
that  with  the  power  of  being  masters,  we  should  submit  to  be 
servants.*  Their  caution  at  this  time  was  exceedingly  mis- 
placed ;  for  if  they  were  able  to  defend  their  property  and  main- 
tain their  rights  by  arms,  they,  consequently,  were  able  to  de- 
fend and  support  their  independence ;  and  in  proportion  as  these 
men  saw  the  necessity  and  correctness  of  the  measure,  they 
honestly  and  openly  declared  and  adopted  it,  and  the  part  that 
they  have  acted  since  has  done  them  honor  and  fully  established 
their  characters.  Error  in  opinion  has  this  peculiar  advantage 
with  it,  that  the  foremost  point  of  the  contrary  ground  may  at 
any  time  be  reached  by  the  sudden  exertion  of  a  thought;  and 
it  frequently  happens  in  sentimental  differences,  that  some 
striking  circumstance,  or  some  forcible  reason  quickly  conceived 
will  affect  in  an  instant  what  neither  argument  nor  example 
could  produce  in  an  age. 

I  find  it  impossible  in  the  small  compass  I  am  limited  to,  to 
trace  out  the  progress  which  independence  has  made  on  the 
minds  of  the  different  classes  of  men,  and  the  several  reasons  by 
which  they  were  moved.  With  some,  it  was  a  passionate  ab- 

*  In  this  state  of  political  suspense  the  pamphlet  "  Common  Sense  "  made 
its  appearance,  and  the  success  it  met  with  does  not  become  me  to  mention. 
Dr.  Franklin,  Mr.  Samuel  and  John  Adams,  were  severally  spoken  of  as  the 
supposed  author.  I  had  not,  at  that  time,  the  pleasure  either  of  personally 
knowing  or  being  known  to  the  two  last  gentlemen.  The  favor  of  Dr. 
Franklin's  friendship  I  possessed  in  England,  and  my  introduction  to  this 
part  of  the  world  was  through  his  patronage.  I  happened,  when  a  school - 
DOf,  to  pick  up  a  pleasing  natural  history  of  Virginia,  and  my  inclination 
f  rom  that  day  of  seeing  the  western  side  of  the  Atlantic  never  left  me.  In 
October,  1775,  Dr.  Franklin  proposed  giving  me  such  materials  as  were  in 
his  hands,  towards  completing  a  history  of  the  present  transactions,  and 
seemed  desirous  of  having  the  first  volume  out  next  spring.  I  had  then 
formed  the  outlines  of  "  Common  Sense,"  and  finished  nearly  the  first  part ; 
and  as  I  supposed  the  doctor's  design  in  getting  out  a  history  was  to  open  the 
new  year  with  a  new  system,  I  expected  to  surprise  him  with  a  production 
on  that  subject  much  earlier  than  he  thought  of ;  and  without  informing  bin1 
what  I  was  doing,  got  it  ready  for  the  press  as  fast  as  I  conveniently  could, 
and  sent  him  the  first  pamphlet  that  was  printed  off. 


THE  CRISIS.  90 

horence  against  the  king  of  England  and  his  ministry,  as  a  set 
of  savages  and  brutes;  and  these  men,  governed  by  the  agony 
of  a  wounded  mind,  were  for  trusting  every  thing  to  hope  and 
heaven,  and  bidding  defiance  at  once.  With  others,  it  was  a 
gaowing  conviction  that  the  scheme  of  the  British  court  was  to 
create,  ferment,  and  drive  on  a  quarrel,  for  the  sake  of  confis- 
cated plunder ;  and  men  of  this  class  ripened  into  independence 
in  proportion  as  the  evidence  increased.  While  a  third  class 
conceived  it  was  the  true  interest  of  America,  internally  and 
externally,  to  be  her  own  master,  and  gave  their  support  to 
independence,  step  by  step,  as  they  saw  her  abilities  to  main- 
tain it  enlarge.  With  many,  it  was  a  compound  of  all  these 
reasons;  while  those  who  were  too  callous  to  be  reached  by 
either,  remained,  and  still  remain  tories. 

The  legal  necessity  of  being  independent,  with  several  col- 
lateral reasons,  is  pointed  out  in  an  elegant  masterly  manner, 
in  a  charge  to  the  grand  jury  for  the  district  of  Charleston,  by 
the  Hon.  William  Henry  Drayton,  Chief  Justice  of  South 
Carolina.  This  performance,  and  the  address  of  the  convention 
of  New  York,  are  pieces,  in  my  humble  opinion,  of  the  first 
rank  in  America. 

The  principal  causes  why  independence  has  not  been  so  uni- 
versally supported  as  it  ought,  are  fear  and  indolence,  and  the 
causes  why  it  has  been  opposed,  are,  avarice  and  down-right 
villainy,  and  lust  of  personal  power.  There  is  not  such  a  being 
in  America  as  a  tory  from  conscience ;  some  secret  defect  or 
other  is  interwoven  in  the  character  of  all  those,  be  they  men 
or  women,  who  can  look  with  patience  on  the  brutality,  luxury 
and  debauchery  of  the  British  court,  and  the  violations  of  their 
army  here.  A  women's  virtue  must  sit  very  lightly  on  her  who 
can  even  hint  a  favorable  sentiment  in  their  behalf.  It  is  remark- 
able that  the  whole  race  of  prostitutes  in  New  York  were  tories ; 
and  the  schemes  for  supporting  the  tory  cause  in  this  city,  for 
which  several  are  now  in  jail,  and  one  hanged,  were  concerted 
and  carried  on  in  common  bawdy-houses,  assisted  by  those  who 
kept  them. 

The  connexion  between  vice  and  meanness  is  a  fit  subject  for 
satire,  but  when  the  satire  is  a  fact,  it  cuts  with  the  irresistible 
power  of  a  diamond.  If  a  Quaker  in  defenee  of  his  just  rights, 
his  property  and  the  chastity  of  his  house,  takes  up  a  musket, 
he  is  expelled  the  meeting;  but  the  present  king  of  England, 
who  seduced  and  took  into  keeping  a  sister  of  their  society,  is 


94  THE  CRISIS. 

reverenced  and  supported  by  repeated  Testimonies,  while  the 
friendly  noodle  from  whom  she  was  taken  (and  who  is  now  in 
this  city)  continues  a  drudge  in  the  service  of  his  rival,  as  if 
proud  of  being  cuckolded  by  a  creature  called  a  king. 

Our  support  and  success  depend  on  such  a  variety  of  men  and 
circumstances,  that  every  one  who  does  but  wish  well,  is  of  some 
use;  there  are  men  who  have  a  strange  aversion  to  arms,  yet 
have  hearts  to  risk  every  shilling  in  the  cause,  or  in  support  of 
those  who  have  better  talents  for  defending  it.  Nature,  in  the 
arrangement  of  mankind,  has  fitted  some  for  every  service  in 
life;  were  all  soldiers,  all  would  starve  and  go  naked,  and  were 
none  soldiers,  all  would  be  slaves.  As  disaffection  to  in- 
dependence is  the  badge  of  a  toiy,  so  affection  to  it  is  the  mark 
of  a  whig;  and  the  different  services  of  the  whigs,  down  from 
those  who  nobly  contribute  every  thing,  to  those  who  have 
nothing  to  render  but  their  wishes,  tend  all  to  the  same  centre, 
though  with  different  degrees  of  merit  and  ability.  The  larger 
we  make  the  circle,  the  more  we  shall  harmonize,  and  the 
stronger  we  shall  be.  All  we  want  to  shut  out  is  disaffection, 
and,  that  excluded,  we  must  accept  from  each  other  such  duties 
as  we  are  best  fitted  to  bestow  A  narrow  system  of  politics, 
like  a  narrow  system  of  religion,  is  calculated  only  to  sour  the 
temper,  and  be  at  variance  with  mankind. 

All  we  want  to  know  in  Amerifca  is  simply  this,  who  is  for 
independence,  and  who  is  not1?  Those  who  are  for  it,  will  sup- 
port it,  and  the  remainder  will  undoubtedly  see  the  reasonable- 
ness of  paying  the  charges;  while  those  who  oppose  or  seek  to 
betray  it,  must  expect  the  more  rigid  fate  of  the  jail  and  the 
gibbet.  There  is  a  bastard  kind  of  generosity,  which  being 
extended  to  all  men,  is  as  fatal  to  society,  on  one  hand,  as  the 
want  of  true  generosity  is  on  the  other.  A  lax  manner  of 
administering  justice,  falsely  termed  moderation,  has  a  tendency 
both  to  dispirit  public  virtue,  and  promote  the  growth  of  public 
evils.  Had  the  late  committee  of  safety  taken  cognizance  of 
the  last  Testimony  of  the  Quakers  and  proceeded  against  such 
delinquents  as  were  concerned  therein,  they  had,  probably, 
prevented  the  treasonable  plans  which  have  been  concerted 
since.  When  one  villain  is  suffered  to  escape,  it  encourages 
another  to  proceed,  either  from  a  hope  of  escaping  likewise,  or 
an  apprehension  that  we  dare  not  punish.  It  has  been  a  matter 
of  general  surprise,  that  no  notice  was  taken  of  the  incendiary 
publication  of  the  Quakers,  of  the  20th  of  November  last ;  a 


THE   CRISIS.  95 

publication  evidently  intended  to  promote  sedition  and  treason, 
and  encourage  the  enemy,  who  were  then  within  a  day's  march 
of  this  city,  to  proceed  on  and  possess  it.  I  here  present  the 
the  reader  with  a  memorial  which  was  laid  before  the  board  of 
safety  a  few  days  after  the  Testimony  appeared.  Not  a  mem- 
ber of  that  board,  that  I  conversed  with,  but  expressed  the 
highest  detestation  of  the  perverted  principles  and  conduct  of  the 
Quaker  junto,  and  a  wish  that  the  boari  would  take  the  matter 
up;  notwithstanding  which,  it  was  sufiered  to  pass  away  un- 
noticed, to  the  encouragement  of  new  acts  o£  treason,  the 
general  danger  of  the  cause,  and  the  disgrace  of  the  state. 

TO  THE  HONORABLE  THE  COUNCIL  OF  SAFETY  OF  THE 
STATE  OF  PENNSYLVANIA. 

At  a  meeting  of  a  reputable  number  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
city  of  Philadelphia,  impressed  with  a  proper  sense  of  the  justice 
of  the  cause  which  this  continent  is  engaged  in,  and  animated 
with  a  generous  fervor  for  supporting  the  same,  it  was  resolved, 
that  the  following  be  laid  before  the  board  of  safety : 

"We  profess  liberality  of  sentiment  to  all  men ;  with  this 
distinction  only,  that  those  who  do  not  deserve  it  would  become 
wise  and  seek  to  deserve  it.  We  hold  the  pure  doctrines  of 
universal  liberty  of  conscience,  and  conceive  it  our  duty  to  en- 
deavor to  secure  that  sacred  right  to  others,  as  well  as  to  defend 
it  for  ourselves;  for  we  undertake  not  to  judge  of  the  religious 
rectitude  of  tenets,  but  leave  the  whole  matter  to  Him  who 
made  us. 

"We  persecute  no  man,  neither  will  we  abet  in  the  persecu- 
tion of  any  man  for  religion's  sake;  our  common  relation  to 
others  being  that  of  fellow-citizens  and  fellow-subjects  of 
one  single  community;  and  in  this  line  of  connexion  we  hold 
out  the  right  hand  of  fellowship  to  all  men.  But  we  should 
conceive  ourselves  to  be  unworthy  members  of  the  free  and  in- 
dependent states  of  America,  were  we  unconcernedly  to  see  or 
to  suffer  any  treasonable  wound,  public  or  private,  directly  or 
indirectly,  to  be  given  against  the  peace  and  the  safety  of  the 
same.  We  inquire  not  into  the  rank  of  the  offenders,  nor  into 
their  religious  persuasion ;  we  have  no  business  with  either,  our 
part  being  only  to  find  them  out  and  exhibit  them  to  justice. 

"A  printed  paper,  dated  the  20th  of  November,  and  signed 
'JohnPemlerton,'  whom  we  suppose  to  be  an  inhabitant  of  this 
city,  has  lately  been  dispersed  abroad,  a  copy  of  which  accom- 


THE  CRISIS. 

panies  this.  Had  the  framers  and  publishers  of  that  paper 
conceived  it  their  duty  to  exhort  the  youth  and  others  of  their 
society,  to  a  patient  submission  under  the  present  trying  visita- 
tions, and  humbly  to  await  the  event  of  heaven  towards  them, 
they  had  therein  showed  a  Christian  temper,  and  we  had  been 
silent;  but  the  anger  and  political  virulence  with  which  their 
instructions  are  given,  and  the  abuse  with  which  they  stigmatize 
all  ranks  of  men,  not  thinking  like  themselves,  leave  no  doubt 
on  our  minds  from  what  spirit  their  publication  proceeded :  and 
it  is  disgraceful  to  the  pure  cause  of  truth,  that  men  can  dally 
with  words  of  the  most  sacred  import,  and  play  them  off  as  mechr 
anically  as  if  religion  consisted  only  in  contrivance.  We  know 
of  no  instance  in  which  the  Quakers  have  been  compelled  to 
bear  arms,  or  to  do  anything  which  might  strain  their  conscience, 
wherefore  their  advice,  'to  withstand  and  refuse  to  submit  to 
the  arbitrary  instructions  and  ordinances  of  men,'  appear  to 
us  a  false  alarm,  and  could  only  be  treasonably  calculated  to  gain 
favor  with  our  enemies  when  they  are  seemingly  on  the  brink 
of  invading  this  state,  or,  what  is  still  worse,  to  weaken  the 
hands  of  our  defence,  that  their  entrance  into  this  city  might 
be  made  practicible  and  easy. 

"We  disclaim  all  tumult  and  disorder  in  the  punishment  of 
offenders;  and  wish  to  be  governed,  not  by  temper  but  by  reason, 
in  the  manner  of  treating  them.  We  are  sensible  that  our  cause 
has  suffered  by  the  two  following  errors:  first,  by  ill-judged 
lenity  to  traitorous  persons  in  some  cases;  and,  secondly,  by 
only  a  passionate  treatment  of  them  in  others.  For  the  future 
we  disown  both,  and  wish  to  be  steady  in  our  proceedings,  and 
serious  in  our  punishments. 

"Every  state  in  America  has,  by  the  repeated  voice  of  its 
inhabitants,  directed  and  authorised  the  continental  congress  to 
publish  a  formal  declaration  of  independence  of,  and  separation 
from,  the  oppressive  king  and  parliament  of  Great  Britain ;  and 
we  look  on  every  man  as  an  enemy  who  does  not  in  some  line 
or  other,  give  his  assistance  towards  supporting  the  same;  at 
the  same  time  we  consider  the  offence  to  be  heightened  to  a 
degree  of  unpardonable  guilt,  when  such  persons,  under  the 
show  of  religion,  endeavor,  either  by  writing,  speaking,  or 
otherwise,  to  subvert,  overturn,  or  bring  reproach  upon  the 
independence  of  this  continent  as  declared  by  congress. 

"  The  publishers  of  the  paper  signed  '  John  Pemberton?  have 
called  in  loud  manner  to  their  friends  and  connexions,  '  to  with 


THE   CRISIS. 

stand  or  refuse'  obedience  to  whatever  'instructions  or  ordin- 
ances' may  be  published,  not  warranted  by  (what  they  call) 
'that  happy  constitution  under  which  they  and  others  long  en 
joyed  tranquillity  and  peace.'  If  this  be  not  treason,  we  know 
not  what  may  properly  be  called  by  that  name. 

"  To  us  it  is  a  matter  of  surprise  and  astonishment,  that  men 
with  the  word  'peace,  peace,'  continually  on  their  lips,  should 
be  so  fond  of  living  under  and  supporting  a  government,  and 
at  the  same  time  calling  it  'happy,'  which  is  never  better  pleased 
than  when  at  war — that  hath  filled  India  with,  carnage  and 
famine,  Africa  with  slavery,  and  tampered  with  Indians  and 
negroes  to  cut  the  throats  of  the  freemen  of  America.  We 
conceive  it  a  disgrace  to  this  state,  to  harbor  or  wink  at  such 
palpable  hypocrisy.  But  as  we  seek  not  to  hurt  the  hair  of 
any  man's  head,  when  we  can  make  ourselves  safe  without,  we 
wish  such  persons  to  restore  peace  to  themselves  and  us,  by 
removing  themselves  to  some  part  of  the  king  of  Great  Britain's 
dominions,  as  by  that  means  they  may  live  unmolested  by  us 
and  we  by  them ;  for  our  fixed  opinion  is,  that  those  who  do 
not  deserve  a  place  among  us,  ought  not  to  have  one. 

"  We  conclude  with  requesting  the  council  of  safety  to  take 
into  consideration  the  paper  signed  '  John  Pemberton,'  and  if  it 
shall  appear  to  them  to  be  of  a  dangerous  tendency,  or  of  a 
treasonable  nature,  that  they  would  commit  the  signer,  together 
wtih  such  other  persons  as  they  can  discover  were  concerned 
therein,  into  custody,  until  such  time  as  some  mode  of  trial  shall 
ascertain  the  full  degree  of  their  guilt  and  punishment;  in  the 
doing  of  which,  we  wish  their  judges,  whoever  they  may  be,  to 
disregard  the  man,  his  connexions,  interest,  riches,  poverty,  or 
principles  of  religion,  and  to  attend  to  the  nature  of  his  offence 
only." 

The  most  cavilling  sectarian  cannot  accuse  the  foregoing  with 
containing  the  least  ingredient  of  persecution.  The  free  spirit 
on  which  the  American  cause  is  founded,  disdains  to  mix  with 
such  an  impurity,  and  leaves  it  as  rubbish  fit  only  for  narrow 
and  suspicious  minds  to  grovel  in.  Suspicion  and  persecution 
are  weeds  of  the  same  dunghill,  and  flourish  together.  Had  the 
Quakers  minded  their  religion  and  their  business,  they  might 
have  lived  through  this  dispute  in  enviable  ease,  and  none 
would  have  molested  them.  The  common  phrase  with  these 
people  is,  'Our  principles  are  peace'  To  which  may  be  replied, 
and  your  practices  are  the  reverse;  for  never  did  the  conduct  of 
7 


98  THE  CRISIS. 

men  oppose  their  own  doctrine  more  notoriously  than  th<* 
present  race  of  the  Quakers.  They  have  artfully  changed  them- 
selves into  a  different  sort  of  people  to  what  they  used  to  be. 
and  yet  have  the  address  to  persuade  each  other  that  they  art 
not  altered;  like  antiquated  virgins,  they  see  not  the  havoc 
deformity  has  made  upon  them,  but  pleasantly  mistaking 
wrinkles  for  dimples,  conceive  themselves  yet  lovely  and  wonder 
at  the  stupid  world  for  not  admiring  them. 

Did  no  injury  arise  to  the  public  by  this  apostacy  of  the 
Quakers  from  themselves,  the  public  would  have  nothing  to  do 
with  it;  but  as  both  the  design  and  consequences  are  pointed 
against  a  cause  in  which  the  whole  community  are  interested, 
it  is  therefore  no  longer  a  subject  confined  to  the  cognizance  of 
the  meeting  only,  but  comes,  as  a  matter  of  criminality,  before 
either  the  authority  of  the  particular  state  in  which  it  is  acted, 
or  of  the  continent  against  which  it  operates.  Every  attempt, 
now,  to  support  the  authority  of  the  king  and  parliament  of 
Great  Britain  over  America,  is  treason  against  every  state ; 
therefore  it  is  impossible  that  any  one  can  pardon  or  screen  from 
punishment  an  offender  against  all. 

But  to  proceed:  while  the  infatuated  tories  of  this  and  other 
states  were  last  spring  talking  of  commissioners'  accommoda- 
tion, making  the  matter  up,  and  the  Lord  knows  what  stufl 
and  nonsense,  their  good  king  and  ministry  were  glutting  them- 
selves with  the  revenge  of  reducing  America  to  unconditional 
submission,  and  solacing  each  other  with  the  certainty  of  con- 
quering it  in  one  campaign.  The  following  quotations  are 
from  the  parliamentary  register  of  the  debates  of  the  House  of 
Lords,  March  5th,  1776. 

"The  Americans,"  says  lord  Talbot,*  "have  been  obstinate, 
undutiful,  and  ungovernable  from  the  very  beginning,  from 
their  first  early  and  infant  settlements:  and  I  am  every  day 
more  and  more  convinced  that  this  people  never  will  be  brought 
back  to  their  duty,  and  the  subordinate  relation  they  stand  in 
to  this  country,  till  reduced  to  unconditional,  effectual  submis- 
sion; no  concession  on  our  part,  no  lenity,  no  endurance,  wili 
have  any  other  effect  but  that  of  increasing  their  insolence." 

"  The  struggle,"  says  lord  Townsend,t  "  is  now  a  struggle  foi 
power;  the  die  is  cast,  and  the  only  point  which  now  remains 

*  Steward  of  the  king's  household. 

t  Formerly,  General  Townsend,  at  Quebec,  and  late  lord-lieutenant  of 
Ireland. 


THE   CRISIS.  99 

to  be  determined,  is,  in  what  manner  the  war  can  be  most 
effectually  prosecuted  and  speedily  finished,  in  order  to  procure 
that  unconditional  submission,  which  has  been  so  ably  stated 
by  the  noble  earl  with  the  white  staff;"  (meaning  lord  Talbot,) 
"  and  I  have  no  reason  to  doubt  that  the  measures  now  pursuing 
will  put  an  end  to  the  war  in  the  course  of  a  single  campaign. 
Should  it  linger  longer,  we  shall  then  have  reason  to  expect 
that  borne  foreign  power  will  interfere,  and  take  advantage  of 
our  domestic  troubles  and  civil  distractions." 

Lord  Littleton :  "  My  sentiments  are  pretty  well  known.  I 
shall  only  observe  now  that  lenient  measures  have  had  no  other 
effect  than  to  produce  insult  after  insult;  that  the  more  we 
conceded,  the  higher  America  rose  in  her  demands,  and  the 
more  insolent  she  has  grown.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  I  am 
now  for  the  most  effective  and  decisive  measures;  and  am  of 
opinion  that  no  alternative  is  left  us,  but  to  relinquish  America 
for  ever,  or  finally  determine  to  compel  her  to  acknowledge  the 
legislative  authority  of  this  country ;  and  it  is  the  principle  of 
an  unconditional  submission  I  would  be  for  maintaining." 

Can  words  be  more  expressive  than  these  ?  Surely  the  tories 
will  believe  the  tory  lords!  The  truth  .is,  they  do  believe  them, 
and  know  as  fully  as  any  whig  on  the  continent  knows,  that 
the  king  and  ministry  never  had  the  least  design  of  an  accom- 
modation with  America,  but  an  absolute,  unconditional  con- 
quest. And  the  part  which  the  tories  were  to  act,  was,  by 
downright  lying,  to  endeavor  to  put  the  continent  off  its 
guard  and  to  divide  and  sow  discontent  in  the  minds  of  such 
whigs  as  they  might  gain  an  influence  over.  In  short,  to  keep 
up  a  distraction  here,  that  the  force  sent  from  England  might 
be  able  to  conquer  in  "one  campaign."  They  and  the  ministry 
were,  by  a  different  game,  playing  into  each  other's  hands. 
The  cry  of  the  tories  in  England  was,  "No  reconciliation,  no 
accommodation"  in  order  to  obtain  the  greater  military  force; 
while  those  in  America  were  crying  nothing  but  "reconciliation 
and  accommodation"  that  the  force  sent  might  conquer  with 
the  less  resistance. 

But  this  "  single  campaign "  is  over,  and  America  not  con- 
quered. The  whole  work  is  yet  to  do,  and  the  force  much  less 
to  do  it  with.  Their  condition  is  both  despicable  and  deplorable : 
out  of  cash — out  of  heart,  and  out  of  hope.  A  country  fur- 
nished with  arms  and  amunition,  as  America  now  is,  with  three 
millions  of  inhabitants,  and  three  thousand  miles  distant  from 


100  THE  CRISIS. 

the  nearest  enemy  that  can  approach  her,  is  able  to  look  ar.ti 
laugh  them  in  the  face. 

Howe  appears  to  have  two  objects  in  view,  either  to  go  up 
the  North  river,  or  come  to  Philadelphia. 

By  going  up  the  North  river,  he  secures  a  retreat  for  his 
army  through  Canada,  but  the  ships  must  return  if  they  return 
at  all,  the  same  way  they  went;  as  our  army  would  be  in  the- 
rear,  the  safety  of  their  passage  clown  is  a  doubtful  matter.  Bv 
such  a  motion  he  shuts  himself  from  all  supplies  from  Europe, 
but  through  Canada,  and  exposes  his  army  and  navy  to  tin- 
danger  of  perishing.  The  idea  of  his  cutting  off  the  communi 
cation  between  the  eastern  and  southern  states,  by  means  of  the 
North  river,  is  merely  visionary.  He  cannot  do  it  by  his  ship- 
ping, because  no  ship  can  lay  long  at  anchor  in  any  river  within 
reach  of  the  shore ;  a  single  gun  would  drive  a  first  rate  from 
such  a  station.  This  was  fully  proved  last  October  at  forts 
Washington  and  Lee,  where  one  gun  only,  on  each  side  of  the 
river,  obliged  two  frigates  to  be  cut  and  be  towed  off  in  an 
hour's  time.  Neither  can  he  cut  it  off  by  his  army;  because 
the  several  posts  they  must  occupy,  would  divide  them  almost 
to  nothing,  and  expose  them  to  be  picked  up  by  ours  like  peb- 
bles on  a  river's  bank.  But  admitting  that  he  could,  where,  is 
the  injury  1  Because,  while  his  whole  force  is  cantoned  out,  as 
sentries  over  the  water,  they  will  be  very  innocently  employed, 
and  the  moment  they  march  into  the  country  the  communi- 
cation opens. 

The  most  probable  object  is  Philadelphia,  and  the  reasons  are 
many.  Howe's  business  is  to  conquer  it,  and  in  proportion  as 
he  finds  himself  unable  to  the  task,  he  will  employ  his  strength 
to  distress  women  and  weak  minds,  in  order  to  accomplish 
through  their  fears  what  he  cannot  accomplish  by  his  own  force. 
His  coming  or  attempting  to  come  to  Philadelphia  is  a  circum- 
stance that  proves  his  weakness:  for  no  general  that  felt  him- 
self able  to  take  the  field  and  attack  his  antagonist,  would 
think  of  bringing  his  army  into  a  city  in  the  summer  time;  and 
this  mere  shifting  the  scene  from  place  to  place,  without  affect- 
ing any  thing,  has  feebleness  and  cowardice  on  the  face  of  it, 
and  holds  him  up  in  contemptible  light  to  all  who  can  reason 
justly  and  firmly.  By  several  informations  from  New  York, 
it  appears  that  their  army  in  general,  both  officers  and  men, 
have  given  up  the  expectation  of  conquering  America ;  their  eye 
now  is  fixed  upon  the  spoil.  They  suppose  Philadelphia  to  be 


THE  CRISIS.  101 

rich  with  stores,  and  as  they  think  to  get  more  by  robbing  a 
town  than  by  attacking  an  army,  their  movement  towards  this 
eity  is  probable.  We  are  not  now  contending  against  an  army 
of  soldiers,  but  against  a  band  of  thieves,  who  had  rather  plun- 
der than  fight,  and  have  no  other  hope  of  conquest  than  by 
cruelty. 

They  expect  to  get  a  mighty  booty,  and  strike  another  general 
panic,  by  making  a  sudden  movement  and  getting  possession  of 
this  city ;  but  unless  they  can  march  out  as  well  as  in.  or  get  the 
entire  command  of  the  river,  to  remove  off  their  plunder,  they 
may  probably  be  stopped  with  the  stolen  goods  upon  them. 
They  have  never  yet  succeded  wherever  they  have  been  opposed, 
but  at  fort  Washington.  At  Charleston  their  defeat  was  effec- 
tual. At  Ticonderoga  they  ran  away.  In  the  skirmish  at 
Kingsbridge  and  the  White  Plains  they  were  obliged  to  retreat, 
and  the  instant  that  our  arms  were  turned  upon  them  in  the 
Jesrseys,  they  turned  likewise,  and  those  that  turned  not  were 
taken, 

The  necessity  of  always  fitting  our  internal  police  to  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  times  we  live  in,  is  something  so  strikingly 
obvious,  that  no  sufficient  objection  can  be  made  against  it. 
The  safety  of  all  societies  depends  upon  it ;  and  where  this  point 
is  not  attended  to,  the  consequences  will  either  be  a  general 
languor  or  a  tumult.  The  encouragement  and  protection  of  the 
good  subjects  of  any  state,  and  the  suppression  and  punishment 
of  bad  ones,  are  the  principal  objects  for  which  all  authority  is 
instituted  and  the  line  in  which  it  ought  to  operate.  We  have 
in  this  city  a  strange  variety  of  men  and  characters,  and  the 
circumstances  of  the  times  require  that  they  should  be  publicly 
known;  it  is  not  the  number  of  tories  that  hurt  us,  so  much  as 
the  not  finding  out  who  they  are;  men  must  now  take  one  side 
or  the  other,  amd  abide  by  *he  consequences:  the  Quakers, 
trusting  to  their  short-sighted  sagacity,  have,  most  unluckily 
for  them,  made  their  declaration  in  their  last  Testimony,  and  we 
ought  now  to  take  them  at  their  word.  They  have  voluntarily 
read  themselves  OUT;  of  continental  meeting,  and  cannot  hope  to 
be  restored  to  it  again  but  by  payment  and  penitence.  Men 
whose  political  principles  are  founded  on  avarice,  are  beyond  the 
reach  of  reason,  and  the  only  cure  of  toryism  of  this  cast  is  to 
tax  it.  A  substantial  good  drawn  from  a  real  evil  is  of  the 
same  benefit  to  society  as  if  drawn  from  a  virtue ;  and  where 
men  have  not  public  spirit  to  render  themselves  serviceable,  it 


102  THE  CRISIS. 

ought  to  be  the  study  of  government  to  draw  the  best  use  possible 
from  their  vices.  When  the  governing  passion  of  any  man,  or 
set  of  men,  is  once  known,  the  method  of  managing  them  is 
easy;  for  even  misers,  whom  no  public  virtue  can  impress, 
would  become  generous,  could  a  heavy  tax  be  laid  upon  cov- 
etousness. 

The  tories  have  endeavored  to  insure  their  property  with  the 
enemy,  by  forfeiting  their  reputation  with  us;  from  which  may 
be  justly  inferred,  that  their  governing  passion  is  avarice. 
Make  them  as  much  afraid  of  losing  on  one  side  as  on  the  other, 
and  you  stagger  their  torryism;  make  them  more  so,  and  you 
reclaim  them ;  for  their  principle  is  to  worship  the  power  which 
they  are  most  afraid  of. 

This  method  of  considering  men  and  things  together,  opens 
into  a,  large  field  for  speculation,  and  affords  me  an  opportunity 
of  offering  some  observations  on  the  state  of  our  currency,  so  as 
to  make  the  support  of  it  go  hand  in  hand  with  the  suppression 
of  disaffection  and  the  encouragement  of  public  spirit. 

The  thing  which  first  presents  itself  in  inspecting  the  state 
of  the  currency,  is,  that  we  have  too  much  of  it,  and  that  there 
is  a  necessity  of  reducing  the  quantity,  in  order  to  increase  the 
value.  Men  are  daily  growing  poor  by  the  very  means  that 
they  take  to  get  rich ;  for  in  the  same  proportion  that  the  prices 
of  all  goods  on  hand  are  raised,  the  value  of  all  money  laid  by 
is  reduced.  A  simple  case  will  make  this  clear;  let  a  man 
have  a  £100  in  cash,  and  as  many  goods  on  hand  as  will  to-day 
sell  for  £20,  but  not  content  with  the  present  market  price,  he 
raises  them  to  £40,  and  by  so  doing,  obliges  others,  in  their 
own  defence,  to  raise  cent,  per  cent,  likewise;  in  this  case  it  is 
evident  that  his  hundred  pounds  laid  by,  is  reduced  fifty  pounds 
in  value;  whereas,  had  the  market  lowered  cent,  per  cent,  his 
goods  would  have  sold  but  for  ten,  but  his  hundred  pounds 
would  have  risen  in  value  to  two  hundred,  because  it  would 
then  purchase  as  many  goods  again,  or  support  his  family  as 
long  again  as  before.  And,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  he  is  one 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds  the  poorer  for  raising  his  goods,  to 
what  he  would  have  been  had  he  lowered  them;  because  the 
forty  pounds  which  his  goods  sold  for,  is,  by  the  general  raise 
of  the  market  cent,  per  cent.,  rendered  of  no  more  value  than  the 
ten  pounds  would  be  had  the  market  fallen  in  the  same  propor- 
tion ;  and,  consequently,  the  whole  difference  of  gain  or  loss  is 
on.  the  difference  in  value  of  the  hundred  pounds  Jaid  by,  viz.t 


THE   CRISIS.  103 

from  fifty  to  two  hundred.  This  rage  for  raising  goods  is  for 
several  reasons  much  more  the  fault  of  the  tories  than  the  whigs ; 
and  yet  the  tories  (to  their  shame  and  confusion  ought  they 
to  be  told  of  it)  are  by  far  the  most  noisy  and  discontented. 
The  greatest  part  of  the  whigs,  by  being  either  now  in  the  army 
or  employed  in  some  public  service,  are  buyers  only  and  not 
sellers,  and  as  this  evil  has  its  origin  in  trade,  it  cannot  be 
charged  on  those  who  are  out  of  it. 

But  the  grievance  has  now  become  too  general  to  be  remedied 
by  partial  methods,  and  the  only  effectual  cure  is  to  reduce  the 
quantity  of  money :  with  half  the  quantity  we  should  be  richer 
than  we  are  now,  because  the  value  of  it  would  be  doubled,  and 
consequently  our  attachment  to  it  increased;  for  it  is  not  the 
number  of  dollars  a  man  has,  but  how  far  they  will  go,  that 
makes  him  either  rich  or  poor. 

These  two  points  being  admitted,  viz.,  that  the  quantity  of 
money  is  too  great,  and  that  the  prices  of  goods  can  only  be 
effectually  reduced  by  reducing  the  quantity  of  the  money,  the 
next  point  to  be  considered  is,  the  method  how  to  reduce  it. 

The  circumstances  of  the  times,  as  before  observed,  require 
that  the  public  characters  of  all  men  should  now  be  fully  under- 
stood, and  the  only  general  method  of  ascertaining  it  is  by  an  oath 
or  affirmation,  renouncing  all  allegiance  to  the  king  of  Great 
Britain,  and  to  support  the  independence  of  the  United  States, 
as  declared  by  congress.  Let,  at  the  same  time,  a  tax  of  ten, 
fifteen,  or  twenty  per  cent,  per  annum,  be  collected  quarterly, 
be  levied  on  all  property.  These  alternatives,  by  being  per- 
fectly voluntary,  will  take  in  all  sorts  of  people.  Here  is  the 
test;  here  is  the  tax.  He  who  takes  the  former,  conscientiously 
proves  his  affection  to  the  cause,  and  binds  himself  to  pay  his 
quota  by  the  best  services  in  his  power,  and  is  thereby  justly 
exempt  from  the  latter;  and  those  who  choose  the  latter,  pay 
their  quota  in  money,  to  be  excused  from  the  former,  or 
rather,  it  is  the  price  paid  to  us  for  their  supposed,  though  mis- 
taken, insurance  with  the  enemy. 

But  this  is  only  a  part  of  the  advantage  which  would  arise 
by  knowing  the  different  characters  of  the  men.  The  whigs 
stake  everything  on  the  issue  of  their  arms,  while  the  tories, 
by  their  disaffection,  are  sapping  and  ,  undermining  their 
strength;  and,  of  consequence,  the  property  of  the  whigs  is  the 
more  exposed  thereby;  and  whatever  injury  their  states  may 
sustain  by  the  movements  of  the  enemy,  must  either  be  borne 


104  THE 

by  themselves,  who  have  done  everything  which  has  yet  been 
done,  or  by  the  tories,  who  have  not  only  done  nothing,  but 
have,  by  their  disaffection,  invited  the  enemy  on. 

In  the  present  crisis  we  ought  to  know,  square  by  square,  and 
house  by  house,  who  are  in  real  allegicince  with  the  United  In- 
dependent States,  and  who  are  not.  Let  but  the  line  be  made 
clear  and  distinct,  and  all  men  will  then  know  what  they  are 
to  trust  to.  It  would  not  only  be  good  policy  but  strict 
justice,  to  raise  fifty  or  one  hundred  thousand  pounds,  or  more, 
if  it  is  necessary,  out  of  the  estates  and  property  of  the  king  of 
England's  votaries,  resident  in  Philadelphia,  to  be  distributed, 
as  a  reward  to  those  inhabitants  of  the  city  and  state,  who 
should  turn  out  and  repulse  the  enemy,  should  they  attempt  to 
march  this  way;  and  likewise,  to  bind  the  property  of  all  such 
persons  to  make  good  the  damages  which  that  of  the  whigs 
might  sustain.  In  the  undistinguishable  mode  of  conducting 
war,  we  frequently  make  reprisals  at  sea,  on  the  vessels  of  per- 
sons in  England,  who  are  friends  to  our  cause,  compared  with 
the  resident  tories  among  us. 

In  every  former  publication  of  mine,  from  Common  Sense 
down  to  the  last  Crisis,  I  have  generally  gone  on  the  charitable 
supposition,  that  the  tories  were  rather  a  mistaken  than  a 
criminal  people,  and  have  applied  argument  after  argument,  with 
all  the  candor  and  temper  which  I  was  capable  of,  in  order  to  set 
every  part  of  the  case  clearly  and  fairly  before  them,  and  if 
possible  to  reclaim  them  from  ruin  to  reason.  I  have  done  my 
duty  by  them,  and  have  now  done  with  that  doctrine,  taking  it 
for  granted,  that  those  who  yet  hold  their  disaffection,  are  either 
a  set  of  avaricious  miscreants,  who  would  sacrifice  the  continent 
to  save  themselves,  or  a  banditti  of  hungry  traitors,  who  are 
hoping  for  a  division  of  the  spoil.  To  which  may  be  added,  a 
list  of  crown  or  proprietary  dependants,  who,  rather  than  go 
without  a  portion  of  power,  would  be  content  to  share  it  with 
the  devil.  Of  such  men  there  is  no  hope;  and  their  obedience 
will  only  be  according  to  the  danger  set  before  them,  and  the 
power  that  is  exercised  over  them. 

A  time  will  shortly  arrive,  in  which,  by  ascertaining  the 
characters  of  persons  now,  we  shall  be  guarded  against  their 
mischiefs  then;  for  in  proportion  as  the  enemy  despair  of  con- 
quest, they  will  be  trying  the  arts  of  seduction  and  the  force  of 
fear  by  all  the  mischiefs  which  they  can  inflict.  But  in  war  we 
may  be  certain  of  these  two  things,  viz.,  that  cruelty  in  an 


THE  CRISIS.  105 

enemy,  and  motions  made  with  more  than  usual  parade,  are 
always  signs  of  weakness.  He  that  can  conquer  finds  his  mind 
too  free  and  pleasant  to  be  brutish  ;  and  he  that  intends  to 
conquer,  never  makes  too  much  show  of  his  strength. 

We  now  know  the  enemy  we  have  to  do  with.  While  drunk 
with  the  certainty  of  victory,  they  disdained  to  be  civil  ;  and  in 
proportion  as  disappointment  makes  them  sober,  and  their 
apprehensions  of  an  European  war  alarm  them,  they  will  become 
cringing  and  artful;  honest  they  cannot  be.  But  our  answer 
to  them,  in  either  condition  they  may  be  in,  is  short  and  full  — 
"As  free  and  independent  states  we  are  willing  to  make  peace 
with  you  to-morrow,  but  we  neither  can  hear  nor  reply  in  any 
other  character." 

If  Britain  cannot  conquer  us,  it  proves  that  she  is  neither 
able  to  govern  nor  protect  us,  and  our  particular  situation  now 
is  such,  that  any  connexion  with  her  would  be  unwisely  ex- 
changing a  half-defeated  enemy  for  two  powerful  ones.  Europe, 
by  every  appearance,  is  now  on  the  eve,  nay,  on  the  morning 
twilight  of  a  war,  and  any  alliance  with  George  the  third,  brings 
France  and  Spain  upon  our  backs;  a  separation  from  him 
attaches  them  to  our  side;  therefore,  the  only  road  to  peace, 
honor  and  commerce,  is  Independence. 

Written  this  fourth  year  of  the  UNION,  which  God  preserve. 


SBXSE. 
,  AprH  19,  7777. 


NUMBER  IV. 

THOSE  who  expect  to  reap  the  blessings  of  freedom,  must,  like 
men,  undergo  the  fatigues  of  supporting  it.  The  event  of  yes- 
terday was  one  of  those  kind  alarms  which  is  just  sufficient  to 
rouse  us  to  duty,  without  being  of  consequence  enough  to 
depress  our  fortitude.  It  is  not  a  field  of  a  few  acres  of  ground, 
but  a  cause,  that  we  are  defending,  and  whether  we  defeat  the 
enemy  in  one  battle,  or  ly  degrees,  the  consequence  will  be  the 
same. 

Look  back  at  the  events  of  last  winter  and  the  present  year; 
there  you  will  find  that  the  enemy's  successes  always  contri- 
buted to  reduce  them.  What  they  have  gained  in  ground,  they 
t>aid  so  dearly  for  in  numbers,  that  their  victories  have  in  the 


106  THE  CRISIS. 

end  amounted  to  defeats.  We  have  always  been  masters  at  the 
last  push,  and  always  shall  be  while  we  do  our  duty.  Howe  has 
been  once  on  the  banks  of  the  Delaware,  and  from  thence  driven 
back  with  loss  and  disgrace ;  and  why  not  be  again  driven  from 
the  Schuylkill?  His  condition  and  ours  are  very  different.  He 
has  every  body  to  fight,  we  have  only  his  one  army  to  cope 
with,  and  which  wastes  away  at  every  engagement :  we  cannot 
only  reinforce,  but  can  redouble  our  numbers;  he  is  cut  off  from 
all  supplies,  and  must  sooner  or  later  inevitably  fall  into  our 
hands. 

Shall  a  band  of  ten  or  twelve  thousand  robbers,  who  are  this 
day  fifteen  hundred  or  two  thousand  men  less  in  strength  than 
they  were  yesterday,  conquer  America,  or  subdue  even  a  single 
state?  The  thing  cannot  be,  unless  we  sit  down  and  suffer  them 
to  do  it.  Another  such  a  brush,  notwithstanding  we  lost  the 
ground,  would,  by  still  reducing  the  enemy,  put  them  in  a  con- 
dition to  be  afterwards  totally  defeated. 

Could  our  whole  army  have  come  up  to  the  attack  at  one 
time,  the  consequences  had  probably  been  otherwise;  but  our 
having  different  parts  of  the  Brandy  wine  creek  to  guard,  and  the 
uncertainty  which  road  to  Philadelphia  the  enemy  would 
attempt  to  take,  naturally  afforded  them  an  opportunity  of 
passing  with  their  main  body  at  a  place  where  only  a  part  of 
of  ours  could  be  posted ;  for  it  must  strike  every  thinking  man 
with  conviction,  that  it  requires  a  much  greater  force  to  oppose 
an  enemy  in  several  places,  than  is  sufficient  to  defeat  him  in 
any  one  place. 

Men  who  are  sincere  in  defending  their  freedom,  will  always 
feel  concern  at  every  circumstance  which  seems  to  make  against 
them ;  it  is  the  natural  and  honest  consequence  of  all  affection- 
ate attachments,  and  the  want  of  it  is  a  vice.  But  the  dejec- 
tion lasts  only  for  a  moment;  they  soon  rise  out  of  it  with  addi- 
tional vigor;  the  glow  of  hope,  courage  and  fortitude,  will,  in 
a  little  time,  supply  the  place  of  every  inferior  passion,  and 
kindle  the  whole  heart  into  heroism. 

There  is  a  mystery  in  the  countenance  of  some  causes,  which 
we  have  not  always  present  judgment  enough  to  explain.  It 
is  distressing  to  see  an  enemy  advancing  into  a  country,  but  it 
is  the  only  place  in  which  we  can  beat  them,  and  in  which  we 
have  always  beaten  them,  whenever  they  made  the  attempt. 
The  nearer  any  disease  approaches  to  a  crisis,  the  nearer  it  is  to  a 
cure.  Danger  and  deliverance  make  their  advances  together, 


THE   CitiSIS.  107 

and  it  is  only  the  last  push,  in  which  one  or  the  other  takes 
the  lead. 

There  are  many  men  who  will  do  their  duty  when  it  is  not 
wanted ;  but  a  genuine  public  spirit  always  appears  most  when 
there  is  most  occasion  for  it,  Thank  God !  our  army,  though 
fatigued,  is  yet  entire.  The  attack  made  by  us  yesterday  was 
under  many  disadvantages,  naturally  arising  from  the  uncer- 
tainty of  knowing  which  route  the  enemy  would  take;  and, 
from  that  circumstance,  the  whole  of  our  force  could  not  be 
brought  up  together  time  enough  to  engage  all  at  once.  Our 
strength  is  yet  reserved;  and  it  is  evident  that  Howe  does  not 
think  himself  a  gainer  by  the  affair,  otherwise  he  would  this 
morning  have  moved  down  and  attacked  general  Washington. 

Gentlemen  of  the  city  and  country,  it  is  in  your  power,  by  a 
spirited  improvement  of  the  present  circumstance,  to  turn  it  to 
a  real  advantage.  Howe  is  now  weaker  than  before,  and  every 
shot  will  continue  to  reduce  him.  You  are  more  immediately 
interested  than  any  other  part  of  the  continent;  your  all  is  at 
stake;  it  is  not  so  with  the  general  cause;  you  are  devoted  by  the 
enemy  to  plunder  and  destruction :  it  is  the  encouragement  which 
Howe,  the  chief  of  plunderers,  has  promised  his  army.  Thus 
circumstanced,  you  may  save  yourselves  by  a  manly  resistance, 
and  you  can  have  no  hope  in  any  other  conduct.  I  never  yet 
knew  our  brave  general,  or  any  part  of  the  army,  officers  or 
men,  out  of  heart,  and  I  have  seen  them  in  circumstances  a 
thousand  times  more  trying  than  the  present.  It  is  only 
those  that  are  not  in  action,  that  feel  languor  and  heaviness, 
and  the  best  way  to  rub  it  off  is  to  turn  out,  and  make  sure 
work  of  it. 

Our  army  must  undoubtedly  feel  fatigue,  and  want  a  rein- 
forcement, of  rest,  though  not  of  valor.  Our  own  interest  and 
happiness  call  upon  us  to  give  them  every  support  in  our  power, 
and  make  the  burden  of  the  day,  on  which  the  safety  of  this 
city  depends,  as  light  as  possible.  Remember,  gentlemen,  that 
we  have  forces  both  to  the  northward  and  southward  of  Phila- 
delphia, and  if  the  enemy  be  but  stopped  till  those  can  arrive, 
this  city  will  be  saved,  and  the  enemy  finally  routed.  You 
have  too  much  at  stake  to  hesitate.  You  ought  not  to  think 
an  hour  upon  the  matter,  but  to  spring  to  action  at  once. 
Other  states  have  been  invaded,  have  likewise  driven  off  the 
invaders.  Now  our  time  and  turn  is  come,  and  perhaps  the 
finishing  stroke  is  reserved  for  us.  When  we  look  back  on  the 


108  THE  CRISIS. 

dangers  we  have  been  saved  from,  and  reflect  on  the  success  we 
have  been  blessed  with,  it  would  be  sinful  either  to  be  idle  or 
to  despair. 

I  close  this  paper  with  a  short  address  to  General  Howe. 
You,  sir,  are  only  lingering  out  the  period  that  shall  bring  with 
it  your  defeat.  You  have  yet  scarce  begun  upon  the  war,  and 
the  further  you  enter,  the  faster  will  your  troubles  thicken. 
What  you  now  enjoy  is  only  a  respite  from  ruin;  an  invitation  to 
destruction ;  something  that  will  lead  on  to  our  deliverance  at 
your  expense.  We  know  the  cause  which  we  are  engaged  in, 
and  though  a  passionate  fondness  for  it  may  make  us  grieve  at 
every  injury  which  threatens  it,  yet,  when  the  moment  of  con- 
cern is  over,  the  determination  to  duty  returns.  We  are  not 
moved  by  the  gloomy  smile  of  a  worthless  king,  but  by  the 
ardent  glow  of  generous  patriotism.  We  fight  not  to  enslave, 
but  to  set  a  country  free,  and  to  make  room  upon  the  earth  for 
nonest  men  to  live  in.  In  such  a  case  we  are  sure  that  we  are 
right ;  and  we  leave  to  you  the  despairing  reflection  of  being  the 
tool  of  a  miserable  tyrant. 

COMMON  SENSE. 
PHILADELPHIA,  Sept.  IK,  1777. 


NUMBER  V. 
TO  GEN.  SIR  WILLIAM  HOWE. 

To  argue  with  a  man  who  has  renounced  the  use  and  au 
thority  of  reason,  and  whose  philosophy  consists  in  hoi  din* 
humanity  in  contempt  is  like  administering  medicine  to  the 
dead,  or  endeavoring  to  convert  an  atheist  by  scripture. 
Enjoy,  sir,  your  insensibility  of  feeling  and  reflecting.  It  is 
the  prerogative  of  animals.  And  no  man  will  envy  you  those 
honors,  in  which  a  savage  only  can  be  your  rival  and  a  bear 
your  master. 

As  the  generosity  of  this  country  rewarded  your  brother's 
services  last  war,  with  an  elegant  monument  in  Westminster 
Abbey,  it  is  consistent  that  she  should  bestow  some  mark  of 
distinction  upon  you.  You  certainly  deserve  her  notice,  and  a 
conspicuous  place  in  the  catalogue  of  extraordinary  persons. 
Yet  it  would  be  a  pity  to  pass  you  from  the  world  in  state, 
and  consign  you  to  magnificent  oblivion  among  the  tombs, 
without  telling  the  future  beholder  why  Judas  in  as  .n^"* 


THE  CRISIS.  109 

known  as  John,  yet  history  ascribes  their  fame  to  very  different 
actions. 

Sir  William  hath  undoubtedly  merited  a  monument;  but  of 
what  kind,  or  with  what  inscription,  where  placed  or  how  em- 
bellished, is  a  question  that  would  puzzle  all  the  heralds  of  St. 
James's  in  the  profoundest  mood  of  historical  deliberation.  We 
are  at  no  loss,  sir,  to  ascertain  your  real  character,  but  some- 
what perplexed  how  to  perpetuate  its  identity,  and  preserve  it 
uninjured  from  the  transformations  of  time  or  mistake.  A 
statuary  may  give  a  false  expression  to  your  bust,  or  decorate 
it  with  some  equivocal  emblems,  by  which  you  may  happen  to 
steal  into  reputation  and  impose  upon  the  hereafter  tradition- 
ary world.  Ill  nature  or  ridicule  may  conspire,  or  a  variety  of 
accidents  combine  to  lessen,  enlarge,  or  change  Sir  William's 
fame;  and  no  doubt  but  he  who  has  taken  so  much  pains  to  be 
singular  in  his  conduct,  would  choose  to  be  just  as  singular  in 
his  exit,  his  monument  and  his  epitaph. 

The  usual  honors  of  the  dead,  to  be  sure,  are  not  sufficiently 
'sublime  to  escort  a  character  like  you  to  the  republic  of  dust 
and  ashes;  for  however  men  may  differ  in  their  ideas  of  grand- 
eur or  of  government  here,  the  grave  is  nevertheless  a  perfect 
republic.  Death  is  not  the  monarch  of  the  dead,  but  of  the 
dying.  The  moment  he  obtains  a  conquest  he  loses  a  subject, 
and,  like  the  foolish  king  you  serve,  will,  in  the  end,  war  him- 
self out  of  all  his  dominions. 

As  a  proper  preliminary  towards  the  arrangement  of  your 
funeral  honors,  we  readily  admit  of  your  new  rank  of  knight- 
hood. The  title  is  perfectly  in  character,  and  is  your  own,  more 
by  merit  than  creation.  There  are  knights  of  various  orders, 
from  the  knight  of  the  windmill  to  the  knight  of  the  post.  The 
former  is  your  pattern  for  exploits,  and  the  latter  will  assist 
you  in  settling  your  accounts.  No  honorary  title  could  be 
more  happily  applied  !  The  ingenuity  is  sublime  !  And  your 
royal  master  hath  discovered  more  genius  in  fitting  you  there- 
with, than  in  generating  the  most  finished  figure  for  a  button, 
or  discarding  on  the  properties  of  a  button  mould. 

But  how,  sir,  shall  we  dispose  of  you  ?  The  invention  of  a 
statuary  is  exhausted,  and  Sir  William  is  yet  unprovided  with 
a  monument.  America  is  anxious  to  bestow  her  funeral  favora 
upon  you,  and  wishes  to  do  it  in  a  manner  that  shall  distinguish 
you  from  all  the  deceased  heroes  of  the  last  war.  The  Egyp- 
tian method  of  embalming  is  not  known  to  the  present  age,  and 


THE  CRISIS. 

heirogylvphical  pageantry  hath  outlived  the  science  of  decy- 
phering  it.  Some  other  method,  therefore,  must  be  thought  of 
to  immortalize  the  new  knight  of  the  windmill  and  post.  Sir 
William,  thanks  to  his  stars,  is  not  oppressed  with  very  delicate 
ideas.  He  has  no  ambition  of  bring  wrapped  up  and  handed 
about  in  myrrh,  aloes  and  cassia.  Less  expensive  odors  will 
suffice;  and  it  fortunately  happens  that  the  simple  genius  of 
America  hath  discovered  the  art  of  preserving  gc'd'es,  and  em- 
bellishing them  too,  with  much  greater  frugality  than  the 
ancients.  In  balmage,  sir,  of  humble  tar,  you  will  be  as  secure 
as  Pharaoh,  and  in  a  hieroglyphic  of  feathers,  rival  in  finery  all 
the  mummies  of  Egypt. 

As  you  have  already  made  your  exit  from  the  moral  world, 
and  by  numberless  acts  both  of  passionate  and  deliberate  injus- 
tice, engraved  an  "here  lyeth"  on  your  deceased  honor,  it  must 
be  mere  affectation  in  you  to  pretend  concern  at  the  humors  or 
opinions  of  mankind  respecting  you.  What  remains  of  you 
may  expire  at  any  time.  The  sooner  the  better.  For  he  who 
survives  his  reputation,  lives  out  of  despite  of  himself,  like  a 
man  listening  to  his  own  reproach. 

Thus  entombed  and  ornamented,  I  leave  you  to  the  inspection 
of  the  curious,  and  return  to  the  history  of  your  yet  surviving 
actions. — The  character  of  Sir  William  hath  undergone  some 
extraordinary  revolutions  since  his  arrival  in  America.  It  is 
now  fixed  and  known ;  and  we  have  nothing  to  hope  from  your 
candor,  or  to  fear  from  your  capacity.  Indolence  and  inability 
have  too  large  a  share  in  your  composition,  ever  to  suffer  you 
to  be  anything  more  than  the  hero  of  little  villainies  and  un- 
finished adventures.  That,  which  to  some  persons'  appeared 
moderation  in  you  at  first,  was  not  produced  by  any  real  virtue 
of  your  own,  but  by  a  contrast  of  passions,  dividing  and  holding 
you  in  perpetual  irresolution.  One  vice  will  frequently  expel 
another,  without  the  least  merit  in  the  man,  as  powers  in  con- 
trary directions  reduce  each  other  to  rest. 

It  became  you  to  have  supported  a  dignified  solemnity  of 
character;  to  have  shown  a  superior  liberality  of  soul;  to  have 
won  respect  by  an  obstinate  perseverance  in  maintaining  order, 
and  to  have  exhibited  on  all  occasions  such  an  unchangeable 
graciousness  of  conduct,  that  while  we  beheld  in  you  the  reso- 
lution of  an  enemy,  we  might  admire  in  you  the  sincerity  of  a 
man.  You  came  to  America  under  the  high  sounding  titles  of 
commander  and  commissioner;  not  only  to  suppress  what  you 


THE  CRISIS. 

call  rebellion,  by  arms,  but  to  shame  it  out  of  countenance,  by 
the  excellence  of  your  example.  Instead  of  which,  you  have 
been  the  patron  of  low  and  vulgar  frauds,  the  encourager  of 
Indian  cruelties;  and  have  imported  a  cargo  of  vices  blacker 
than  those  which  you  pretend  to  suppress. 

Mankind  are  not  universally  agreed  in  their  determination 
of  right  and  wrong;  but  there  are  certain  actions  which  the 
consent  of  all  nations  and  individuals  hath  branded  with  the 
unchangeable  name  of  meanness.  In  the  list  of  human  vices 
we  find  some  of  such  a  refined  constitution,  they  cannot  be  car- 
ried into  practice  without  seducing  some  virtue  to  their  assist- 
ance: but  meanness  hath  neither  alliance  nor  apology.  It  is 
generated  in  the  dust  and  sweepings  of  other  vices,  and  is  of  such 
a  hateful  figure  that  all  the  rest  conspire  to  disown  it.  Sir 
William,  the  commissioner  of  George  the  third,  hath  at  last 
vouchsafed  to  give  it  rank  and  pedigree.  He  has  placed  the 
fugitive  at  the  council  board,  and  dubbed  it  companion  of  the 
order  of  knighthood. 

The  particular  act  of  meanness  which  I  allude  to  in  this 
description,  is  forgery.  You,  sir,  have  abetted  and  patronized 
the  forging  and  uttering  counterfeit  continental  bills.  In  the 
same  New-York  newspapers  in  which  your  own  proclamation 
under  your  master's  authority  was  published,  offering,  or  pre- 
tending to  offer,  pardon  and  protection  to  these  states,  there 
were  repeated  advertisements  of  counterfeit  money  for  sale, 
and  persons  who  have  come  officially  from  you,  and  under  the 
sanction  of  your  flag,  have  been  taken  up  in  attempting  to  put 
them  off, 

A  conduct  so  basely  mean  in  a  public  character  is  without 
precedent  or  pretence.  Every  nation  on  earth,  whether  friends 
or  enemies,  will  unite  in  despising  you.  'Tis  an  incendiary 
war  upon  society,  which  nothing  can  excuse  or  palliate. — An 
improvement  upon  beggarly  villainy — and  shows  an  inbred 
wretchedness  of  heart  made  up  between  the  venomous  malignity 
of  a  serpent  and  a  spiteful  imbecility  of  an  inferior  reptile. 

The  laws  of  any  civilized  country  would  condemn  you  to  the 
gibbet  without  regard  to  your  rank  or  title,  because  it  is  an 
action  foreign  to  the  usage  and  custom  of  war;  and  should  you 
fall  into  our  hands,  which  pray  God  you  may,  it  will  be  a 
doubtful  matter  whether  we  are  to  consider  you  as  a  military 
prisoner  or  a  prisoner  for  felony. 

Ttesides,  it  is  exceedingly  unwise  and  impolitic  in  you,  or  any 


112  •  THE  CRISIS. 

other  person  in  the  English  service,  to  promote  or  even  en- 
courage, or  wink  at  the  crime  of  forgery,  in  any  case  whatever. 
Because,  as  the  riches  of  England,  as  a  nation,  are  chiefly  in 
paper,  and  the  far  greater  part  of  trade  among  individuals  is 
carried  on  by  the  same  medium,  that  is,  by  notes  and  drafts  on 
one  another,  they,  therefore,  of  all  people  in  the  world,  ought 
to  endeavor  to  keep  forgery  out  of  sight,  and,  if  possible,  not 
to  revive  the  idea  of  it.  It  is  dangerous  to  make  men  familiar 
with  a  crime  which  they  may  afterwards  practise  to  much 
greater  advantage  against  those  who  first  taught  them.  Several 
officers  in  the  English  army  have  made  their  exit  at  the  gallows 
for  forgery  on  their  agents ;  for  we  all  know,  who  know  any- 
thing of  England,  that  there  is  not  a  more  necessitous  body  of 
men,  taking  them  generally,  than  what  the  English  officers  are. 
They  contrive  to  make  a  show  at  the  expense  of  the  tailors,  and 
appear  clean  at  the  charge  of  the  washer-woman. 

England  hath,  at  this  time,  nearly  two  hundred  million 
pounds  sterling  of  public  money  in  paper,  for  which  she  hath 
no  real  property:  besides  a  large  circulation  of  bank  notes, 
bank  post  bills,  and  promissory  notes  and  drafts  of  private 
bankers,  merchants  and  tradesmen.  She  hath  the  greatest 
quantity  of  paper  currency  and  the  least  quantity  of  gold  and 
silver  of  any  nation  in  Europe;  the  real  specie  which  is  about 
sixteen  millions  sterling,  serves  only  as  change  in  large  sums, 
which  are  always  made  in  paper,  or  for  payment  in  small  ones. 
Thus  circumstanced,  the  nation  is  put  to  its  wit's  end,  and 
obliged  to  be  severe  almost  to  criminality,  to  prevent  the  prac- 
tice and  growth  of  forgery.  Scarcely  a  session  passes  at  the 
Old  Bailey,  or  an  execution  at  Tyburn,  but  witnesseth  this 
truth,  yet  you,  sir,  regardless  of  the  policy  which  her  necessity 
obliges  her  to  adopt,  have  made  your  whole  army  intimate  with 
the  crime.  And  as  all  armies,  at  the  conclusion  of  a  war,  are 
too  apt  to  carry  into  practice  the  vices  of  the  campaign,  it  will 
probably  happen,  that  England  will  hereafter  abound  in 
forgeries,  to  which  art  the  practictioners  were  first  initiated 
under  your  authority  in  America.  You,  sir,  have  the  honor  of 
adding  a  new  vice  to  the  military  catalogue;  and  the  reason, 
perhaps,  why  the  invention  was  reserved  for  you,  is,  because  no 
general  before  was  mean  enough  ever  to  think  of  it. 

That  a  man,  whose  soul  is  absorbed  in  the  low  traffic  of 
vulgar  vice,  is  incapable  of  moving  in  any  superior  region,  is 
clearly  shown  in  you  by  the  event  of  every  campaign.  Your 


THE  CRISIS.  •         113 

military  exploits  have  been  without  plan,  object,  or  decision. 
Can  it  be  possible  that  you  or  your  employers  suppose  that  the 
possession  of  Philadelphia  will  be  any  ways  equal  to  the  expense 
or  expectation  of  the  nation  which  supports  you1?  What  ad- 
vantages does  England  derive  from  any  achievement  of  yours  ? 
To  her  it  is  perfectly  indifferent  what  place  you  are  in,  so  long 
as  the  business  of  conquest  is  unperformed  and  the  charge  of 
maintaining  you  remains  the  same. 

If  the  principal  events  of  the  three  campaigns  be  attended  to, 
the  balance  will  appear  against  you  at  the  close  of  each ;  but 
the  last,  in  point  of  importance  to  us,  has  exceeded  the  former 
two.  It  is  pleasant  to  look  back  on  dangers  past,  and  equally 
as  pleasant  to  meditate  on  present  ones  when  the  way  out 
begins  to  appear.  That  period  is  now  arrived,  and  the  long 
doubtful  winter  of  war  is  changing  to  the  sweeter  prospects  of 
victory  and  joy.  At  the  close  of  the  campaign,  in  1775,  you 
were  obliged  to  retreat  from  Boston.  In  the  summer  of  1776, 
you  appeared  with  a  numerous  fleet  and  army  in  the  harbor  of 
New  York.  By  what  miracle  the  continent  was  preserved  in 
that  season  of  danger  is  a  subject  of  admiration !  If  instead 
of  wasting  your  time  against  Long  Island,  you  had  run  up  the 
North  river,  and  landed  anywhere  above  New  York,  the  con- 
sequence must  have  been,  that  either  you  would  have  compelled 
General  Washington  to  fight  you  with  very  unequal  numbers, 
or  he  must  suddenly  have  evacuated  the  city  with  the  loss  of 
nearly  all  the  stores  of  his  army,  or  have  surrendered  for  want 
of  provisions;  the  situation  of  the  place  naturally  producing 
one  or  the  other  of  these  events. 

The  prepartions  made  to  defend  New  York  were,  nevertheless, 
wise  and  military;  because  your  forces  were  then  at  sea,  their 
numbers  uncertain;  storms,  sickness,  or  a  variety  of  accidents 
might  have  disabled  their  coming,  or  so  diminished  them  on 
their  passage,  that  those  which  survived  would  have  been  in- 
capable of  opening  the  campaign  with  any  prospect  of  success; 
in  which  case  the  defence  would  have  been  sufficient  and  the 
place  preserved:  for  cities  that  have  been  raised  from  nothing 
with  an  infinitude  of  labor  and  expense,  are  not  to  be  thrown 
away  on  the  bare  probability  of  their  being  taken.  On  these 
grounds  the  preparations  made  to  maintain  New  York  were  as 
judicious  as  the  retreat  afterwards.  While  you,  in  the  interim, 
let  slip  the  very  opportunity  which  seemed  to  put  conquest  in 
your  power. 


114  THE  CRISIS. 

Through  the  whole  of  the  campaign  you  had  nearly  double 
the  forces  which  General  Washington  immediately  commanded. 
The  principal  plan  at  that  time,  on  our  part,  was  to  wear  away 
the  season  with  as  little  loss  as  possible,  and  to  raise  the  army 
for  the  next  year.  Long  Island,  New  York,  forts  Washington 
and  Lee  were  not  defended  after  your  superior  force  was 
known,  under  any  expectation  of  their  being  finally  maintained, 
but  as  a  range  of  outworks,  in  the  attacking  of  which  your 
time  might  be  wasted,  your  numbers  reduced,  and  your  vanity 
amused  by  possessing  them  on  our -retreat.  It  was  interide<l 
to  have  withdrawn  the  garrison  from  fort  Washington  after  it 
had  answered  the  former  of  those  purposes,  but  the  fate  of  that 
day  put  a  prize  into  your  hands  without  much  honor  to  your- 
selves. 

Your  progress  through  the  Jerseys  was  accidental;  you  had  it 
not  even  in  contemplation,  or  you  would  not  have  sent  a  principal 
part  of  your  forces  to  Rhode  Island  before  hand.  The  utmost 
hope  of  America  in  the  year  1776  reached  no  higher  than  that 
she  might  not  then  be  conquered.  She  had  no  expectation  of 
defeating  you  in  that  campaign.  Even  the  most  cowardly  tory 
allowed  that,  could  she  withstand  the  shock  of  that  summer  her 
independence  would  be  past  a  doubt.  You  had  then  greatly  the 
advantage  of  her.  You  were  formidable.  Your  military  know- 
ledge was  supposed  to  be  complete.  Your  fleets  and  forces 
arrived  without  an  accident  You  had  neither  experience  nor 
reinforcements  to  wait  for.  You  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  begin, 
and  your  chance  lay  in  the  first  vigorous  onset. 

America  was  young  and  unskilled.  She  was  obliged  to  trust 
her  defence  to  time  and  practice;  and  hath,  by  mere  dint  of 
perseverence,  maintained  her  cause,  and  brought  the  enemy  to 
a  condition,  in  which  she  is  now  capable  of  meeting  him  on  any 
grounds. 

It  is  remarkable  that  in  the  campaign  of  1776,  you  gained  no 
more,  notwithstanding  your  great  force,  than  what  was  given 
you  by  consent  of  evacuation,  except  fort  Washington;  while 
every  advantage  obtained  by  us  was  by  fair  and  hard  fighting. 
The  defeat  of  Sir  Peter  Parker  was  complete.  The  conquest  of 
the  Hessians  at  Trenton,  by  the  remains  of  a  retreating  army, 
which  but  a  few  days  before  you  affected  to  despise,  is  an  in- 
stance of  their  heroic  perseverance  very  seldom  to  be  met  with. 
And  the  victory  over  the  British  troops  at  Princeton,  by  a  har- 
assed and  weary  party,  who  had  been  engaged  the  day  before 


THE   CRISIS.  115 

and  marched  all  night  without  refreshment,  is  attended  with 
such  a  scene  of  circumstances  and  superiority  of  genei-alship,  as 
will  ever  give  it  a  place  in  the  first  rank  in  the  history  of  great 
action,  s 

When  I  look  back  on  the  gloomy  days  of  last  winter  and  see 
America  suspended  by  a  thread,  I  feel  a  triumph  of  joy  at  the 
recollection  of  her  delivery,  and  a  reverence  for  tho  characters 
which  snatched  her  from  destruction.  To  doubt  now  would  be 
a  species  of  infidelity,  and  to  forget  the  instruments  which  saved 
us  then  would  be  ingratitude. 

The  close  of  that  campaign  left  us  with  the  spirit  of  conquer- 
ors. The  -northern  districts  were  relieved  by  the  retreat  of 
General  Carletoii  over  the  lakes.  The  army  under  your  com- 
mand were  hunted  back  arid  had  their  bounds  prescribed.  The 
continent  began  to  feel  its  military  importance,  and  the  winter 
passed  pleasantly  away  in  preparations  for  the  next  campaign. 

However  confident  you  might  be  on  your  first  arrival,  the 
result  of  the  year  1776  gave  you  some  idea  of  the  difficulty,  if 
not  impossibility  of  conquest.  To  this  reason  I  ascribe  your 
delay  in  opening  the  campaign  of  1777.  The  face  of  matters, 
011  the  close  of  the  former  year,  gave  you  no  encouragement  to 
pursue  a  discretionary  war  as  soon  as  the  spring  admitted  the 
taking  the  field;  for  though  conquest,  in  that  case,  would  have 
given  you  a  double  portion  of  fame,  yet  the  experiment  was  too 
hazardous.  The  ministry,  had  you  failed,  would  have  shifted 
the  whole  blame  upon  you,  charged  you  with  having  acted 
without  orders,  and  condemned  at  once  both  your  plan  and 
execution. 

To  avoid  the  misfortunes,  which  might  have  involved  you 
and  your  money  accounts  in  perplexity  and  suspicion,  you  pru- 
dently waited  the  arrival  of  a  plan  of  operations  from  England, 
which  was  that  you  should  proceed  to  Philadelphia  by  way  of 
the  Chesapeake,  and  that  Burgoyne,  after  reducing  Ticon- 
deroga,  should  take  his  route  by  Albany,  and,  if  necessary,  join 
you. 

The  splendid  laurels  of  the  last  campaign  have  flourished  in 
the  north.  In  that  quarter  America  has  surpised  the  world, 
and  laid  the  foundation  of  this  year's  glory.  The  conquest  of 
Ticonderoga  (if  it  may  be  called  a  conquest)  has,  like  all  your 
other  victories,  led  on  to  ruin.  Even  the  provisions  taken  in 
that  fortress  (which  by  General  Burgoyne's  return  was  sufficient 
in  bread  and  flour  for  nearly  5,000  men  for  ten  weeks,  and  in 


116  THE  CRISIS. 

beef  and  pork  for  the  same  number  of  men  for  one  month) 
served  only  to  haste n  his  overthrow,  by  enabling  him  to  proceed 
to  Pamtojya,  the  place  of  his  destruction.  A  short  review  of 
the  operations  of  the  last  campaign  will  show  the  condition  of 
affairs  on  both  sides. 

You  have  taken  Ticonderoga  and  marched  into  Philadelphia. 
These  are  all  the  events  which  the  year  hath  produced  on  your 
part.  A  trifling  campaign  indeed,  compared  with  the  expenses 
of  England  and  the  conquest  of  the  continent.  On  the  other 
side,  a  considerable  part  of  your  northern  force  has  been  routed 
by  the  New  York  militia  under  General  Herkemer.  Fort 
Stemwix  has  bravely  survived  a  compound  attack  of  soldiers 
and  savages,  and  the  besiegers  have  fled.  The  battle  of  Ben- 
nington  has  put  a  thousand  prisoners  into  our  hands,  with  all 
their  arms,  stores,  artillery  and  baggage.  General  Burgoyne. 
in  two  engagements,  has  been  defeated ;  himself,  his  army,  and 
all  that  were  his  and  theirs  are  now  ours.  Ticonderoga  and 
Independence  are  retaken,  and  not  the  shadow  of  an  enemy 
remains  in  all  the  northern  districts.  At  this  instant  we  have 
upwards  of  eleven  thousand  prisoners,  between  sixty  and  severity 
pieces  of  brass  ordnance,  besides  small  arms,  tents,  stores,  &c. 

In  order  to  know  the  real  value  of  those  advantages,  we  must 
reverse  the  scene,  and  suppose  General  Gates  and  the  force  he 
commanded  to  be  at  your  mercy  as  prisoners,  and  General  Bur- 
goyne, with  his  army  of  soldiers  and  savages,  to  be  already 
joined  to  you  in  Pennsylvania.  So  dismal  a  picture  can  scarcely 
be  looked  at.  It  has  all  the  tracings  and  colorings  of  horror 
and  despair;  and  excites  the  most  swelling  emotions  of  grati- 
tude, by  exhibiting  the  miseries  we  are  so  graciously  preserved 
from. 

I  admire  the  distribution  of  laurels  around  the  continent. 
It  is  the  earnest  of  future  union.  South  Carolina  has  had  her 
day  of  sufferings  and  of  fame;  and  the  other  southern  states 
have  exerted  themselves  in  proportion  to  the  force  that  invaded 
or  insulted  them.  Towards  the  close  of  the  campaign  in  1776, 
these  middle  states  were  called  upon  and  did  their  duty  nobly. 
They  were  witnesses  to  the  almost  expiring  flame  of  human 
freedom.  It  was  the  close  struggle  of  life  and  death.  The  line 
of  invisible  division:  and  on  which,  the  unabated  fortitude  of  a 
Washington  prevailed,  and  saved  the  spark  that  has  since  blazed 
in  the  north  with  unrivalled  lustre. 

Let  me  ask,  sir,  what  great  exploits  have  you  performed  1 


THE  CRISIS.  117 

Through  all  the  variety  of  changes  and  opportunities  which  the 
war  has  produced,  I  know  no  one  action  of  yours  that  can  be 
styled  masterly.  You  have  moved  in  and  out,  backwards  and 
forwards,  round  and  round,  as  if  valor  consisted  of  a  military 
jig.  The  history  and  figure  of  your  movements  would  be  truly 
ridiculous  could  they  be  justly  delineated.  They  resemble  the 
labors  of  a  puppy  pursuing  his  tail;  the  end  is  still  at  the  same 
distance,  and  all  the  turnings  round  must  be  done  over  again. 

The  first  appearance  of  affairs  of  Ticonderoga  wore  such  an 
unpromising  aspect,  that  it  was  necessary,  in  July,  to  detach  a 
part  of  the  forces  to  the  support  of  that  quarter,  which  were 
otherwise  destined  or  intended  to  act  against  you ;  and  this,  per- 
haps, has  been  the  means  of  postponing  your  downfall  to 
another  campaign.  The  destruction  of  one  army  at  a  time  is 
work  enough.  We  know,  sir,  what  we  are  about,  what  we  have 
to  do,  and  how  to  do  it. 

Your  progress  from  the  Chesapeake  was  marked  by  no  capi- 
tal stroke  of  policy  or  heroism.  Your  principal  aim  was  to  get 
General  Washington  between  the  Delaware  and  Schuykil,  and 
between  Philadelphia  and  your  army.  In  that  situation,  with 
a  river  on  each  side  of  his  flanks,  which  united  about  five  miles 
below  the  city,  and  your  army  above  him,  you  could  have  inter- 
cepted his  reinforcements  and  supplies,  cut  ofi  all  his  communi- 
cations with  the  country,  and,  if  necessary,  have  despatched 
assistance  to  open  a  passage  for  General  Burgoyne.  This 
scheme  was  too  visible  to  succeed  :  for  had  General  Washington 
suffered  you  to  command  the  open  country  above  him,  I  think 
it  a  very  reasonable  conjecture  that  the  conquest  of  Burgoyne 
would  not  have  taken  place,  because  you  could,  in  that  case, 
have  relieved  him.  It  was  therefore  necessary,  while  that  im- 
portant victory  was  in  suspense,  to  trepan  you  into  a  situation 
in  which  you  could  only  be  on  the  defensive,  without  the  power 
of  affording  him  assistance.  The  manoeuvre  had  its  effect,  and 
Burgoyne  was  conquered. 

There  has  been  something  unmilitary  and  passive  in  you  from 
the  time  of  your  passing  the  Schuykill  and  getting  possession  of 
Philadelphia,  to  the  close  of  the  campaign.  You  mistook  a  trap 
for  a  conquest,  the  probability  of  which  had  been  made  known 
to  Europe,  and  the  edge  of  your  triumph  taken  off  by  your  own 
information  long  before. 

Having  got  you  into  this  situation,  a  scheme  for  a  general 
attack  upon  you  at  Germantown  was  carried  into  execution  on 


118  THE  CRISIS. 

the  4th  of  October,  and  though  the  success  was  not  equal  to  the 
excellence  of  the  plan,  yet  the  attempting  it  proved  the  genius 
of  America  to  be  on  the  rise,  and  her  power  approaching  to 
superiority.  The  obscurity  of  the  morning  was  your  best  friend, 
for  a  fog  is  always  favorable  to  a  hunted  enemy.  Some  weeks 
after  this  you  likewise  planned  an  attack  on  General  Washing- 
ton, while  at  Whitemarsh.  You  marched  out  with  infinite 
parade,  but  on  finding  him  preparing  to  attack  you  next  morn- 
ing, you  prudently  turned  about,  and  retreated  to  Philadelphia 
with  all  the  precipitation  of  a  man  conquered  in  imagination. 

Immediately  after  the  battle  of  Germantown,  the  probability 
of  Burgoyne's  defeat  gave  a  new  policy  to  affairs  in  Pennsyl- 
vania, and  it  was  judged  most  consistent  with  the  general  safety 
of  America,  to  wait  the  issue  of  the  northern  campaign.  Slow 
and  sure  is  sound  work.  The  news  of  that  victory  arrived  in 
our  camp  on  the  18th  of  October,  and  no  sooner  did  the  shout 
of  joy  and  the  report  of  the  thirteen  cannon  reach  your 
ears,  than  you  resolved  upon  a  retreat,  and  the  next  day,  that 
is,  the  19th,  you  withdrew  your  drooping  army  into  Philadel- 
phia. This  movement  was  evidently  dictated  by  fear;  and 
carried  with  it  a  positive  confession  that  you  dreaded  a  second 
attack.  It  was  hiding  yourself  among  women  and  children, 
and  sleeping  away  the  choicest  part  of  a  campaign  in  expensive 
inactivity.  An  army  in  a  city  can  never  be  a  conquering  army. 
The  situation  admits  only  of  defence.  It  is  mere  shelter :  and 
every  military  power  in  Europe  will  conclude  you  to  be  eventu- 
ally "defeated. 

The  time  when  you  made  this  retreat  was  the  very  time  you 
ought  to  have  fought  a  battle  in  order  to  put  yourself  in  a  con- 
dition of  recovering  in  Pennsylvania  what  you  had  lost  in 
Saratoga.  And  the  reason  why  you  did  not  must  be  either 
prudence  or  cowardice ;  the  former  supposes  your  inability,  and 
the  latter  needs  no  explanation  I  draw  no  conclusions,  sir,  but 
such  as  are  naturally  deduced  from  known  and  visible  facts, 
and  such  as  will  always  have  a  being  while  the  facts  which  pro- 
duced them  remain  unaltered. 

After  this  retreat  a  new  difficulty  arose  which  exhibited  the 
power  of  Britain  in  a  very  contemptible  light;  which  was  the 
attack  and  defence  of  Mud-Island.  For  several  weeks  did  that 
little  unfinished  fortress  stand  out  against  all  the  attempts  of 
admiral  and  general  Howe.  It  was  the  fable  of  Bender  real- 
ized on  the  Delaware.  Scheme  after  scheme,  and  force  upon 


THE  CRISIS.  119 

force  were  tried  and  defeated.  The  garrison,  with  scarce  any- 
thing to  cover  them  but  their  bravery,  survived  in  the  midst  of 
mud,  shot  and  shells,  and  were  at  last  obliged  to  give  it  up  more 
to  the  powers  of  time  and  gunpowder  than  to  the  mmtary 
superiority  of  the  besiegers. 

It  is  my  sincere  opinion  that  matters  are  in  a  much  worse 
condition  with  you  than  what  is  generally  known.  Your  mas- 
ter's speech  at  the  opening  of  parliament,  is  like  a  soliloquy  on 
ill  luck.  It  shows  him  to  be  coming  a  little  to  his  reason,  for 
sense  of  pain  is  the  first  symptom  of  recovery  in  profound 
stupefaction.  His  condition  is  deplorable.  He  is  obliged  to 
submit  to  all  the  insults  of  France  and  Spain,  without  daring 
to  know  or  resent  them;  and  thankful  for  the  most  trivial 
evasions  to  the  most  humble  remonstrances.  The  time  was 
when  he  could  not  deign  an  answer  to  a  petition  from  America, 
and  the  time  now  is  when  he  dare  not  give  an  answer  to  an 
affront  from  France.  The  capture  of  Burgoyne's  army  will  sink 
his  consequence  as  much  in  Europe  as  in  America.  In  his 
speech  he  expresses  his  suspicions  at  the  warlike  preparations  of 
France  and  Spain,  and  as  he  has  only  the  one  army  which  you 
command  to  support  his  character  in  the  world  with,  it  remains 
very  uncertain  when,  or  in  what  quarter  it  will  be  most  wanted, 
or  can  be  best  employed ;  and  this  will  partly  account  for  the 
great  care  you  take  to  keep  it  from  action  and  attacks,  for 
should  Burgoyne's  fate  be  yours,  which  it  probably  will,  Eng- 
land may  take  her  endless  farewell  not  only  of  all  America  but 
of  all  the  West-Indies. 

Never  did  a  nation  invite  destruction  upon  itself  with  the 
eagerness  and  the  ignorance  with  which  Britain  has  done. 
Bent  upon  the  ruin  of  a  young  and  unoffending  country,  she 
has  drawn  the  sword  that  has  wounded  herself  to  the  heart, 
and  in  the  agony  of  her  resentment  has  applied  a  poison  for  a 
cure.  Her  conduct  towards  America  is  a  compound  of  rage 
and  lunacy;  she  aims  at  the  government  of  it,  yet  preserves 
neither  dignity  nor  character  in  her  methods  to  obtain  it. 
Were  government  a  mere  manufacture  or  article  of  commerce, 
immaterial  by  whom  it  should  be  made  or  sold,  we  might  as 
well  employ  her  as  another,  but  when  we  consider  it  as  the 
fountain  from  whence  the  general  manners  and  morality  of  a 
country  take  their  rise,  that  the  persons  intrusted  with  the 
execution  thereof  are  by  their  serious  example  and  authority 
to  support  these  principles,  how  abominably  absurd  is  the  idea 


120  THE   CRISIS. 

of  being  hereafter  governed  by  a  set  of  men  who  have  been 
guilty  of  forgery,  perjury,  treachery,  theft,  and  every  species  of 
villainy  which  the  lowest  wretches  on  earth  could  practise  or 
invent.  What  greater  public  curse  can  befall  any  country  than 
to  be  under  such  authority,  and  what  greater  blessing  than  to 
be  delivered  therefrom.  The  soul  of  any  man  of  sentiment 
would  rise  in  brave  rebellion  against  them,  and  spurn  them  from 
the  earth. 

The  malignant  and  venomous  tempered  General  "Vaughan  has 
amused  his  savage  fancy  in  burning  the  whole  town  of  Kings- 
ton, in  York  government,  and  the  late  governor  of  that  state, 
Mr.  Tyron,  in  his  letter  to  General  Parsons,  has  endeavored 
to  justify  it,  and  declared  his  wish  to  burn  the  houses  of  every 
committeeman  in  the  country.  Such  a  confession  from  one  who 
was  once  intrusted  with  the  powers  of  civil  government  is  a 
reproach  to  the  character.  But  it  is  the  wish  and  the  declara- 
tion of  a  man,  whom  anguish  and  disappointment  have  driven 
to  despair,  and  who  is  daily  decaying  into  the  grave  with  con- 
stitutional rottenness. 

There  is  not  in  the  compass  of  language  a  sufficiency  of  words 
to  express  the  baseness  of  your  king,  his  ministry  and  his  army. 
They  have  refined  upon  villainy  till  it  wants  a  name.  To  the 
fiercer  vices  of  former  ages  they  have  added  the  dregs  and 
scummings  of  the  most  finished  rascality,  and  are  so  completely 
sunk  in  serpentine  deceit,  that  there  is  not  left  among  them  one 
generous  enemy. 

From  such  men  and  such  masters,  may  the  gracious  hand  of 
Heaven  preserve  America!  And  though  the  sufferings  she  now 
endures  are  heavy,  and  severe,  they  are  like  straws  in  the  wind 
compared  to  the  weight  of  evils  she  would  feel  under  the  gov- 
ernment of  your  king,  and  his  pensioned  parliament. 

There  is  something  in  meanness  which  excites  a  species  of 
resentment  that  never  subsides,  and  something  in  cruelty  which 
stirs  up  the  heart  to  the  highest  agony  of  human  hatred; 
Britain  hath  filled  up  both  these  charac3ters  till  no  addition  can 
be  made,  and  hath  not  reputation  left  with  us  to  obtain  credit 
for  the  slightest  promise.  The  will  of  God  hath  parted  us,  and 
the  deed  is  registered  for  eternity.  When  she  shall  be  a  spot 
scarcely  visible  among  the  nations,  America  shall  flourish  the 
favorite  of  heaven,  and  the  friend  of  mankind. 

For  the  domestic  happiness  of  Britain  and  the  peace  of  the 
world,  I  wish  she  had  not  a  foot  of  land  but  what  is  circum- 


THE   CRISIS.  121 

scribed  within  her  own  island.  Extent  of  dominion  has  been 
her  ruin,  and  instead  of  civilizing  others  has  brutalized  herself. 
Her  late  reduction  of  India,  under  Clive  and  his  successors, 
•was  not  so  properly  a  conquest  as  an  extermination  of  mankind. 
She  is  the  only  power  who  could  practise  the  prodigal  barbarity 
of  tying  men  to  the  mouths  of  loaded  cannon  and  blowing  them 
away.  It  happens  that  General  Burgoyne,  who  made  the  report 
of  that  horrid  transaction,  in  the  house  of  commons,  is  now  a 
prisoner  with  us,  and  though  an  enemy,  I  can  appeal  to  him  for 
the  truth  of  it,  being  confident  that  he  neither  can  nor  will  deny 
it.  Yet  Clive  received  the  approbation  of  the  last  parliament. 

When  we  take  a  survey  of  mankind,  we  cannot  help  cursing 
the  wretch,  who,  to  the  unavoidable  misfortunes  of  nature,  shall 
wilfully  add  the  calamities  of  war.  One  would  think  there 
were  evils  enough  in  the  world  without  studying  to  increase 
them,  and  that  life  is  sufficiently  short  without  shaking  the  sand 
that  measures  it  The  histories  of  Alexander  and  Charles  of 
Sweden  are  the  histories  of  human  devils;  a  good  man  cannot 
think  of  their  actions  without  abhorrence,  nor  of  their  deaths 
without  rejoicing.  To  soe  tho  bounties  of  heaven  destroyed, 
the  beautiful  face  of  nature  laid  waste,  and  the  choicest  works 
of  creation  and  art  tumbled  into  ruin,  would  fetch  a  curse  from 
the  soul  of  piety  itself.  But  in  this  country  the  aggravation 
is  heightened  by  a  new  combination  of  affecting  circumstances. 
America  was  young,  and,  compared  with  other  countries,  was 
virtous.  None  but  a  Herod  of  uncommon  malice  would  have 
made  war  upon  infancy  and  innocence  and  none  but  a  people 
of  the  most  finished  fortitude,  dared  under  those  circumstances, 
have  resisted  tb  tyranny  The  natives,  or  their  ancestors,  had 
fled  from  the  fnrn,.-r  oppressions  of  England,  and  with  the  in- 
dustry of  bees  hail  •  Inured  a  wilderness  into  a  habitable  world. 
To  Britain  they  were  indebted  for  nothing.  The  country  was 
the  gift  of  heaven,  and  God  alone  is  their  Lord  and  Sovereign. 

The  time,  sir,  will  come  when  you,  in  a  melancholy  hour, 
shall  reckon  up  your  miseries  by  your  murders  in  America. 
Life,  with  you,  begins  to  wear  a  clouded  aspect.  The  vision  of 
pleasurable  delusion  is  wearing  away,  and  changing  to  the  barren 
wild  of  age  and  sorrow.  The  poor  reflection  of  having  served 
your  king  will  yield  you  no  consolation  in  your  parting  moments. 
He  will  crumble  to  the  same  undistinguished  ashes  with  your- 
self, and  have  sins  enough  of  his  own  to  answer  for.  It  is  not 
the  farcial  benedictions  of  a  bishop,  nor  the  cringing  hypocrisy 


122  THE   CRISIS. 

of  a  court  of  chaplains,  nor  the  formality  of  an  act  of  parlia- 
ment, that  can  change  guilt  into  innocents,  or  make  the  punish 
ment  one  pang  the  less.  You  may,  perhaps,  be  unwilling  to  be 
serious,  but  this  destruction  of  the  good  of  Providence,  this 
havoc  of  the  human  race,  and  this  sowing  the  world  with  mis- 
chief, must  be  accounted  for  to  him  who  made  and  governs  it. 
To  us  they  are  only  present  sufferings,  but  to  him  they  are  deep 
rebellions. 

If  there  is  a  sin  superior  to  every  other,  it  is  that  of  wilf u  I 
and  offensive  war.  Most  other  sins  are  circumscribed  within 
narrow  limits,  that  is,  the  power  of  one  man  cannot  give  them 
a  very  general  extension,  and  many  kinds  of  sins  have  only  a 
mental  existence  from  which  no  infection  arises :  but  he  who  is 
the  author  of  a  war,  lets  loose  the  whole  contagion  of  hell,  and 
opens  a  vein  that  bleeds  a  nation  to  death.  We  leave  it  to 
England  and  Indians  to  boast  of  these  honors;  we  feel  no  thirst 
for  such  savage  glory;  a  nobler  fame,  a  purer  spirit  animates 
America.  She  has  taken  Tip  the  sword  of  virtuous  defence ;  she 
has  bravely  put  herself  between  Tyranny  and  Freedom,  between 
a  curse  and  a  blessing,  determined  to  expel  the  one  and  protect 
the  other, 

It  is  the  object  only  of  war  that  makes  it  honorable.  And 
if  their  was  ever  a  just  war  since  the  world  began,  it  is  this  in 
which  America  is  now  engaged.  She  invaded  no  land  of  yours 
She  hired  no  mercenaries  to  burn  your  towns,  nor  Indians  to 
massacre  their  inhabitants.  She  wanted  nothing  from  you ;  and 
was  indebted  for  nothing  to  you;  and  thus  circumstanced,  her 
defence  is  honorable  and  her  posterity  is  certain. 

Yet  it  is  not  on  the  justice  only,  but  likewise  on  the  impor- 
tance of  this  cause  that  I  ground  my  seeming  enthusiastical 
confidence  of  our  success.  The  vast  extension  of  America  makes 
her  of  too  much  value  in  the  scale  of  Providence,  to  be  cast, 
Hke  a  pearl  before  swine,  at  the  feet  of  an  European  island;  and 
of  much  less  consequence  would  it  be  that  Britain  were  sunk  in 
the  sea  than  that  America  should  miscarry.  There  has  been 
such  a  chain  of  extraordinary  events  in  the  discovery  of  this 
country  at  first,  in  the  peopling  and  planting  it  afterwards,  in 
the  rearing  and  nursing  it  to  its  present  state,  and  in  the  pro- 
tection of  it  through  the  present  war,  that  no  man  can  doubt, 
but  Providence  hath  some  nobler  end  to  accomplish,  than  the 
gratification  of  the  petty  elector  of  Hanover,  or  the  ignorant 
and  insignificant  king  of  Britain. 


THE   CRISIS.  12^ 

As  the  blood  of  the  martyrs  hath  been  the  seed  of  the  Christ- 
ian church,  so  the  political  persecutions  of  England  will  and 
has  already  enriched  America  with  industry,  experience,  union, 
and  importance.  Before  the  present  era  she  was  a  mere  chaos 
of  uncemented  colonies,  individually  exposed  to  the  ravages  of  the 
Indians  and  the  invasion  of  any  power  that  Britain  should  be 
at  war  with.  She  had  nothing  that  she  could  call  her  own. 
Her  felicity  depended  upon  accident.  The  convulsions  of  Eur- 
ope might  have  thrown  her  from  one  conqueror  to  another,  till 
she  had  been  the  slave  of  all,  and  ruined  by  every  one;  for 
until  she  had  spirit  enough  to  become  her  own  master,  there 
Araa  no  knowing  io  which  master  she  should  belong.  That 
period,  thank  God,  is  past,  and  she  is  no  longer  the  dependent, 
disunited  colonies  of  Britain,  but  the  Independent  and  United 
States  of  America,  knowing  no  master  but  heaven  and  herself. 
You,  or  your  king,  may  call  this  "delusion,"  "rebellion,"  or 
•vhat  name  you  please.  To  us  it  is  perfectly  indifferent.  The 
issue  will  determine  the  character,  and  time  will  give  it  a  name 
is  lasting  as  his  own. 

You  have  now,  sir,  tried  the  fate  of  three  campaigns,  and  can 
fully  declare  to  England,  that  nothing  is  to  be  got  on  your  part, 
but  blows  and  broken  bones,  and  nothing  on  hers  but  waste  of 
trade  and  credit,  and  an  increase  jof  poverty  and  taxes.  You 
are  now  only  where  you  might  have  been  two  years  ago,  without 
the  loss  of  a  single  ship,  and  yet  not  a  step  more  forward 
towards  the  conquest  of  the  continent;  because,  as  I  have 
already  hinted,  "  an  army  in  a  city  can  never  be  a  conquering 
army."  The  full  amount  of  your  losses,  since  the  beginning  of 
the  war,  exceeds  twenty  thousand  men,  besides  millions  of 
treasure,  for  which  you  have  nothing  in  exchange.  Our  ex- 
penses, though  great,  are  circulated  %ithin  ourselves.  Yours 
is  a  direct  sinking  of  money,  and  that  from  both  ends  at  once ; 
first  in  hiring  troops  out  of  the  nation,  and  in  paying  them 
afterwards,  because  the  money  in  neither  case  can  return  to 
Britain.  We  are  already  in  possession  of  the  prize,  you  only 
in  pursuit  of  it.  To  us  it  is  a  real  treasure,  to  you  it  would  be 
only  an  empty  triumph.  Our  expenses  will  repay  themfielves 
with  tenfold  interest,  while  yours  entail  upon  you  everlasting 
poverty. 

Take  a  review,  sir,  of  the  ground  which  you  have  gone  over, 
and  let  it  teach  you  policy,  if  it  cannot  honesty.  You  stand 
but  on  a  very  tottering  foundation.  A  change  of  the  ministry 


124  THE  CRISIS. 

in  England  may  probably  bring  your  measures  into  question 
and  your  head  to  the  block.  Clive,  with  all  his  successes,  had 
some  difficulty  in  escaping,  and  yours  being  all  a  war  of  losses, 
will  afford  you  less  pretensions,  and  your  enemies  more  grounds 
for  impeachment, 

Go  home,  sir,  and  endeavor  to  save  the  remains  of  your 
ruined  country,  by  a  just  representation  of  the  madness  of  her 
measures.  A  few  moments,  well  applied,  may  yet  preserve 
her  from  political  destruction.  I  am  not  one  of  those  who 
wish  to  see  Europe  in  a  flame,  because  I  am  persuaded  that 
such  an  event  will  not  shorten  the  war.  The  rupture,  at  pre- 
sent, is  confined  between  the  two  powers  of  America  and  Eng- 
land. England  finds  that  she  cannot  conquer  America,  and 
America  has  no  wish  to  conquer  England.  You  are  fighting 
for  what  you  can  never  obtain,  and  we  are  defending  what  we 
ne\er  mean  to  part  with.  A  few  words,  therefore,  settle  the 
bargain.  Let  England  mind  her  own  business  and  we  will 
mind  ours.  Govern  yourselves,  and  we  will  govern  ourselves. 
You  may  then  trade  where  you  please  unmolested  by  us,  and 
we  will  trade  where  we  please  unmolested  by  you;  and  such 
articles  as  we  can  purchase  of  each  other  better  than  elsewhere 
may  be  mutually  done.  If  it  were  possible  that  you  could  carry 
on  the  war  for  twenty  years  you  must  still  come  to  this  point  at 
last,  or  worse,  and  the  sooner  you  think  of  it  the  better  it  will 
be  for  you. 

My  official  situation  enables  me  to  know  the  repeated  insults 
which  Britain  is  obliged  to  put  up  with  from  foreign  powers, 
and  the  wretched  shifts  that  she  is  driven  to,  to  gloss  them  over. 
Her  reduced  strength  and  exhausted  coffers  in  a  three  years' 
war  with  America,  hath  given  a  powerful  superiority  to  France 
mid  Spain.  She  is  not  ncur  a  match  for  them.  But  if  neither 
Council  can  prevail  on  her  to  think,  nor  sufferings  awaken  her 
10  reason,  she  must  e'en  go  on,  till  the  honor  of  England  be- 
comes a  proverb  of  contempt,  and  Europe  dub  her  the  Land  of 
i^ools. 

I  am,  Sir,  with  every  wish  for  an  honorable  peace, 
Your  friend,  enemy,  and  countryman, 

COMMON  SENSE. 

TO  THE  INHABITANTS  OF  AMERICA. 
WITH  all  the  pleasure  with  which  a  man  exchanges  bad  com- 


THE   CRISIS.  125 

pany  for  good,  I  take  my  leave  of  Sir  "William  and  return  to  you. 
It  is  now  nearely  three  years  since  the  tyranny  of  Britain  re- 
ceived it  first  repulse  by  the  arms  of  America.  A  period  which 
has  given  birth  to  a  new  world,  and  erected  a  monument  to  the 
folly  of  the  old. 

I  cannot  help  being  sometimes  surprised  at  the  complimentary 
references  which  I  have  seen  and  heard  made  to  ancient  his- 
tories and  transactions.  The  wisdom,  civil  governments,  and 
sense  of  honor  of  the  states  of  Greece  and  Rome,  are  frequently 
held  up  as  objects  of  excellence  and  imitation.  Mankind  have 
lived  to  every  little  purpose,  if,  at  this  period  of  the  world,  they 
must  go  two  or  three  thousand  years  back  for  lessons  and  ex- 
amples. We  do  great  injustice  to  ourselves  by  placing  them 
in  such  a  superior  line.  We  have  no  just  authority  for  it, 
neither  can  we  tell  why  it  is  that  we  should  suppose  ourselves 
inferior. 

Could  the  mist  of  antiquity  be  cleared  away,  and  men  and 
things  be  viewed  as  they  really  were,  it  is  more  then  probable 
that  they  would  admire  us,  rather  then  we  them.  America  has 
surmounted  a  greater  variety  and  combination  of  difficulties, 
than,  I  believe,  ever  fell  to  the  share  of  any  one  people,  in  the 
same  space  of  time,  and  has  replenished  the  world  with  more 
useful  knowledge  and  sounder  maxims  of  civil  government  than 
were  ever  produced  in  any  age  before. 

Had  it  not  been  for  America,  there  had  been  no  such  thing 
as  freedom  left  throughout  the  whole  universe.  England  hath 
lost  hers  in  a  long  chain  of  rights  reasoning  from  wrong  prin- 
ciples, and  it  is  from,  this  country,  now,  that  she  must  learn  the 
resolution  to  redress  herself,  and  the  wisdom  how  to  accomplish  it. 

The  Grecians  and  Romans  were  strongly  possessed  of  the 
spirit  of  liberty  but  not  the  principle,  for  at  the  time  that  they  were 
determined  not  to  be  slaves  themselves,  they  employed  their 
power  to  enslave  the  rest  of  mankind.  But  this  distinguished 
era  is  blotted  by  no  one  misanthropical  vice  In  short,  if  the 
principle  on  which  the  cause  is  founded,  the  universal  blessings 
that  are  to  rise  from  it,  the  difficulties  that  accompanied  it,  the 
wisdom  with  which  it  has  been  debated,  the  fortitude  by  which 
it  has  been  supported,  the  strength  of  the  power  which  we  had 
to  oppose,  and  the  condition  in  which  we  undertook  it,  be  all 
taken  in  one  view,  we  may  justly  style  it  the  most  virtuous  and 
illustrious  revolution  that  ever  graced  the  history  of  mankind. 

A  good  opinion  of  ourselves  is  exceedingly  necessary  in  private 


126  THE  CRISIS. 

life,  but  absolutely  necessary  in  public  life,  and  of  the  utmost 
importance  in  supporting  national  character.  I  have  no  notion 
of  yielding  the  palm  of  the  United  States  to  any  Grecians  or 
Romans  that  were  ever  born.  We  have  equalled  the  bravest 
in  times  of  danger,  and  excelled  the  wisest  in  construction  of 
civil  governments. 

From  this  agreeable  eminence  let  us  take  a  review  of  present 
affairs.  The  spirit  of  corruption  is  so  inseparable  interwoven 
with  British  politics,  that  their  ministry  suppose  all  mankind 
are  governed  by  the  same  motives.  They  have  no  idea  of  a 
people  submitting  even  to  temporary  inconvenience  from  an 
attachment  to  rights  and  privileges.  Their  plans  of  business 
are  calculated  by  the  hour  and  for  the  hour,  and  are  uniform  in 
nothing  but  the  corruption  which  gives  them  birth.  They  never 
had,  neither  have  they  at  this  time,  any  regular  plan  for  the 
couquest  of  America  by  arms.  They  know  not  how  to  go  about 
it,  neither  have  they  power  to  eSect  it  if  they  did  know.  The 
thing  is  not  within  the  compass  of  human  practicability,  for 
America  is  too  extensive  either  to  be  fully  conquered  or  passively 
defended.  But  she  may  be  actively  defended  by  defeating  or 
making  prisoners  of  the  army  that  invades  her  And  this  is 
the  only  system  of  defence  that  can  be  effectual  in  a  large 
country. 

There  is  something  in  a  war  carried  on  by  invasion  which 
makes  it  differ  in  circumstances  from  any  other  mode  of  war, 
because  he  who  conducts  it  cannot  tell  whether  the  ground  he 
gains  be  for  him,  or  against  him,  when  he  first  obtains  it.  In 
the  winter  of  1776,  General  Howe  marched  with  an  air  of  vic- 
tory through  the  Jerseys,  the  consequence  of  which  was  his 
defeat;  and  General  Burgoyne  at  Saratoga  experienced  the  same 
fate  from  the  same  cause.  The  Spaniards,  about  two  years  ago, 
were  defeated  by  the  Algerines  is  the  same  manner,  that  is, 
their  first  triumphs  became  a  trap  in  which  they  were  totally 
routed.  And  whoever  will  attend  to  the  circumstances  and 
events  of  a  war,  carried  on  by  invasion,  will  find,  that  any  in- 
vader, in  order  to  be  finally  conquered,  must  first  begin  to 
conquer. 

I  confess  myself  one  of  those  who  believe  the  loss  of  Phila- 
delphia to  be  attended  with  more  advantages  than  injuries. 
The  case  stood  thus :  The  enemy  imagined  Philadelphia  to  be 
of  more  importance  to  us  than  it  really  was;  for  we  all  know 
that  it  had  long  ceased  to  be  a  port;  not  a  cargo  of  goods  had 


THE  CKISIS.  127 

oeen  brought  into  it  for  near  a  twelvemonth,  nor  any  fixed 
manufactories,  nor  even  ship-building,  carried  on  in  it;  yet  as 
the  enemy  believed  the  conquest  of  it  to  be  practicable,  and  to 
that  belief  added  the  absurd  idea  that  the  soul  of  all  America 
was  centred  there,  and  would  be  conquered  there,  it  naturally 
follows  that  their  possession  of  it,  by  not  answering  the  end 
proposed,  must  break  up  the  plans  they  had  so  foolishly  gone 
upon,  and  either  oblige  them  to  form  a  new  one,  for  which 
their  present  strength  is  not  sufficient,  or  give  over  the  attempt. 

We  never  had  so  small  an  army  to  fight  against,  nor  so  fair 
an  opportunity  of  final  success  as  now.  The  death  wound  is 
already  given.  The  day  is  ours  if  we  follow  it  up.  The  enemy, 
by  his  situation,  is  within  our  reach,  and  by  his  reduced 
strength  is  within  our  power.  The  ministers  of  Britain  may 
rage  as  they  please,  but  our  part  is  to  conquer  their  armies. 
Let  them  wrangle  and  welcome,  but  let  it  not  draw  our  attention 
from  the  one  thing  needful.  Here,  in  this  spot  is  our  own 
business  to  be  accomplished,  our  felicity  secured.  What  we 
have  now  to  do  is  as  clear  as  light,  and  the  way  to  do  it  is  as 
straight  as  a  line.  It  needs  not  to  be  commented  upon,  yet,  in 
order  to  be  perfectly  understood  I  will  put  a  case  that  cannot 
admit  of  a  mistake. 

Had  the  armies  under  Generals  Howe  and  Burgoyne  been 
united,  and  taken  post  at  Germantown,  and  had  the  northern 
army  under  General  Gates  been  joined  to  that  under  General 
Washington,  at  Whitemarsh,  the  consequence  would  have  been 
a  general  action;  and  if  in  that  action  we  had  killed  and  taken 
the  same  number  of  officers  and  men,  that  is,  between  nine  and 
ten  thousand,  with  the  same  quantity  of  artillery,  arms,  stores, 
etc.,  as  have  been  taken  at  the  northward,  and  obliged  general 
Howe  with  the  remains  of  his  army,  that  is,  with  the  same 
number  he  now  commands,  to  take  shelter  in  Philadelphia,  we 
should  certainly  have  thought  ourselves  the  greatest  heroes  in 
the  world;  and  should,  as  soon  as  the  season  permitted,  have 
collected  together  all  the  force  of  the  continent  and  laid  siege 
to  the  city,  for  it  requires  a  much  greater  force  to  besiege  an 
enemy  in  a  town  than  to  defeat  him  in  the  field.  The  case 
now  is  just  the  same  as  if  it  had  been  produced  by  the  means  I 
have  here  supposed.  Between  nine  and  ten  thousand  have 
been  killed  and  taken,  all  their  stores  are  in  our  possession,  and 
General  Howe,  in  consequence  of  that  victory,  has  thrown  him- 
self for  shelter  into  Philadelphia.  He,  or  his  trifling  friend 


128  THE  CRISIS. 

Galloway,  may  form  what  pretences  they  please,  yet  no  just 
reason  can  be  given  for  their  going  into  winter  quarters  so 
early  as  the  19th  of  October,  but  their  apprehensions  of  a 
defeat  if  they  continued  out,  or  their  conscious  inability  of 
keeping  the  field  with  safety.  I  see  no  advantage  which  can 
arise  to  America  by  hunting  the  enemy  from  state  to  state.  It 
is  a  triumph  without  a  prize,  and  wholly  unworthy  the  attention 
of  a  people  determined  to  conquer.  Neither  can  any  state 
promise  itself  security  while  the  enemy  remains  in  a  condition 
to  transport  themselves  from  one  part  of  the  continent  Jo 
another.  Howe,  likewise,  Cannot  conquer  where  we  have  no 
army  to  oppose,  therefore  any  such  removals  in  him  are  mean 
and  cowardly,  and  reduces  Britain  to  a  common  pilferer.  If 
he  retreats  from  Philadelphia,  he  will  be  despised;  if  he  stays, 
he  may  be  shut  up  and  starved  out,  and  the  country,  if  he  ad- 
vances into  it,  may  become  his  Saratoga.  He  has  his  choice  of 
evils  and  we  of  opportunities.  If  he  moves  early,  it  is  not 
only  a  sign  but  a  proof  that  be  expects  no  reinforcements,  and 
his  delay  will  prove  that  he  either  waits  for  the  arrival  of  a 
plan  to  go  upon,  or  force  to  execute  it,  or  both;  in  which  case 
our  strength  will  increase  more  than  his,  therefore  in  any  case 
we  cannot  be  wrong  if  we  do  but  proceed. 

The  particular  condition  of  Pennsylvania  deserves  the  attent- 
ion of  all  the  other  states.  Her  military  strength  must  not  be 
estimated  by  the  number  of  inhabitants.  Here  are  men  of  all 
nations,  characters,  professions  and  interests.  Here  are  the 
firmest  whig?,  surviving,  like  sparks  in  the  ocean,  unquenched 
and  uncooled  in  the  midst  of  discouragement  and  disaffection. 
Here  are  men  loosing  their  all  with  cheerfulness,  and  collecting 
tire  and  fortitude  from  the  flames  of  their  own  estates.  Here 
are  others  skulking  in  secret,  many  making  a  market  of  the 
times,  and  numbers  who  are  changing  to  whig  or  tory  with  the 
circumstances  of  every  day. 

It  is  by  mere  dint  of  fortitude  and  perseverance  that  the 
whigs  of  this  state  have  been  able  to  maintain  so  good  a  counte- 
nance, and  do  even  whpt  they  have  done.  We  want  help,  and 
the  sooner  it  can  arrive  the  more  effectual  it  will  be.  The 
invaded  state,  be  it  which  it  may,  will  always  feel  an  additional 
burden  upon  its  back,  and  be  hard  set  to  support  its  civil  power 
with  sufficent  authority :  and  this  difficulty  -will  rise  or  fall,  in 
proportion  as  the  other  states  throw  in  their  assistance  to  the 
common  cause. 


THE  CRISIS.  329 

The  enemy  will  most  probably  make  many  manoeuvres  at  the 
opening  of  this  campaign,  to  amuse  and  draw  off  the  attention 
of  the  several  states  from  the  one  thing  needful.  We  may 
expect  to  hear  of  alarms  and  pretended  expeditions  to  this  place 
and  that  place,  to  the  southward,  the  eastward,  and  the  north- 
ward, all  intended  to  prevent  our  forming  into  one  formidable 
body.  The  less  the  enemy's  strength  is,  the  more  subtleties  of 
this  kind  will  they  make  use  of.  Their  existence  depends  upon 
it,  because  the  force  of  America,  when  collected,  is  sufficent  to 
swallow  their  present  army  up.  It  is  therefore  our  business  to 
triake  short  work  of  it,  by  bending  our  whole  attention  to  this 
one  principal  point,  for  the  instant  that  the  main  body  under 
General  Howe  is  defeated,  all  the  inferior  alarms  throughout 
the  continent,  like  so  many  shadows,  will  follow  his  downfall. 
The  only  way  to  finish  a  war  with  the  least  possible  blood- 
shed, or  perhaps  without  any,  is  to  collect  an  army,  against 
the  power  of  which  the  enemy  shall  have  no  chance.  By  not 
doing  this,  we  prolong  the  war,  and  double  both  the  calamities 
and  expenses  of  it.  What  a  rich  and  happy  country  would 
America  be,  were  she,  by  a  vigorous  exertion,  to  reduce  Howe 
ab  she  has  reduced  Burgoyne.  Her  currency  would  rise  to 
millions  beyond  its  present  value.  Every  man  would  be  rich, 
and  every  man  would  have  it  in  his  power  to  be  happy.  And 
why  not  do  these  things  ?  What  is  their  to  hinder  1  America 
is  her  own  mistress,  and  can  do  what  she  pleases. 

If  we  had  not  at  this  time  a  man  in  the  field,  we  could, 
nevertheless,  raise  an  army  in  a  few  weeks  sufficient  to  over- 
whelm all  the  force  which  General  Howe  at  present  commands. 
Vigor  and  determination  will  do  any  thing  and  every  thing. 
We  began  the  war  with  this  kind  of  spirit,  why  not  end  it  with 
the  same?  Here,  gentlemen,  is  the  enemy.  Here  is  the  army. 
The  interest,  the  happiness  of  all  America,  is  centered  in  this 
half-ruined  spot.  Come  and  help  us.  Here  are  laurels,  come 
and  share  them.  Here  are  tories,  come  and  help  us  to  expel 
them.  Here  are  whigs  that  will  make  you  welcome,  and  enemies 
that  dread  your  coming. 

The  worst  of  all  policy  is  that  of  doing  things  by  halves. 
Penny  wise  and  pound  foolish  has  been  the  ruin  of  thousands. 
The  present  spring,  if  rightly  improved,  will  free  us  from  all 
troubles,  and  save  us  the  expense  of  millions.  We  have  now 
only  one  army  to  cope  with.  No  opportunity  can  be  fairer;  no 
nrospect  more  promising.  I  shall  conclude  this  paper  with  a 


130  THE   CRISIS. 

few  outlines  of  a  plan,  either  for  filling  up  the  battalions  with 
expedition,  or  for  raising  an  additional  force,  for  any  limited 
time,  on  any  sudden  emergency. 

That  in  which  every  man  is  interested,  is  every  man's  duty  to 
support.  And  any  burden  which  falls  equally  on  all  men,  and 
from  which  every  man  is  to  receive  an  equal  benefit,  is  consistent 
with  the  most  perfect  ideas  of  liberty.  I  would  wish  to  revive 
something  of  that  virtuous  ambition  which  first  called  America 
into  the  field.  Then  every  man  was  eager  to  do  his  part,  and 
perhaps  the  principal  reason  why  we  have  in  any  degree  fallen 
therefrom,  is,  because  we  did  not  set  a  right  value  by  it  at  first, 
but  left  it  to  blaze  out  of  itself,  instead  of  regulating  and  pre- 
serving it  by  just  proportions  of  rest  and  service. 

Suppose  any  state  whose  number  of  effective  inhabitants  was 
80,000,  should  be  required  to  furnish  3,200  men  towards  the 
defence  of  the  continent  on  any  sudden  emergency. 

1st,  Let  the  whole  number  of  effective  inhabitants  be  divided 
into  hundreds:  then  if  each  of  those  hundreds  turn  out  four 
men,  the  whole  number  of  3,200  will  be  had. 

2nd,  Let  the  name  of  each  hundred  men  be  entered  in  a  book, 
and  let  four  dollars  be  collected  from  each  man,  with  as  much 
more  as  any  of  the  gentlemen,  whose  abilities  can  afford  it,  shall 
please  to  throw  in,  which  gifts  likewise,  shall  be  entered  against 
the  names  of  the  donors. 

3rd,  Let  the  sums  so  collected  be  offered  as  a  present,  over 
and  above  the  botnty  of  twenty  dollars,  to  any  four  who  may 
be  inclined  to  propose  themselves  as  volunteers;  if  more  than 
four  offer,  the  majority  of  the  subscribers  present  shall  determine 
which :  if  none  offer,  then  four  out  of  the  hundred  shall  be  taken 
by  lot,  who  shall  be  entitled  to  the  said  sums,  and  shall  either 
go,  or  provide  others  that  will,  in  the  space  of  six  days. 

4th,  As  it  will  always  happen,  that  in  the  space  of  ground  on 
which  an  hundred  men  shall  live,  there  will  be  always  a  number 
of  persons  who,  by  age  and  infirmity,  are  incapable  of  doing 
personal  service,  and  as  such  persons  are  generally  possessed  of 
the  greatest  part  of  the  property  in  any  country,  their  portion 
of  service,  thereof  ore,  will  be  to  furnish  each  man  with  a  blanket, 
which  will  make  a  regimental  coat,  jacket,  and  breeches,  or 
clothes  in  lien  thereof,  and  another  for  a  watch  cloak,  and  two 
pair  of  shoes ;  for  however  choice  people  may  be  of  these  things 
matters  not  in  cases  of  this  kind ;  those  who  live  always  in  houses 
can  find  many  ways  to  keep  themselves  warm,  but  it  is  a  shamp 


THE  CRISIS.  131 

and  a  sin  to  suffer  a  soldier  in  the  field  to  want  a  blanket  while 
there  is  one  in  the  country. 

Should  the  clothing  not  be  wanted,  the  superannuated  or 
infirm  persons  possessing  property,  may,  in  lieu  thereof,  throw 
in  their  money  subscriptions  towards  increasing  the  bounty; 
for  though  age  will  naturally  exempt  a  person  from  personal 
service,  it  cannot  exempt  him  from  his  share  of  the  charge,  be- 
cause the  men  are  raised  for  the  defence  of  property  and 
liberty  jointly. 

There  never  was  a  scheme  against  which  objections  might  not 
be  raised.  But  this  alone  is  not  a  sufficient  reason  for  rejection, 
The  only  line  to  judge  truly  upon,  is  to  draw  out  and  admit  all 
the  objections  which  can  fairly  be  made,  and  place  against  them 
all  the  contrary  qualities,  conveniences  and  advantages,  then 
by  striking  a  balance  you  come  at  the  true  character  of  any 
scheme,  principle  or  position. 

The  most  material  advantages  of  the  plan  here  proposed  are, 
ease,  expedition,  and  cheapness;  yet  the  men  so  raised  get  a 
much  larger  bounty  than  is  anywhere  at  present  given ;  because 
all  the  expenses,  extravagance,  and  consequent  idleness  of  re- 
cruiting are  saved  or  prevented.  The  country  incurs  no  new 
debt  nor  interest  thereon ;  the  whole  matter  being  all  settled  at 
once  and  entirely  done  with.  It  is  a  subscription  answering 
all  the  purposes  of  a  tax,  without  either  the  charge  or  trouble 
of  collecting.  The  men  are  ready  for  the  field  with  the  greatest 
possible  expedition,  because  it  becomes  the  duty  of  the  in- 
habitants themselves,  in  every  part  of  the  country,  to  find 
their  proportion  of  men,  instead  of  leaving  it  to  a  recruiting 
sergeant,  who,  be  he  ever  so  industrious,  cannot  know  always 
where  to  apply. 

I  do  not  propose  this  as  a  regular  digested  plan,  neither  will 
the  limits  of  this  paper  admit  of  any  further  remarks  upon  it. 
I  believe  it  to  be  a  hint  capable  of  much  improvement,  and  as 
such  submit  it  to  the  public. 

COMMON  SENSE. 

TJAIKJASTKB,  March  tl,  £78. 


132  THE  CRISIS. 


NUMBER  VL 

TO  THE  EARL  OF  CARLISLE,  GENERAL  CLINTON,  AND  WIL- 
LIAM EDEN,  ESQ.,  BRITISH  COMMISIONERS,  AT  NEW 
YORK. 

THERE  is  a  dignity  in  the  warm  passions  of  a  whig,  which  is 
never  to  be  found  in  the-  cold  malice  of  a  tory.  In  the  one 
nature  is  only  heated — in  the  other  she  is  poisoned.  The 
instant  the  former  has  it  in  his  power  to  punish,  he  feels  a  dis- 
position to  forgive;  but  the  canine  venom  of  the  latter  knows 
no  relief  but  revenge.  This  general  distinction  will,  1  believe, 
apply  in  all  cases,  and  suit  as  well  the  meridian  of  England  as 
America. 

As  I  presume  your  last  proclamation  will  undergo  the  stric- 
tures of  other  pens,  I  shall  confine  my  remarks  to  only  a  few 
parts  thereof.  All  that  you  have  said  might  have  been  com- 
prised in  half  the  compass.  It  is  tedious  and  unmeaning,  and 
only  a  repetition  of  your  former  follies,  with  here  and  there  an 
offensive  aggravation.  Your  cargo  of  pardons  will  have  no 
market — it  is  unfashionable  to  look  at  them: — even  speculation 
is  at  an  end.  They  have  become  a  perfect  drug,  and  no  way 
calculated  for  the  climate. 

In  the  course  of  your  proclamation  you  say,  "  The  policy  as 
well  as  the  benevolence  of  Grea.  Britain  have  thus  far  checked 
the  extremes' of  war,  when  they  tended  to  distress  a  people  still 
considered  as  their  fellow  subjects,  and  to  desolate  a  country 
shortly  to  become  again  a  source  of  mutual  advantage."  What 
you  mean  by  "  the  benevolence  of  Great  Britain  "  is  to  me  incon- 
ceivable. To  put  a  plain  question :  do  you  consider  yourselves 
men  or  devils  1  For  until  this  point  is  settled,  no  determinate 
sense  can  be  put  upon  the  expression.  You  have  already 
equalled,  and  in  many  cases  excelled,  the  savages  of  either 
Indies,  and  if  you  have  yet  a  cruelty  in  store  you  must  have 
imported  it,  unmixed  with  every  human  material,  from  the 
original  warehouse  of  hell 

To  the  interposition  of  Providence,  and  her  blessings  on  our 
endeavprs,  and  not  to  British  benevolence,  are  we  indebted  for 
the  short  chain  that  limits  your  ravages.     Remember  you  do 
not  at  this  time,  command  a  foot  of  land  on  the  continent  o 
America.     Staten   Island,  York  Island,  a  small  part  of  Lou 


THE   CRISIS.  133 

Island,  and  Rhode  Island,  circumscribe  your  power;  and  even 
those  you  hold  at  the  expense  of  the  West  Indies.  To  avoid  a 
defeat,  or  prevent  a  desertion  of  your  troops,  you  have  taken 
up  your  quarters  in  holes  and  corners  of  inaccessible  security  ', 
and  in  order  to  conceal  what  every  one  can  perceive,  you  now 
endeavor  to  impose  your  weakness  upon  us  for  an  act  of 
mercy.  If  you  think  to  succeed  by  such  shadowy  devices,  you 
are  but  infants  in  the  political  world;  you  have  the  A,  B,  C, 
of  stratagem  yet  to  learn,  and  are  wholly  ignorant  of  the  people 
you  have  to  contend  with.  Like  men  in  a  state  of  intoxication, 
you  forget  that  the  rest  of  the  world  have  eyes,  and  that  the 
same  stupidity  which  conceals  you  from  yourselves  exposes  you 
to  their  satire  and  contempt. 

The  paragraph  which  I  have  quoted,  stands  as  an  introduction 
to  the  following  :  "  But  when  that  country  (America)  professes 
the  unnatural  design,  not  only  of  estranging  herself  from  us,  but 
of  mortgaging  herself  and  her  resources  to  our  enemies,  the 
whole  contest  is  changed  :  and  the  question  is  how  far  Great 
Britain  may,  by  every  means  in  her  power,  destroy,  or  render 
useless,  a  connexion  contrived  for  her  ruin,  and  the  aggrandize- 
ment of  France.  Under  such  circumstances,  the  laws  of  self- 
preservation  must  direct  the  conduct  of  Britain,  and  if  the 
British  colonies  are  to  become  an  accession  to  France,  will  dir- 
ect her  to  render  that  accession  of  as  little  avail  as  possible  to 
her  enemy  " 

I  consider  you  in  this  declaration,  like  madmen  biting  in  the 
hour  of  death.  It  contains  likewise  a  fradulent  meanness ;  for, 
in  order  td  justify  a  barbarous  conclusion,  you  have  advanced  a 
false  position.  The  treaty  we  have  formed  with  France  is  open, 
noble  and  generous.  It  is  true  policy,  founded  on  sound 
philosophy,  and  neither  a  surrender  or  mortgage,  as  you  would 
scandalously  insinuate.  I  have  seen  every  article,  and  speak 
from  positive  knowledge.  In  France,  we  have  found  an  affec- 
tionate friend  and  faithful  ally ;  in  Britain,  we  have  found 
nothing  but  tyranny,  cruelty,  and  infidelity. 

But  the  happiness  is,  that  the  mischief  you  threaten,  is  not  in 
your  power  to  execute;  and  if  it  were,  the  punishment  would  re- 
turn upon  you  in  a  ten-fold  degree.  The  humanity  of  America 
hath  hitherto  restrained  her  from  acts  of  retaliation,  and  the  affec- 
tion she  retains  for  many  individuals  in  England,  who  have  fed, 
clothed  and  comforted  her  prisoners,  has,  to  the  present  day. 
warded  off  her  resentment,  and  operated  as  a  screen  to  the 


134  THE  CRISIS. 

whole.  But  even  these  considerations  must  cease,  when 
national  objects  interfere  and  oppose  them.  Repeated  aggra- 
vations will  provoke  a  retort,  and  policy  justify  the  measure. 
We  mean  now  to  take  you  seriously  up  upon  your  own  ground 
and  principle,  and  as  you  do,  so  shall  you  be  done  by. 

You  ought  to  know,  gentlemen,  that  England  and  Scotland 
are  far  more  exposed  to  incendiary  desolation  than  America,  in 
her  present  state,  can  possibly  be.  We  occupy  a  country,  with 
but  few  towns,  and  whose  riches  consist  in  land  and  annual 
produce.  The  two  last  can  suffer  but  little,  and  that  only 
within  a  very  limited  compass.  In  Britain  it  is  otherwise. 
Her  wealth  lies  chiefly  in  cities  and  large  towns,  the  deposi- 
tories of  manufactories  and  fleets  of  merchantmen. — There  is 
not  a  nobleman's  country  seat  but  may  be  laid  in  ashes  by  a 
single  person.  Your  own  may  probably  contribute  to  the 
proof :  in  short,  there  is  no  evil  which  cannot  be  returned  when 
you  come  to  incendiary  mischief.  The  ships  in  the  Thames 
may  certainly  be  as  easily  set  on  fire  as  the  temporary  bridge 
was  a  few  years  ago  •  yet  of  that  affair  no  discovery  was  ever 
made ;  and  the  loss  you  would  sustain  by  such  an  event,  executed 
at  a  proper  season,  is  infinitely  greater  than  any  you  can  inflict. 
The  East-India  house,  and  the  bank,  neither  are,  nor  ran  be 
secure  from  this  sort  of  destruction,  and,  as  Dr.  Price  justly 
observes,  a  fire  at  the  latter  would  bankrupt  the  nation  It 
has  never  been  the  custom  of  France  and  England,  when  at 
war.  to  make  those  havocs  on  each  other,  because  the  e»se  with 
which  they  could  retaliate,  rendered  it  as  impolitic  ^  as  \f  each 
had  destroyed  his  own. 

But  think  not,  gentlemen,  that  our  distance  secures  you,  or 
our  invention  fails  us.  We  can  much  easier  accomplish  such  a 
point  than  any  nation  in  Europe.  We  talk  the  same  language, 
dress  in  the  same  habits,  and  appear  with  the  same  manners  as 
yourselves.  We  can  pass  from  one  part  of  England  to  another 
unsuspected;  many  of  us  are  as  well  acquainted  with  the  country 
as  you  are,  and  should  you  impolitically  provoke  us,  you  will 
most  assuredly  lament  the  effects  of  it.  Mischiefs  of  this  kind 
require  no  army  to  execute  them.  The  means  are  obvious,  and 
the  opportunities  unguardable.  I  hold  up  a  warning  to  your 
senses,  if  you  have  any  left,  and  "  to  the  unhappy  people  like- 
wise, whose  affairs  are  committed  to  you."*  I  call  not  with 
the  rancor  of  an  enemy,  but  the  earnestness  of  a  friend,  on 

*  General  Clinton's  letter  fox  Congrew. 


THE   CRISIS.  135 

the  deluded  people  of  England,  lest,  between  your  blunders  and 
theirs,  they  sink  beneath  the  evils  contrived  for  us. 

"  He  who  lives  in  a  glass  house,"  says  a  Spanish  proverb, 
"  should  never  begin  throwing  stones."  This,  gentlemen,  is 
exactly  your  case,  and  you  must  be  the  most  ignorant  of  man- 
kind, or  suppose  us  so,  not  to  see  on  which  side  the  balance  of 
accounts  will  fall.  There  are  many  other  modes  of  retail iatioii, 
which,  for  several  reasons,  I  choose  not  to  mention.  But  be 
assured  of  this,  that  the  instant  you  put  your  threat  into 
execution,  a  counter-blow  will  follow  it.  If  you  openly  profess 
yourselves  savages,  it  is  high  time  we  should  treat  you  as  such, 
and  if  nothing  but  distress  can  recover  you  to  reason,  to  punish 
will  become  an  office  of  charity. 

While  your  fleet  lay  last  winter  in  the  Delaware,  I  offered 
my  service  to  the  Pennsylvania  navy-board  then  at  Trenton, 
as  one  who  would  make  a  party  with  them,  or  any  four  or  five 
gentlemen,  on  an  expedition  down  the  river  to  set  fire  to  it,  and 
though  it  was  not  then  accepted,  nor  the  thing  personally  at- 
tempted, it  is  more  than  probable  that  your  own  folly  will  pro- 
voke a  much  more  ruinous  act.  Say  not  when  mischief  is  done, 
that  you  had  not  warning,  and  remember  that  we  do  not  begin 
it,  but  mean  to  repay  it.  Thus^much  for  your  savage  and  im- 
politic threat. 

In  another  part  of  your  proclamation  you  say,  "  But  if  the 
honors  of  a  military  life  are  become  the  object  of  the  Americans, 
let  them  seek  those  honors  under  the  banners  of  their  rightful 
sovereign,  and  in  fighting  the  battles  of  the  united  British 
empire,  against  our  late  mutual  and  natural  enemies."  Surely  ! 
the  union  of  absurdity  with  madness  was  never  marked  in  more 
distinguishable  lines  than  these.  Your  rightful  sovereign,  as 
you  call  him,  may  do  well  enough  for  you,  who  dare  not  inquire 
into  the  humble  capacities  of  the  man;  but  we,  who  estimate 
persons  and  things  by  their  real  worth,  cannot  suffer  our  judg- 
ments to  be  so  imposed  upon ;  and  unless  it  is  your  wish  to  see 
him  exposed,  it  ought  to  be  your  endeavor  to  keep  him  out  of 
sight.  The  less  you  have  to  say  about  him  the  better.  We 
have  done  with  him,  and  that  ought  to  be  answer  enough. 
You  have  been  often  told  so.  Strange  !  that  the  answer  must 
be  so  often  repeated.  You  go  a  begging  with  your  king  as 
with  a  brat,  or  with  some  unsaleable  commodity  you  are  tired 
of;  and  though  every  body  tells  you  no,  no,  still  you  keep 
hawking  him  anout.  But  there  is  one  that  will  have  him  in  a 


136  THE  CRISIS. 

little  time,  and  as  -we  have  no  inclination  to  disappoint  you  of 
a  customer,  we  bid  nothing  for  him. 

The  impertinent  folly  of  the  paragraph  that  I  hare  juit 
quoted,  deserves  no  other  notice  than  to  be  laughed  at  and 
thrown  by,  but  the  principle  on  which  it  is  founded  is  detest- 
able. We  are  invited  to  submit  to  a  man  who  has  attempted 
by  every  cruelty  to  destroy  us,  and  to  join  him  in  making  war 
against  France,  who  is  already  at  war  against  him  for  our 
support. 

Can  Bedlam,  in  concert  with  Lucifer,  form  a  more  mad  and 
levilish  request?  Were  it  possible  a  people  could  sink  into 
such  apostacy  they  would  deserve  to  be  swept  from  the  earth 
like  the  inhabitants  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah.  The  proposition 
is  an  universal  affront  to  the  rank  which  man  Lolds  in  the 
creation,  and  an  indignity  to  him  who  placed  him  there.  It 
opposes  him  made  up  without  a  spark  of  honor,  and  under  no 
>bligation  to  God  or  man. 

What  sort  of  men  or  Christians  must  you  suppose  the 
Americans  to  be,  who,  after  seeing  their  most  humble  petitions 
insultingly  rejected;  the  most  grievous  laws  passed  to  distress 
them  in  every  quarter;  and  undeclared  war  let  loose  upon 
them,  and  Indians  and  negroes  invited  to  the  slaughter;  who, 
after  seeing  their  kinsmen  murdered,  their  fellow  citizens 
starved  to  death  iu  prisons,  and  their  houses  and  property  de- 
stroyed and  burned;  who,  after  the  most  serious  appeals  to 
heaven;  the  most  solemn  abjuration  by  oath  of  all  government 
connected  with  you,  and  the  most  heart-felt  pledges  and  p^o- 
testations  of  faith  to  each  other;  and  who,  after  soliciting  the 
friendship,  and  entering  into  alliances  with  other  nations,  should 
at  last  break  through  all  these  obligations,  civil  and  divine,  by 
Complying  with  your  horrid  and  infernal  proposal  ?  Ought  we 
ever  after  to  be  considered  as  a  part  of  the  human  race  ?  Or 
mght  we  not  rather  to  be  blotted  from  the  society  of  mankind, 
.aid  become  a  spectacle  of  misery  to  the  world  1  But  there  is 
something  in  corruption,  which,  like  a  jaundiced  eye,  transfers 
the  color  of  itself  to  the  object  it  looks  upon,  and  sees  every 
thing  stained  and  impure;  for  unless  you  were  capable  of  such 
conduct  yourselves,  you  would  never  have  supposed  such  a 
character  in  us.  The  offer  fixes  your  infamy.  It  exhibits  you 
as  a  nation  without  faith ;  with  whom  oaths  and  treaties  are 
considered  as  trifles,  and  the  breaking  of  them  as  the  breaking 
of  a  bubble.  Regard  to  decency,  or  to  rank,  might  have  taugh' 


THE  CRISIS.  137 

you  better;  or  pride  inspired  you,  though  virtue  could  not. 
There  is  not  left  a  step  in  the  degradation  of  character  to  which 
you  can  now  descend;  you  have  put  your  foot  on  the  ground 
floor,  and  the  key  of  the  dungeon  is  turned  upon  you. 

That  the  invitation  may  want  nothing  of  being  a  complete 
monster,  you  have  though  proper  to  finish  it  with  an  assertion 
which  has  no  foundation,  either  in  fact  or  philosophy  ;  and  as 
Mr.  Ferguson,  your  secretary ,  is  a  man  of  letters,  and  has 
made  civil  society  his  study,  and  published  a  treatise  on  that 
subject,  I  address  this  part  to  him. 

In  the  close  of  the  paragraph  which  I  last  quoted,  France 
is  styled  the  "  natural  enemy  "  of  England,  and  by  way  of 
lugging  us  into  some  strange  idea,  she  is  styled  "  the  late 
mutual  and  natural  enemy"  of  both  countries.  I  deny  that 
she  ever  was  a  natural  enemy  of  either :  and  that  there  does 
not  exist  in  nature  such  a  principle.  The  expression  is  an  un- 
meaning barbarism,  and  wholly  unphilosophical,  when  applied 
to  beings  of  the  same  species,  let  their  station  in  the  creation 
be  what  it  may.  "We  have  a  perfect  idea  of  a  natural  enemy 
when  we  think  of  the  devil,  because  the  enmity  is  perpetual, 
unalterable,  and  unabateable.  It  Admits  neither  of  peace, 
truce,  or  treaty ;  consequently  the  warfare  is  eternal,  and  there- 
fore it  is  natural.  But  man  with  man  cannot  arrange  in  the 
same  opposition.  Their  quarrels  are  accidental  and  equivocally 
created.  They  become  friends  or  enemies  as  the  change  of 
temper,  or  the  cast  of  interest  inclines  them.  The  Creator  of 
man  did  not  constitute  them  the  natural  enemy  of  each  other. 
He  has  not  made  any  one  order  of  beings  so.  Even  wolves 
may  quarrel,  still  they  herd  together.  If  any  two  nations  are 
so,  then  must  all  nations  be  so,  otherwise  it  is  not  nature  but 
custom,  and  the  offence  frequently  originates  with  the  accuser. 
England  is  as  truly  the  natural  enemy  of  France,  as  France  is 
of  England,  and  perhaps  more  so.  Separated  from  the  rest 
of  Europe,  she  has  contracted  an  unsocial  habit  of  manners, 
and  imagines  in  others  the  jealousy  she  creates  in  herself. 
Never  long  satisfied  with  peace,  she  supposes  the  discontent 
universal,  and  buoyed  up  with  her  own  importance,  conceives 
herself  to  be  the  object  pointed  at.  The  expression  has  been 
often  used,  and  always  with  a  fraudulent  design ;  for  when  the 
idea  of  a  natural  enemy  is  conceived,  it  prevents  all  other  in- 
quiries, and  the  real  cause  of  the  quarrel  is  hidden  in  the 
universality  of  the  conceit.  Men  start  at  the  notion  of  a 


138  THE  CRISIS. 

natural  enemy,  and  ask  no  other  question.  The  cry  obtains 
credit  like  the  alarm  of  a  mad  dog,  and  is  one  of  those  kind 
of  tricks,  which,  by  operating  on  the  common  passions,  secures 
their  interest  through  their  folly. 

But  we,  sir,  are  not  to  be  thus  imposed  upon.  We  live  in  a 
large  world,  and  have  extended  our  ideas  beyond  the  limits 
and  prejudices  of  an  island.  We  hold  out  the  right  hand  of 
friendship  to  all  the  universe,  and  we  conceive  that  there  is  a 
sociality  in  the  manners  of  France,  which  is  much  better  dis- 
posed to  peace  and  negociation  than  that  of  England,  and  until 
the  latter  becomes  more  civilized,  she  cannot  expect  to  live 
long  at  peace  with  any  power.  Her  common  language  is  vul- 
gar and  offensive,  and  children  with  their  milk  suck  in  the 
rudiments  of  insult — "  The  arm  of  Britain  !  The  mighty  arm 
of  Britain !  Britain  that  shakes  the  earth  to  its  centre  and 
its  poles  !  The  scourge  of  France  !  The  terror  of  the  world  ! 
That  governs  with  a  nod,  and  pours  down  vengeance  like  a 
God."  This  language  neither  makes  a  nation  great  or  little ; 
but  it  shows  a  savageness  of  manners,  and  has  a  tendency  to 
keep  national  animosity  alive.  The  entertainments  of  the 
stage  are  calculated  to  tb«  game  end,  and  almost  every  public 
exhibition  is  tinctured  with  insult.  Yet  England  is  always  in 
dread  of  France.  Terrified  at  the  apprehension  of  an  invasion. 
Suspicious  of  being  outwitted  in  a  treaty,  and  privately  cring- 
ing though  she  is  publicly  offending.  Let  her,  therefore,  reform 
her  manners  and  do  justice,  and  she  will  find  the  idea  of  a 
natural  enemy,  to  be  only  a  phantom  of  her  own  imagination. 

Little  did  I  think,  at  this  period  of  the  war,  to  see  a  procla 
mation  which  could  promise  you  no  other  useful  purpose  what- 
ever, and  tend  only  to  expose  you.  One  would  think  that  you 
were  just  awakened  from  a  four  years'  dream,  and  knew  no- 
thing of  what  had  passed  in  the  interval.  Is  this  a  time  to  be 
offering  pardons,  or  renewing  the  long  forgotten  subjects  of 
charters  and  taxation?  Is  it  worth  your  while,  after  every 
force  has  failed  you,  to  retreat  under  the  shelter  of  argument 
and  persuasion  1  Or  can  you  think  that  we,  with  nearly  half 
your  army  prisoners,  and  in  alliance  with  France,  are  to  be 
begged  or  threatened  into  submission  by  a  piece  of  paper  ?  But 
as  commissioners  at  a  hundred  pounds  sterling  a  week  each,  you 
conceive  yourselves  bound  to  do  something,  and  the  genius  of 
ill  fortune  told  you,  that  you  must  write. 

For  my  own  part,  I  have  not  put  pen  to  paper  these  several 


THE   CRISIS.  139 

months.  Convinced  of  our  superiority  by  the  issue  of  every 
campaign,  I  was  inclined  to  hope,  that  that  which  all  the  rest 
of  the  world  now  see,  would  become  visible  to  you,  and  there- 
fore felt  unwilling  to  ruffle  your  temper  by  fretting  you  with 
repetitions  and  discoveries.  There  have  been  intervals  of  hesi- 
tation in  your  conduct,  from  which  it  seemed  a  pity  to  disturb 
you,  and  a  charity  to  leave  you  to  yourselves.  You  have  often 
stopped,  as  if  you  intended  to  think,  but  your  thoughts  have 
ever  been  too  early  or  too  late. 

There  was  a  time  when  Britain  disdained  to  answer,  or  even 
hear  a  petition  from  America.  But  that  time  is  passed,  and 
she  in  her  turn  is  petitioning  our  acceptance.  We  now  stand 
on  higher  ground,  and  offer  her  peace;  and  the  time  will  come 
when  she  perhaps  in  vain,  will  ask  it  from  us.  The  latter  case 
is  as  probable  as  the  former  ever  was.  She  cannot  refuse  to 
acknowledge  our  independence  with  greater  obstinacy  than  she 
before  refused  to  repeal  her  laws;  and  if  America  alone  could 
bring  her  to  the  one,  united  with  France  she  will  reduce  her  to 
the  other.  There  is  something  in  obstinacy  which  differs  fiom 
every  other  passion;  whenever  it  fails  it  never  recovers,  but 
either  breaks  like  iron,  or  crumbles  sulkily  away  like  a  frac- 
tured arch.  Most  other  passions  have  their  periods  of  fatigue 
and  rest:  their  sufferings  and  their  cure;  but  obstinacy  has  no 
resource,  and  the  first  wound  is  mortai.  You  have  already  be- 
gun to  give  it  up,  and  you  will,  from  the  natural  construction 
of  the  vice,  find  youselves  both  obliged  and  inclined  to  do  so. 

If  you  look  back  you  see  nothing  but  loss  and  disgrace.  If 
you  look  forward  the  same  scene  continues,  and  the  close  is  an 
impenetrable  gloom.  You  may  plan  and  execute  little  mischiefs, 
but  are  they  worth  the  expense  they  cost  you,  or  will  such  par- 
tial evils  have  any  effect  on  the  general  cause  1  Your  expedition 
to  Egg- Harbor,  will  be  felt  at  a  distance  like  an  attack  on  a 
hen-roost,  and  expose  you  in  Europe  with  a  sort  of  childish 
phrenzy.  Is  it  worth  while  to  keep  an  army  to  protect  you  in 
writing  proclamations,  or  to  get  once  a  year  into  winter  quar- 
ters ?  Possessing  yourselves  of  towns  is  not  conquest,  but  con- 
venience, and  in  which  you  will  one  day  or  other  be  trepanned 
Your  retreat  from  Philadelphia  was  only  a  timely  escape,  and 
your  next  expedition  may  be  less  fortunate. 

It  would  puzzle  all  the  politicians  in  the  universe  to  conceive 
what  you  stay  for,  or  why  you  should  have  stayed  so  long.  You  are 
prosecuting  a  war  in  which  you  confess  you  have  neither  object 


140  THE  CRISIS. 

nor  hope,  and  that  conquest,  could  it  be  effected,  would  not  re- 
pay the  charges.  In  the  meanwhile  the  rest  of  your  affairs  are 
running  to  ruin,  and  a  European  war  kindling  against  you.  In 
such  a  situation,  there  is  neither  doubt  or  difficulty;  the  first 
rudiments  of  reason  will  determine  the  choice,  .or  if  peace  can 
be  procured  with  more  advantages  than  even  a  conquest  can  be 
obtained,  he  must  be  an  idiot  indeed  that  hesitates. 

But  you  are  probably  buoyed  up  by  a  set  of  wretched  mor- 
tals, who,  having  deceived  themselves,  are  cringing,  with  the 
duplicity  of  a  spaniel,  for  a  little  temporary  bread.  These  men 
will  tell  you  just  what  you  please.  It  is  their  interest  to  amuse, 
in  order  to  lengthen  out  their  protection.  They  study  to  keep 
you  amongst  them  for  that  ver} "purpose;  and  in  proportion  as 
you  disregard  their  advice,  and  grow  callous  to  their  complaints, 
they  will  stretch  into  improbability,  and  season  their  flattery 
the  higher.  Characters  like  these  are  to  b£  found  in  every  coun- 
try, and  every  country  will  despise  them. 

COMMON  SENSE. 
PHILADELPHIA,  Oct.  90th,  1778. 


NUMBER  YII. 
TO  THE  PEOPLE  OF  ENGLAND. 

THERE  are  stages  in  the  business  of  serious  life  in  which  to 
amuse  is  cruel,  but  to  deceive  is  to  destroy ;  and  it  is  of  little 
consequence,  in  the  conclusion,  whether  men  deceive  themselves 
or  submit,  by  a  kind  of  mutual  consent,  to  the  impositions  of 
each  other.  That  England  has  long  been  under  the  influence 
of  delusion  or  mistake,  needs  no  other  proof  than  the  unex- 
pected and  wretched  situation  that  she  is  now  involved  in;  and 
so  powerful  has  been  the  influence,  that  no  provision  was  ever 
made  or  thought  of  against  the  misfortune,  because  the  possi- 
bility of  its  happening  was  never  conceived. 

The  general  and  successful  resistance  of  America,  the  con- 
quest of  Burgoyne,  and  a  war  in  France,  were  treated  in 
parliament  as  the  dreams  of  a  discontented  opposition,  or  a 
distempered  imagination.  They  were  beheld  as  objects  un- 
worthy of  a  serious  thought,  and  the  bare  intimation  of  them 
afforded  the  ministry  a  triumph  of  laughter.  Short  triumph 
indeed !  For  everything  which  has  been  predicted  has  hap- 


THE  CRISIS.  141 

pened,  and  all  that  was  promised  has  failed.  A  long  series  of 
politics  so  remarkably  distinguished  by  a  succession  of  mis- 
fortunes, without  one  alleviating  turn,  must  certainly  have 
something  in  it  systematically  wrong.  It  is  sufficient  to 
awaken  the  most  credulous  into  suspicion,  and  the  most  obsti- 
nate into  thought.  Either  the  means  in  your  power  are 
insufficient,  or  the  measures  ill-planned ;  either  the  execution 
has  been  bad,  or  the  thing  attempted  impracticable;  or,  to 
speak  more  emphatically,  either  you  are  not  able  or  heaven  is 
not  willing.  For,  why  is  it  that  you  have  not  conquered  us  ? 
Who,  or  what  has  prevented  you  1  You  have  had  every  oppor- 
tunity that  you  could  desire,  and  succeeded  to  your  utmost 
wish  in  every  preparatory  means.  Your  fleets  and  armies  have 
arrived  in  America  without  an  accident.  No  uncommon  mis- 
fortune have  intervened.  No  foreign  nation  hath  interfered 
until  the  time  which  you  had  allotted  for  victory  was  past. 
The  opposition,  either  in  or  out  of  parliament,  neither  discon- 
certed your  measures,  retarded  or  diminished  your  force. 
They  only  foretold  your  fate.  Every  ministerial  scheme  was 
carried  with  as  high  a  hand  as  if  the  whole  nation  had  been 
unanimous.  Everything  wanted  was  asked  for,  and  every- 
thing asked  for  was  granted. 

A  greater  force  was  not  within  the  compass  of  your  abilities 
to  send,  and  the  time  you  sent  it  was  of  all  others  the  most 
favorable.  You  were  then  at  rest  with  the  whole  world  beside. 
You  had  the  range  of  every  court  in  Europe  uncontradicted  by 
us.  You  amused  us  with  a  tale  of  the  commissioners  of  peace, 
and  under  that  disguise  collected  a  numerous  army  and  came 
almost  unexpectedly  upon  us.  The  force  was  much  greater 
than  we  looked  for:  and  that  which  we  had  to  oppose  it  with, 
was  unequal  in  numbers,  badly  armed,  and  poorly  disciplined; 
beside  which,  it  was  embodied  only  for  a  short  time,  and  ex- 
pired within  a  few  months  after  your  arrival  We  had  govern- 
ments to  form;  measures  to  concert;  an  army  to  train,  and 
every  necessary  article  to  import  or  to  create.  Our  non-impor- 
tation scheme  had  exhausted  our  stores,  and  your  command  by 
sea  intercepted  our  supplies.  We  were  a  people  unknown,  and 
unconnected  with  the  political  world,  and  strangers  to  the  dis- 
position of  foreign  powers.  Could  you  possibly  wish  for  a 
more  favorable  conjunction  of  circumstances?  Yet  all  these 
have  happened  and  passed  away,  and,  as  it  were,  left  you  with 
a  laugh.  They  are  likewise  events  of  such  an  original  nativity 


142  THE  CRISIS. 

as  can  never  happen  again,  unless  a  new  world  should  arise 
from  the  ocean. 

If  anything  can  be  a  lesson  to  presumption,  surely  the 
circumstances  of  this  war  will  have  their  effect.  Had  Britain 
been  defeated  by  any  European  power,  her  pride  would  have 
drawn  consolation  from  the  importance  of  her  conquerors;  but 
in  the  present  case,  she  is  excelled  by  those  that  she  affected 
to  despise,  and  her  own  opinions  retorting  upon  herself,  become 
an  aggravation  of  her  disgrace.  Misfortune  and  experience  are 
lost  upon  mankind,  when  they  produce  neither  reflection  nor 
reformation.  Evils,  like  poisons,  have  their  uses,  and  there 
are  diseases  which  no  other  remedy  can  reach.  It  has  been 
the  crime  and  folly  of  England  to  suppose  herself  invincible, 
and  that,  without  acknowledging  or  perceiving  that  a  full  third 
of  her  strength  was  drawn  from  the  country  she  is  now  at 
war  with.  The  arm  of  Britain  has  been  spoken  of  as  the  arm 
of  the  Almighty,  and  she  has  lived  of  late  as  if  she  thought 
the  whole  world  created  for  her  diversion.  Her  politics, 
instead  of  civilizing,  has  tended  to  brutalize  mankind,  and 
under  the  vain,  unmeaning  title  of  "  Defender  of  the  Faith," 
she  has  made  war  like  an  Indian  against  the  religion  of 
humanity.  Her  cruelties  in  the  East  Indies  wil.  never  be  for- 
gotten; and  it  is  somewhat  remarkable  that  the  produce  of 
that  ruined  country,  transported  to  America,  should  there 
kindle  up  a  war  to  punish  the  destroyer.  The  chain  is  con- 
tinued, though  with  a  mysterious  kind  of  uniformity  both  in 
the  crime  and  the  punishment.  The  latter  runs  parallel  with 
the  former,  and  time  and  fate  will  give  it  a  perfect  illustration. 

When  information  is  withheld,  ignorance  becomes  a  reason- 
able excuse;  and  one  would  charitably  hope  that  the  people  of 
England  do  not  encourage  cruelty  from  choice  but  from  mis- 
take. Their  recluse  situation,  surrounded  by  the  sea,  preserves 
them  from  the  calamities  of  war,  and  keeps  them  in  the  dark 
as  to  the  conduct  of  their  own  armies.  They  see  not,  therefore 
they  feel  not.  They  teli  the  tale  that  is  told  them  and  believe 
it,  and  accustomed  to  no  other  news  than  their  own,  they  re- 
ceive it,  stripped  of  its  horrors  and  prepared  for  the  palate  of 
the  nation,  through  the  channel  of  the  "London  Gazette.'* 
They  are  made  to  believe  that  their  generals  and  armies  differ 
from  those  of  other  nations,  and  have  nothing  of  rudeness  or 
barbarity  in  them.  They  suppose  them  what  they  wish  them  to 
be.  They  feel  a  disgrace  in  thinking  otherwise,  and  naturally 


THE  CRISIS.  143 

encourage  the  belief  from  a  partiality  to  themselves.  There 
was  a  time  when  I  felt  the  same  prejudices,  and  reasoned  from 
the  same  errors;  but  experience,  sad  and  painful  experience, 
has  taught  me  better.  What  the  conduct  of  former  armies 
was,  I  know  not,  but  what  the  conduct  of  the  present  is,  I  well 
know.  It  is  lo\v,  cruel,  indolent  and  profligate;  and  had  the 
people  of  America  no  other  cause  for  separation  than  what  the 
army  has  occasioned,  that  alone  is  cause  sufficient. 

The  field  of  politics  in  England  is  far  more  extensive  than 
that  of  news.  Men  have  a  right  to  reason  for  themselves,  and 
though  they  cannot  contradict  the  intelligence  in  the  "  London 
Gazette,"  they  may  frame  upon  it  what  sentiments  they  please. 

But  the  misfortune  is,  that  a  general  ignorance  has  prevailed 
over  the  whole  nation  respecting  America.  The  ministry  and 
minority  have  both  been  wrong.  The  former  was  always  so, 
the  latter  only  lately  so.  Politics,  to  be  executively  right,  must 
have  a  unity  of  means  and  time,  and  a  defect  in  either  over- 
throws the  whole.  The  ministry  rejected  the  plans  of  the  min- 
ority while  they  were  practicable,  and  joined  in  them  when  they 
became  impracticable.  From  wrong  measures  they  got  into 
wrong  time,  and  have  now  completed  the  circle  of  absurdity  by 
closing  it  upon  themselves. 

I  happened  to  come  to  America  a  few  months  before  the 
breaking  out  of  hostilities.  I  found  the  disposition  of  the 
people  such,  that  they  might  have  been  led  by  a  thread  and 
governed  by  a  reed.  Their  suspicion  was  quick  and  penetrat- 
ing, but  their  attachment  to  Britain  was  obstinate,  and  it  was 
at  that  time  a  kind  of  treason  to  speak  against  it.  They  dis- 
liked the  ministry,  but  they  esteemed  the  nation.  Their  idea 
of  grievance  operated  without  resentment,  and  their  single 
object  was  reconciliation.  Bad  as  I  believe  the  ministry  to  be, 
I  never  conceived  them  capable  of  a  measure  so  rash  and  wicked 
as  the  commencing  of  hostilities;  much  less  did  I  imagine  the 
nation  would  encourage  it.  I  viewed  the  dispute  as  a  kind  of 
lawsuit,  in  which  I  supposed  the  parties  would  find  a  way 
either  to  decide  or  settle  it.  I  had  no  thoughts  of  independence 
or  of  arms.  The  world  could  not  then  have  persuaded  me  that 
1  should  be  either  a  soldier  or  an  author.  If  I  had  any  talents 
for  either,  they  were  buried  in  me,  and  might  ever  have  con- 
tinued so,  had  not  the  necessity  of  the  times  dragged  and  driven 
them  into  action.  I  had  formed  my  plan  of  life,  and  conceiv- 
ing myself  happy,  wished  everybody  else  so.  But  when  the 


144  THE  CRISIS. 

country,  into  which  I  had  just  set  my  foot,  was  set  on  fire  about 
my  ears,  it  was  time  to  stir.  It  was  time  for  every  man  to  stir. 
Those  who  had  been  long  settled  had  something  to  defend;  those 
who  had  just  come  had  something  to  pursue;  and  the  call  and 
the  concern  was  equal  and  universal.  For  in  a  country  where 
all  men  were  once  adventurers,  the  difference  of  a  few  years  in 
their  arrival  could  make  none  in  their  rights. 

The  breaking  out  of  hostilities  opened  a  new  suspicion  in  the 
politics  of  America,  which,  though  at  that  time  very  rare,  has 
since  been  proved  to  be  very  right.  What  I  allude  to  is,  "  a 
secret  and  fixed  determination  in  the  British  cabinet  to  annex 
America  to  the  crown  of  England  as  a  conquered  country." 
If  this  be  taken  as  the  object,  then  the  whole  line  of  conduct 
pursued  by  the  ministry,  though  rash  in  its  origin  and  ruinous 
in  its  consequences,  is  nevertheless  uniform  and  consistent  in 
its  parts.  It  applies  to  every  case,  and  resolves  every  difficulty. 
But  if  taxation,  or  anything  else,  be  taken  in  its  room,  there  is 
no  proportion  between  the  object  and  the  charge.  Nothing  but 
the  whole  soil  and  property  of  the  country  can  be  placed  as  a 
possible  equivalent  against  the  millions  which  the  ministry  ex- 
pended. No  taxes  raised  in  America  could  possibly  repay  it. 
A  revenue  of  two  millions  sterling  a  year  would  not  discharge 
the  sum  and  interest  accumulated  thereon,  in  twenty  years. 

Reconciliation  never  appears  to  have  been  the  wish  or  the 
object  of  the  administration,  they  looked  on  conquest  as  certain 
and  infallible,  and,  under  that  persuasion,  sought  to  drive  the 
Americans  into  what  they  might  style  a  general  rebellion,  and 
then  crushing  them  with  arms  in  their  hands,  reap  the  rich  har- 
vest of  a  general  confiscation,  and  silence  them  for  ever.  The 
dependants  at  court  were  too  numerous  to  be  provided  for  in 
England.  The  market  for  plunder  in  the  East-Indies  was  over ; 
and  the  profligacy  of  government  required  that  a  new  mine 
should  be  opened,  and  that  mine  could  be  no  other  than 
America,  conquered  and  forfeited.  They  had  no  where  else  to 
go.  Every  other  channel  was  drained;  and  extravagance,  with 
the  thirst  of  a  drunkard,  was  gaping  for  supplies. 

If  the  ministry  deny  this  to  have  been  their  plan,  it  becomes 
them  to  explain  what  was  their  plan.  For  either  they  have 
abused  us  in  coveting  property  they  never  labored  for,  or  they 
have  abused  you  in  expending  an  amazing  sum  upon  an  incom- 
petent object.  Taxation,  as  I  mentioned  before,  could  never  be 
worth  the  charge  of  obtaining  it  by  arms;  and  any  kind  of  for- 


THE   CRISIS.  145 

mal  obedience  which  America  could  have  made,  would  have 
weighed  with  the  lightness  of  a  laugh  against  such  a  load  of 
expense.  It  is  therefore  most  probable  that  the  ministry  will 
at  last  justify  their  policy  by  their  dishonesty,  and  openly  de- 
clare that  their  original  design  was  conquest;  and  in  this  case, 
it  well  becomes  the  people  of  England  to  consider  how  far  the 
nation  would  have  been  benefited  by  the  success. 

In  a  general  view,  there  are  few  conquests  which  repay  the 
charge  of  making  them,  and  mankind  are  pretty  well  convinced 
that  it  can  never  be  worth  their  while  to  go  to  war  for  profit's 
sake.  If  they  are  made  war  upon,  their  country  invaded,  or 
their  existence  at  stake,  it  is  their  duty  to  defend  and  preserve 
themselves,  but  in  every  other  light,  and  from  every  other  cause, 
is  war  inglorious  and  detestable.  But  to  return  to  the  case  in 
question — 

When  conquests  are  made  of  foreign  countries,  it  is  supposed 
that  the  commerce  and  dominion  of  the  country  which  made 
them  are  extended.  But  this  could  neither  be  the  object  nor 
the  consequence  of  the  present  war.  You  enjoyed  the  whole 
commerce  before.  It  could  receive  no  possible  addition  by  a 
conquest,  but  on  the  contrary,  must  diminish  as  the  inhabitants 
were  reduced  in  numbers  and  wealth.  You  had  the  same  do- 
minion over  the  country  which  you  used  to  have,  and  had  no 
complaint  to  make  against  her  for  breach  of  any  part  of  the 
contract  between  you  or  her,  or  contending  against  any  estab- 
lished custom,  commercial,  political  or  territorial.  The  country 
and  commerce  were  both  your  own  when  you  began  to  conquer, 
in  the  same  manner  and  form  as  they  had  been  your  own  an 
hundred  years  before.  Nations  have  sometimes  been  induced 
to  make  conquests  for  the  sake  of  reducing  the  power  of  their 
enemies,  or  bringing  it  to  a  balance  with  their  own.  But  this 
could  be  no  part  of  your  plan.  No  foreign  authority  was 
claimed  here,  neither  was  any  such  authority  suspected  by  you, 
or  acknowledged  or  imagined  by  us.  What  then,  in  the  name 
of  heaven,  could  you  go  to  war  for  1  Or  what  chance  could  you 
possibly  have  in  the  event,  but  either  to  hold  the  same  country 
which  you  held  before,  and  that  in  a  much  worse  condition,  or 
to  lose,  with  an  amazing  expense,  what  you  might  have  retained 
without  a  farthing  of  charges. 

War  never  can  be  the  interest  of  a  trading  nation,  any  more 
than  quarrelling  can  be  profitable  to  a  man  in  business.     But 
to  make  war  with  those  who  trade  with  us,  is  like  setting  a 
10 


146  THE  CRISIS. 

bull-dog  upon  a  customer  at  the  shop-door.  The  least  degree  of 
common  sense  shows  the  madness  of  the  latter,  and  it  will  apply 
with  the  same  force  of  conviction  to  the  former.  Piratical  na- 
tions, having  neither  commerce  or  commodities  of  their  own  to 
lose,  may  make  war  upon  all  the  world,  and  lucratively  find 
their  account  in  it;  but  it  is  quite  otherwise  with  Britain:  for, 
besides  the  stoppage  of  trade  in  time  of  war,  she  exposes  more 
of  her  own  property  to  be  lost,  than  she  has  the  chance  of  tak- 
ing from-  others.  Some  ministerial  gentlemen  in  parliament 
have  mentioned  the  greatness  of  her  trade  as  an  apology  fof 
the  greatness  of  her  loss.  This  is  miserable  politics  indeed ! 
Because  it  ought  to  have  been  given  as  a  reason  for  her  not  en- 
gaging in  a  war  at  first.  The  coast  of  America  commands  the 
West-India  trade  almost  as  effectually  as  the  coast  of  Africa 
does  that  of  the  Straits;  and  England  can  no  more  carry  on  the 
former  without  the  consent  of  America,  than  she  can  the  latter 
without  a  Mediterranean  pass. 

In  whatever  light  the  war  with  America  is  considered  upon 
commercial  principles,  it  is  evidently  the  interest  of  the  people 
of  England  not  to  support  it;  and  why  it  has  been  supported  so 
long,  against  the  clearest  demonstrations  of  truth  and  national 
advantage,  is  to  me,  and  must  be  to  all  the  reasonable  world,  a 
matter  of  astonishment.  Perhaps  it  may  be  said  that  I  live  in 
America,  and  write  this  from  interest.  To  this  I  reply,  that  my 
principle  is  universal.  My  attachment  is  to  all  the  world,  &..  J 
not  to  any  particular  part,  and  if  what  I  advance  is  right,  no 
matter  where  or  who  it  comes  from.  We  have  given  the  pro- 
clamation of  your  commissioners  a  currency  in  our  newspapers, 
and  I  have  no  doubt  you  will  give  this  a  place  in  yours.  To 
oblige  and  be  obliged  is  fair. 

Before  I  dismiss  this  part  of  my  address,  I  shall  mention 
one  more  circumstance  in  which  I  think  the  people  of  Eng- 
land have  been  equally  mistaken:  and  then  proceed  to  other 
matters. 

There  is  such  an  idea  existing  in  the  world,  as  that  of  national 
honor,  and  this  falsely  understood,  is  oftentimes  the  cause  of 
war.  In  a  Christian  and  philosophical  sense,  mankind  seem 
to  have  stood  still  at  individual  civilization,  and  to  retain  as 
nations  all  the  original  rudeness  of  nature.  Peace  by  treaty  is 
only  a  cessation  of  violence  for  a  reformation  of  sentiment  It 
is  a  substitute  for  a  principle  that  is  wanting  and  ever  will  be 
wanting  till  the  idea  of  national  honor  be  rightly  understood 


THE  CRISIS.  1-17 

As  individuals  we  profess  ourselves  Christians,  but  as  nations 
we  are  heathens,  Romans,  and  what  not.  I  remember  the  late 
Admiral  Saunders  declaring  in  the  house  of  commons,  and  that 
in  the  time  of  peace,  "  That  the  city  of  Madrid  laid  in  ashes 
was  not  a  sufficient  atonement  for  the  Spaniards  taking  off  the 
rudder  of  an  English  sloop  of  war."  I  do  not  ask  whether  this 
is  Christianity  or  morality :  I  ask  whether  it  is  decency  1  whether 
it  is  proper  language  for  a  nation  to  use  ?  In  private  life  we 
call  it  by  the  plain  name  of  bullying,  and  the  elevation  of  rank 
cannot  alter  its  character.  It  is,  I  think,  exceedingly  easy  to 
define  what  ought  to  be  understood  by  national  honor;  for  that 
which  is  the  best  character  for  an  individual  is  the  best  charac- 
ter for  a  nation;  and  wherever  the  latter  exceeds  or  falls  be- 
neath the  former,  there  is  a  departure  from  the  line  of  true 
greatness. 

I  have  thrown  out  this  observation  with  a  design  of  applying 
it  to  Great  Britain.  Her  ideas  of  national  honor,  seem  devoid 
of  that  benevolence  of  heart,  that  universal  expansion  of  phil- 
anthropy, and  that  triumph  over  the  rage  of  vulgar  prejudice, 
without  which  man  is  inferior  to  himself,  and  a  companion  of 
common  animals.  To  know  whom  she  shall  regard  or  dislike, 
she  asks  what  country  they  are  of,  what  religion  they  profess, 
and  what  property  they  enjoy.  Her  idea  of  national  honor 
seems  to  consist  in  national  insult,  and  that  to  be  a  great 
people,  is  to  be  neither  a  Christian,  a  philosopher,  or  a  gentle- 
man, but  to  threaten  with  the  rudeness  of  a  bear,  and  to  devour 
with  the  ferocity  of  a  lion.  This  perhaps  may  sound  harsh 
and  uncourtly,  but  it  is  too  true,  and  the  more  is  the  pity. 

I  mention  this  only  as  her  general  character.  But  towards 
America  she  has  observed  no  character  at  all;  and  destroyed 
by  her  conduct  what  she  assumed  in  her  title.  She  set  out 
with  the  title  of  parent,  or  mother  country.  The  association 
of  ideas  which  naturally  accompany  this  expression,  are  tilled 
with  every  thing  that  is  fond,  tender  and  forbearing.  They 
have  an  energy  peculiar  to  themselves,  and,  overlooking  the 
accidental  attachment  of  common  affections,  apply  with  intinite 
softness  to  the  first  feelings  of  the  heart.  It  is  a  political  term 
which  every  mother  can  feel  the  force  of,  and  every  child  can 
judge  of.  It  needs  no  painting  of  mine  to  set  it  off,  for  nature 
onlv  can  do  it  justice. 

But  has  any  part  of  your  conduct  to  America  corresponded 
wita  the  title  you  set  up?  If  in  your  general  national  char- 


148  THE  CRISIS. 

acter  you  are  unpolished  and  severe,  in  this  you  are  inconsistent 
and  unnatural,  and  you  must  have  exceeding  false  notions  of 
national  honor,  to  suppose  that  the  world  can  admire  a  want  of 
humanity,  or  that  national  honor  depends  on  the  violence  of 
resentment,  the  inflexibility  of  temper,  or  the  vengeance  of 
execution. 

I  would  willingly  convince  you,  and  that  with  as  much 
temper  as  the  times  will  suffer  me  to  do,  that  as  you  opposed 
your  own  interest  by  quarrelling  with  us,  so  likewise  your 
national  honor,  rightly  conceived  and  understood,  was  no  ways 
called  upon  to  enter  into  a  war  with  America;  had  you  studied 
true  greatness  of  heart,  the  first  and  fairest  ornament  of  man- 
kind, you  would  have  acted  directly  contrary  to  all  that  you 
have  done,  and  the  world  would  have  ascribed  it  to  a  generous 
cause;  besides  which,  you  had  (though  with  the  assistance  of 
this  country)  secured  a  powerful  name  by  the  last  war.  You 
were  known  and  dreaded  abroad ;  and  it  would  have  been  wise 
in  you  to  have  suffered  the  world  to  have  slept  undisturbed 
under  that  idea.  It  was  to  you  a  force  existing  without 
expense.  It  produced  to  you  all  the  advantages  of  real 
power;  and  you  were  stronger  through  the  universality  of  that- 
charm,  than  any  future  fleets  and  armies  may  probably  make 
you.  Your  greatness  was  so  secured  and  interwoven  with  your 
silence,  that  you  ought  never  to  have  awakened  mankind,  and 
had  nothing  to  do  but  to  be  quiet.  Had  you  been  true  politi- 
cians you  would  have  seen  all  this,  and  continued  to  draw  from 
the  magic  of  a  name,  the  force  and  authority  of  a  nation. 

Unwise  as  you  were  in  breaking  the  charm,  you  were  still 
more  unwise  in  the  manner  of  doing  it.  Samson  only  told  the 
secret,  but  you  have  performed  the  operation;  you  have  shaven 
your  own  head,  and  wantonly  thrown  away  the  locks. 
America  was  the  hair  from  which  the  charm  was  drawn  that 
infatuated  the  world.  You  ought  to  have  quarrelled  with  no 
power;  but  with  her  upon  no  account.  You  had  nothing  to 
fear  from  any  condescension  you  might  make.  You  might 
have  humored  her,  even  if  there  had  been  no  justice  in  her 
claims,  without  any  risk  to  your  reputation;  for  Europe,  fasci- 
nated by  your  fame,  would  have  ascribed  it  to  /**»  benevolence, 
and  America,  intoxicated  by  the  grant,  worn  'S  *r*ve  slumbered 
in  her  fetters. 

But  this  method  of  studying  the  progress  of  the  passions,  in 
order  to  ascertain  the  probable  conduct  of  mankind,  is  a  phil- 


THE  CRISIS.  149 

osophy  in  politics  which  those  who  preside  at  St.  James's  have 
no  conception  of.  They  know  no  other  influence  than  corrup- 
tion, and  reckon  all  their  probabilities  from  precedent.  A  new 
case  is  to  them  a  new  world,  and  while  they  are  seeking  for  a 
parallel  they  get  lost.  The  talents  of  Lord  Mansfield  can  be 
estimated  at  best  no  higher  than  those  of  a  sophist.  He 
understands  the  subleties  but  not  the  elegance  of  nature;  and 
by  continually  viewing  mankind  through  the  cold  medium  of 
the  law,  never  thinks  of  penetrating  into  the  warmer  region  of 
the  mind.  As  for  Lord  North,  it  is  his  happiness  to  have  in 
him  more  philosophy  than  sentiment,  for  he  bears  flogging  like 
a  top,  and  sleeps  the  better  for  it.  His  punishment  becomes 
his  support,  for  while  he  suffers  the  lash  for  his  sins,  he  keeps 
himself  up  by  twirling  about.  In  politics,  he  is  a  good  arith- 
metican,  and  in  everything  else  nothing  at  all. 

There  is  one  circumstance  which  comes  so  much  within  Lord 
North's  province  as  a  financier,  that  I  am  surprised  it  should 
escape  him,  which  is,  the  different  abilities  of  the  two  countries 
in  supporting  the  expense:  for,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  Eng- 
land is  not  a  match  for  America  in  this  particular.  By  a 
curious  kind  of  revolution  in  accounts,  the  people  of  England 
seem  to  mistake  their  poverty  for  their  riches ;  that  is,  they  reckon 
their  national  debt  as  a  part  of  their  national  wealth.  They 
make  the  same  kind  of  error  which  a  man  would  do,  who  after 
mortgaging  his  estate,  should  add  the  money  borrowed,  to  the 
full  value  of  the  estate,  in  order  to  count  up  his  worth,  and  in 
this  case  he  would  conceive  that  he  got  rich  by  running  into 
debt.  Just  thus  it  is  with  Englano  The  government  owed 
at  the  beginning  of  this  war  one  Jaundied  and  thirty-five 
millions  sterling,  and  though  the  individuals  to  whom  it  was 
due,  had  a  right  to  reckon  their  shares  as  so  much  private  pro- 
perty, yet  to  the  nation  collectively  it  was  so  nuch  property. 
There  is  as  effectual  limits  to  public  debts  as  to  private  ones, 
for  when  once  the  money  borrowed  is  so  great  as  to  require  the 
whole  yearly  revenue  to  discharge  the  interest  thereon,  there  is 
an  end  to  further  borrowing;  in  the  same  manner  as  when  the 
interest  of  a  man's  debts  amounts  to  the  yearly  income  of  his 
estate,  there  is  an  end  to  his  credit.  This  is  nearly  the  case 
with  England,  the  interest  of  her  present  debt  being  at  least 
equal  to  one-half  of  her  yearly  revenue,  so  that  out  of  ten 
millions  annually  collected  by  taxes,  she  has  but  live  that  she 
can  call  her  owo 


THE  CRISIS. 

The  very  reverse  of  this  was  the  case  with  America;  she 
began  the  war  without  any  debt  upon  her,  and  in  order  to  carry 
it  on,  she  neither  raised  money  by  taxes,  nor  borrowed  it  upon 
interest,  but  created  it;  and  her  situation  at  this  time  contin- 
ues so  much  the  reverse  of  yours  that  taxing  would  make  her 
rich,  whereas  it  would  make  you  poor.  When  we  shall  have 
sunk  the  sum  which  we  have  created,  we  shall  then  be  out  of 
debt,  be  just  as  rich  as  when  we  began,  and  all  the  while  we 
are  doing  it  shall  feel  no  difference,  because  the  value  will  rise 
as  the  quantity  decreases. 

There  was  not  a  country  in  the  world  so  capable  ot  uer,ring 
the  expense  of  a  war  as  America;  not  only  because  she  was  not 
in  debt  when  she  began,  but  because  the  country  is  young  and 
capable  of  infinite  improvement,  and  has  an  almost  boundless 
tract  of  new  lands  in  store ;  whereas  England  has  got  to  her 
extent  of  age  and  growth,  and  has  no  unoccupied  land  or  pro- 
perty in  reserve.  The  one  is  like  a  young  heir  coming  to  a 
large  improvable  estate;  the  other  like  an  old  man  whose 
chances  are  over,  and  his  estate  mortgaged  for  half  its  worth. 

In  the  second  number  of  the  Crisis,  which  I  find  has  been 
republished  in  England,  I  endeavored  to  set  forth  the  imprac- 
ticability .of  conquering  America.  I  stated  every  case,  that  I 
conceived  could  possibly  happen,  and  ventured  to  predict  its 
consequences.  As  my  conclusions  were  drawn  not  artfully,  but 
naturally,  they  have  all  proved  to  be  true.  I  was  upon  the 
spot;  knew  the  politics  of  America,  her  strength  and  resources, 
and  by  a  train  of  services,  the  best  in  my  power  to  render,  was 
honored  with  the  friendship  of  the  congress,  the  army  and  the 
people.  I  considered  the  cause  a  just  one.  I  know  and  feel  it 
a  just  one,  and  under  that  confidence  never  made  my  own  profit 
or  loss  an  object.  My  endeavor  was  to  have  the  matter  well 
understood  on  both  sides,  and  I  conceived  myself  tendering  a 
general  service,  by  setting  forth  to-  the  one  the  impossibility  of 
being  conquered,  and  to  the  other  the  impossibility  of  conquer- 
ing. Most  of  the  arguments  made  use  of  by  the  ministry  for 
supporting  the  war,  are  the  very  arguments  that  ought  to  have 
been  used  against  supporting  it;  and  the  plans,  by  which  they 
thought  to  conquer,  are  the  very  plans  in  which  they  were  sure 
to  be  defeated.  They  have  taken  everything  up  at  the  wrong 
^nd.  Their  ignorance  is  astonishing,  and  were  you  in  my 
aituation  you  would  see  it.  They  mav,  perhaps,  have  your 
*o-hilence,  but  I  am  persuaded  that  thay  would  make  very 


THE   CRISIS.  151 

indifferent  members  of  congress.  I  know  what  England  is, 
and  what  America  is,  and  from  the  compound  of  knowledge, 
am  better  enabled  to  judge  of  the  issue,  than  what  the  king  or 
any  of  his  ministers  can  be. 

In  this  number  I  have  endeavored  to  show  the  ill  policy  aud 
disadvantages  of  the  war.  I  believe  many  of  my  remarks  are 
new.  Those  which  are  not  so,  I  have  studied  to  improve  and 
place  in  a  manner  that  may  be  clear  and  striking.  Your  failure 
is,  I  am  persuaded,  as  certain  as  fate.  America  is  above  your 
reach.  She  is  at  least  your  equal  in  the  world,  and  her  inde- 
pendence neither  rests  upon  your  consent,  nor  can  it  be  pre- 
vented by  your  arms.  In  short,  you  spend  your  substance  in 
vain,  and  impoverish  yourselves  without  a  hope. 

But  suppose  you  had  conquered  America,  what  advantages, 
collectively  or  individually,  as  merchants,  manufacturers,  or 
conquerors,  could  you  have  looked  for.  This  is  an  object  you 
seemed  never  to  have  attended  to.  Listening  for  the  sound  of 
victory,  and  led  away  by  the  frenzy  of  arms,  you  neglected  to 
reckon  either  the  cost  of  the  consequences.  You  must  all  pay 
towards  the  expense;  the  poorest  among  you  must  bear  his 
share,  and  it  is  both  your  right  and  your  duty  to  weigh  seri- 
ously the  matter.  Had  America  been  conquered,  she  might 
have  been  parcelled  out  in  grants  to  the  favorites  at  court,  but 
no  share  of  it  would  have  fallen  to  you.  Your  taxes  would  not 
have  been  lessened,  because  she  would  have  been  in  no  condi- 
tion to  have  paid  any  towards  your  relief.  We  are  rich  by  a 
contrivance  of  our  own,  which  would  have  ceased  as  soon  as 
you  became  masters.  Our  paper  money  will  be  of  no  use  in 
England,  and  silver  and  gold  we  have  none.  In  the  last  war 
you  made  many  conquests,  but  were  any  of  your  taxes  lessened 
thereby  ?  On  the  contrary,  were  you  not  taxed  to  pay  for  the 
charge  of  making  them,  and  have  not  the  same  been  the  case  in 
every  war1? 

To  the  parliament  I  wish  to  address  myself  in  a  more  particu- 
lar manner.  They  appear  to  have  supposed  themselves  partners 
iu  the  chase,  and  to  have  hunted  with  the  lion  from  an  expecta- 
tion of  a  right  in  the  booty ;  but  in  this  it  is  most  probable  they 
would,  as  legislators,  have  been  disappointed.  The  case  is  quite 
a  new  one,  and  many  unforeseen  difficulties  would  have  arisen 
thereon.  »The  parliament  claimed  a  legislative  right  over 
America,  and  the  war  originated  from  that  pretence.  But  the 
army  is  supposed  to  belong  to  the  crown,  and  if  America  had 


152  THE  CRISIS. 

been  conquered  through  their  means,  the  claim  of  the  legisla- 
ture would  have  been  suffocated  in  the  conquest.  Ceded,  or 
conquered,  countries  are  supposed  to  be  out  of  the  authority  of 
parliament.  Taxation  is  exercised  over  them  by  prerogative 
and  not  by  law.  It  was  attempted  to  be  done  in  the  Granadas 
a  few  years  ago,  and  the  only  reason  why  it  was  not  done  was 
because  the  crown  had  made  a  prior  relihquishment  of  its 
claim.  Therefore,  parliament  have  been  all  this  while  sup- 
porting measures  for  the  establishment  of  their  authority,  in 
the  same  issue  of  which,  they  would  have  been  triumphed 
over  by  the  prerogative.  This  might  have  opened  a  new  and 
interesting  opposition  between  the  parliament  and  the  crown. 
The  crown  would  have  said  that  it  conquered  for  itself,  and 
that  to  conquer  for  parliament  was  an  unknown  case.  The 
parliament  might  have  replied,  that  America  not  being  a  for- 
eign country,  but  a  country  in  rebellion,  could  not  be  said  to 
be  conquered,  but  reduced  ;  and  thus  continued  their  claim  by 
disowning  the  term.  The  crown  might  have  rejoined,  that 
however  America  might  be  considered  at  first,  she  became  for- 
eign at  last  by  a  declaration  of  independence,  and  a  treaty  with 
France ;  and  that  her  case  being,  by  that  treaty,  put  within 
the  law  of  nations,  was  out  of  the  law  of  parliament,  who 
might  have  maintained,  that  as  their  claim  over  America  had 
never  been  surrendered,  so  neither  could  it  be  taken  away. 
The  crown  might  have  insisted,  that  though  the  claim  of  parlia- 
ment could  not  be  taken  away,  yet,  being  an  inferior,  it  might 
be  superseded ;  and  that,  whether  the  claim  was  withdrawn 
from  the  object,  or  the  object  taken  from  the  claim,  the  same 
separation  ensued;  and  that  America  being  subdued  after  a 
treaty  with  France,  was  to  all  intents  and  purposes  a  regal  con- 
quest, and  of  course  the  sole  property  of  the  King.  The  parlia- 
ment, as  the  legal  delegates  of  the  people,  might  have  contended 
against  the  term  "  inferior,"  and  rested  the  case  upon  the  anti- 
quity of  power,  and  this  would  have  brought  on  a  set  of  very 
interesting  and  rational  questions. 

1st,  What  is  the  original  fountain  of  power  and  honor  in  any 
country  ? 

2nd,  Whether  the  prerogative  does  not  belong  to  the  people  ? 

3rd,  Whether  there  is  any  such  thing  as  the  English  con- 
stitution ? 

4th,  Of  what  use  is  the  crown  to  the  people  1 


THE   CRISIS.  153 

5th,  Whether  he  who  invented  a  crown  was  not  an  enemy 
to  mankind  ? 

6th,  Whether  it  is  not  a  shame  for  a  man  to  spend  a  million 
a  year  and  do  no  good  for  it,  and  whether  the  money  might  not 
be  better  applied  1 

7th,  Whether  such  a  man  is  not  better  dead  than  alive  ? 

8th,  Whether  a  congress,  constituted  like  that  of  America, 
is  not  the  most  happy  and  consistent  form  of  government  in 
the  world  1 — With  a  number  of  others  of  the  same  import. 

In  short,  the  contention  about  the  dividend  might  have  dis- 
tracted the  nation ;  for  nothing  is  more  common  than  to  agree 
in  the  conquest  and  quarrel  for  the  prize  ;  therefore  it  is,  per- 
haps, a  happy  circumstance,  that  our  successes  have  prevented 
the  dispute. 

If  the  parliament  had  been  thrown  out  in  their  claim,  which 
it  is  most  probable  they  would,  the  nation  likewise  would  have 
been  thrown  out  in  their  expectation  ;  for  as  the  taxes  would 
have  been  laid  on  by  the  crown  without  the  parliament,  the 
revenue  arising  therefrom,  if  any  could  have  arisen,  would  not 
have  gone  into  the  exchequer,  but  into  the  privy  purse,  and  so 
far  from  lessening  the  taxes,  would  not  even  have  been  added 
to  them,  but  served  only  as  pocket  money  to  the  crown.  The 
more  I  reflect  on  this  matter,  the  more  I  am  astonished  at  the 
blindness  and  ill  policy  of  my  countrymen,  whose  wisdom  seems 
to  operate  without  discernment,  and  their  strength  without  an 
object. 

To  the  great  bulwark  of  the  nation,  I  mean  the  mercantile 
and  manufacturing  part  thereof,  I  likewise  present  my  address. 
It  is  your  interest  to  see  America  an  independent,  and  not  a 
conquered  country.  If  conquered,  she  is  ruined  ;  and  if  ruined, 
poor  ;  consequently  the  trade  will  be  a  trifle,  and  her  credit 
doubtful.  If  independent,  she  flourishes,  and  from  her  flour- 
ishing must  your  profits  arise.  It  matters  nothing  to  you  who 
governs  America,  if  your  manufactures  find  a  consumption 
there.  Some  articles  will  consequently  be  obtained  from  other 
places,  and  it  is  right  that  they  should ;  but  the  demand  for 
others  will  increase,  by  the  great  influx  of  inhabitants  which  a 
state  of  independence  and  peace  will  occasion,  and  in  the  final 
event  you  may  be  enriched.  The  commerce  of  America  is  per- 
fectly free,  aud  ever  will  be  so.  She  will  consign  away  no  part 
of  it  to  any  nation.  She  has  not  to  her  friends,  and  certainly 
will  not  to  her  enemies,  though  it  is  probable  that  your  narrow- 


154  THE  CRISIS. 

minded  politicians,  thinking  to  please  you  thereby,  may  some 
time  or  other  unnecessarily  make  such  a  proposal.  Trade 
flourishes  best  when  it  is  free,  and  it  is  weak  policy  to  attempt 
to  fetter  it.  Her  treaty  with  France  is  on  the  most  liberal  and 
generous  principles,  and  the  French,  in  their  conduct  towards 
her,  have  proved  themselves  to  be  philosophers,  politicians  and 
gentlemen. 

To  the  ministry  I  likewise  address  myself.  You,  gentlemen, 
have  studied  the  ruin  of  your  country,  from  which  it  is  not 
within  your  abilities  to  rescue  her.  Your  attempts  to  recover 
her  are  as  ridiculous  as  your  plans  which  involved  her  are 
detestable.  The  commissioners,  being  about  to  depart,  will 
probably  bring  you  this,  and  with  it  my  sixth  number  addressed 
to  them ;  and  in  so  doing  they  carry  back  more  "  Common 
Sense "  than  they  brought,  and  you  likewise  will  have  more 
than  when  you  sent  them. 

Having  thus  addressed  you  severally,  I  conclude  by  ad- 
dressing you  collectively.  It  is  a  long  lane  that  has  no  turn- 
ing. A  period  of  sixteen  years  of  misconduct  and  misfortune, 
is  certainly  long  ^enough  for  any  one  nation  to  suffer  under  ; 
and  upon  a  supposition  that  war  is  not  declared  between  France 
and  you,  I  beg  to  place  a  line  of  conduct  before  you  that  will 
easily  lead  you  put  of  all  your  troubles.  It  has  been  hinted  be- 
fore, and  cannot  be  too  much  attended  to. 

Suppose  America  had  remained  unknown  to  Europe  till  the 
present  year,  and  that  Mr.  Banks  and  Dr.  Solander,  in  another 
voyage  round  the  world,  had  made  the  first  discovery  of  her,  in 
the  same  condition  that  she  is  now  in,  of  arts,  arms,  numbers 
and  civilization.  What,  I  ask,  in  that  case,  would  have  been 
your  conduct  towards  her1?  For  that  will  point  out  what  it 
ought  to  be  now.  The  problems  and  their  solutions  are  equal, 
and  the  right  line  of  the  one  is  the  parallel  of  the  other.  The 
question  takes  in  every  circumstance  that  can  possibly  arise. 
It  reduces  politics  to  a  simple  thought,  and  is  moreover  a  mode 
of  investigation,  in  which,  while  you  are  studying  your  interest 
the  simplicity  of  the  case  will  cheat  you  into  good  temper. 
You  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  suppose  that  you  have  found 
America,  and  she  appears  found  to  your  hand,  and  while  in 
the  joy  of  your  heart  you  stand  still  to  admire  her,  the  path  of 
politics  rises  straight  before  you. 

Were  I  disposed  to  paint  a  contrast,  I  could  easily  set  off 
what  you  have  done  in  the  present  case,  against  what  you  woulrl 


THE   CRISIS.  155 

have  done  in  that  case,  and  by  justly  opposing  them,  conclude  a 
picture  that  would  make  you  blush.  But,  as  when  any  of  the 
prouder  passions  are  hurt,  it  is  much  better  philosophy  to  let  a 
man  slip  into  a  good  temper  than  to  attack  him  in  a  bad  one ; 
for  that  reason,  therefore,  I  only  state  the  case,  and  leave  you 
to  reflect  upon  it. 

To  go  a  little  back  into  politics,  it  will  be  found  that  the  true 
interest  of  Britain  lay  in  proposing  and  promoting  the  independ- 
ence of  America  immediately  after  the  last  peace;  for  the  ex- 
pense which  Britain  had  then  incurred  by  defending  America 
as  her  own  dominions,  ought  to  have  shown  her  the  policy  and 
necessity  of  changing  the  style  of  the  country,  as  the  best  pro- 
bable method  of  preventing  future  wars  and  expense,  and  the 
only  method  by  which  she  could  hold  the  commerce  without  the 
charge  of  sovereignty.  Besides  which,  the  title  which  she  as- 
sumed, of  parent  country,  led  to,  and  pointed  out  the  propriety, 
wisdom  and  advantage  of  a  separation;  for,  as  in  private  life, 
children  grow  into  men,  and  by  setting  up  for  themselves,  ex- 
tend and  secure  the  interest  of  the  whole  family,  so  in  the  set- 
tlement of  colonies  large  enough  to  admit  of  maturity,  the  same 
policy  should  be  pursued,  and  the  same  consequences  would  follow. 
Nothing  hurts  the  affections  both  of  parents  and  children  so  much, 
as  living  too  closely  connected,  and  keeping  up  the  distinction 
too  long.  Domineering  will  not  do  over  those,  who,  by  a  pro- 
gress in  life,  have  become  equal  in  rank  to  their  parents,  that  is, 
when  they  have  families  of  their  own;  and  though  they  may 
conceive  themselves  the  subjects  of  their  advice,  will  not  sup- 
pose them  the  objects  of  their  government.  I  do  not,  by  draw- 
ing this  parallel,  mean  to  admit  the  title  of  parent  country, 
because,  if  it  is  due  anywhere,  it  is  due  to  Europe  collectively, 
and  the  first  settlers  from  England  were  driven  here  by  perse- 
cution. I  mean  only  to  introduce  the  term  for  the  sake  of 
policy,  and  to  show  from  your  title  the  line  of  your  interest. 

When  you  saw  the  state  of  strength  and  opulence,  and  that 
by  her  own  industry,  which  America  had  arrived  at,  you  ought 
to  have  advised  her  to  set  up  for  herself,  and  proposed  an  alli- 
ance of  irfterest  with  her,  and  in  so  doing  you  would  have  drawn, 
and  that  at  her  own  expense,  more  real  advantage,  and  more 
military  supplies  and  assistance,  both  of  ships  and  men,  than 
from  any  weak  and  wrangling  government  that  you  could  ex- 
ercise over  her.  In  short  had  you  studied  only  the  domestic 
politics  of  a  family,  you  would  have  learned  how  to  govern  the 


156  THE   CRISIS. 

state;  but  instead  of  this  easy  and  natural  line,  you  flew  out 
into  everything  which  was  wild  and  outrageous,  till,  by  follow- 
ing the  passion  and  stupidity  of  the  pilot,  you  wrecked  the  ves- 
sel within  sight  of  the  shore. 

Having  shown  what  you  ought  to  have  done,  I  now  proceed 
to  show  why  it  was  not  done.  The  caterpillar  circle  of  the 
court  had  an  interest  to  pursue,  distinct  from,  and  opposed  to 
yours;  for  though,  by  the  independence  of  America  and  an  alli- 
ance therewith,  the  trade  would  have  continued,  if  not  increased, 
as  in  many  articles  neither  country  can  go  to  a  better  market, 
and  though  by  defending  and  protecting  herself,  she  would  have 
been  no  expense  to  you,  and  consequently  your  national  charges 
would  have  decreased,  and  your  taxes  might  have  been  propor- 
tionably  lessened  thereby;  yet  the  striking  off  so  many  places 
from  the  court  calendar  was  put  in  opposition  to  the  interest  of 
the  nation.  The  loss  of  thirteen  government  ships,  with  their 
appendages,  here  and  in  England,  is  a  shocking  sound  in  the 
ear  of  a  hungry  courtier.  Your  present  king  and  ministry  will 
be  the  ruin  of  you;  and  you  had  better  risk  a  revolution  and 
call  a  congress,  than  be  thus  led  on  from  madness  to  despair, 
and  from  despair  to  ruin.  America  has  set  you  the  example, 
and  you  may  follow  it  and  be  free. 

I  now  come  to  the  last  part,  a  war  with  France.  This  is 
what  no  man  in  his  senses  will  advise  you  to,  and  all  good  men 
would  wish  to  prevent.  Whether  France  will  declare  war 
against  you,  is  not  for  me  in  this  place  to  mention,  or  to  hint, 
oven  if  I  kaiew  it;  but  it  must  be  madness  in  you  to  do  it  first. 
The  matter  is  come  now  to  a  full  crisis,  and  peace  is  easy  if 
willingly  set  about.  Whatever  you  may  think,  France  has 
behaved  handsomely  to  you.  She  would  have  been  unjust  to 
herself  to  have  acted  otherwise  than  she  did;  and  having 
accepted  our  offer  of  alliance,  she  gave  you  genteel  notice  of  it. 
There  was  nothing  in  her  conduct  reserved  or  indelicate,  and 
while  she  announced  her  determination  to  support  her  treaty, 
she  left  you  to  give  the  first  offence.  America,  on  her  part, 
has  exhibited  a  character  of  firmness  to  the  world.  Unprepared 
and  unarmed,  without  form  or  government,  she  singly  opposed 
a  nation  that  domineered  over  half  the  globe.  The  greatness 
of  the  deed  demands  respect;  and  though  you  may  feel  resent- 
ment, you  are  compelled  both  to  wonder  and  admire. 

Here  I  rest  my  arguments  and  finish  my  address.  Such  as  it 
is,  it  is  a  gift,  and  you  are  welcome.  It  was  always  my  design 


THE   CRISIS.  157 

to  dedicate  a  Crisis  to  you,  when  the  time  should  come  that 
would  properly  make  it  a  Crisis;  and  when,  likewise,  I  should 
catch  myself  in  a  temper  to  write  it,  and  suppose  you  in  a  con- 
dition to  read  it.  That  time  has  now  arrived,  and  with  it  the 
opportunity  of  conveyance.  For  the  commissioners — poor  com- 
missioners! having  proclaimed,  that  "yet  forty  days  and  Nineveh 
shall  be  overthrown!"  have  waited  out  the  date,  and,  discon- 
tented with  their  God,  are  returning  to  their  gourd.  And  all 
the  harm  I  wish  them  is,  that  it  may  not  wither  about  their 
ears,  and  that  they  may  not  make  their  exit  in  the  belly  of  a 
whale. 

COMMON  SENSE. 
PHILADELPHIA,  Nov.  SI,  1778. 

P.S. — Though  in  the  tranquility  of  my  mind  I  have  con- 
cluded with  a  laugh,  yet  I  have  something  to  mention  to  the 
commissioners,  which,  to  them,  is  serious  and  worthy  their  at- 
tention. Their  authority  is  derived  from  an  act  of  parliament, 
which  likewise  describes  and  limits  their  official  powers.  Their 
commission,  therefore,  is  only  a  recital,  and  personal  investiture, 
of  those  powers,  or  a  nomination  and  description  of  the  persons 
who  are  to  execute  them.  Had  it  contained  anything  contrary 
to,  or  gone  beyond  the  line  of,  the  written  law  from  which  it  is 
derived,  and  by  which  it  is  bound,  it  would,  by  the  English 
constitution,  have  been  treason  in  the  crown,  and  the  king  been 
subject  to  an  impeachment.  He  dared  not,  therefore,  put  in 
his  commission  what  you  have  put  in  your  proclamation,  that 
is,  he  dared  not  have  authorised  you  in  that  commission  to 
burn  and  destroy  anything  in  America.  You  are  both  in  the 
act  and  in  the  commission  styled  commissioners  for  restoring 
peace,  and  the  method  for  doing  it  are  there  pointed  out.  Youi 
last  proclamation  is  signed  by  you  as  commissioners  under  the  act. 
You  make  parliament  the  patron  of  its  contents.  Yet,  in  the  body 
of  it,  you  insert  matters  contrary  both  to  the  spirit  and  letter 
of  the  act,  and  what  likewise  your  king  dared  not  have  put  in 
his  commission  to  you.  The  state  of  things  in  England,  gentle- 
men, is  too  ticklish  for  you  to  run  hazards.  Your  are  account- 
able to  parliament  for  the  execution  of  that  act  according  to  the 
letter  of  it.  Your  heads  may  pay  for  breaking  it,  for  you 
certainly  have  broke  it  by  exceeding  it.  And  as  a  friend,  who 
would  wish  you  to  escape  the  paw  of  the  lion,  as  well  as  the 
^elly  of  the  whale,  .1  civilly  hint  to  you,  to  keep  within  compose. 


158  THE   CRISIS. 

Sir  Harry  Clinton,  strictly  speaking,  is  as  accountable  as  the 
rest;  for  though  a  general,  he  is  like  wise  a  commissioner,  acting 
under  a  superior  authority.  His  first  obedience  is  due  to  the 
act;  and  his  plea  of  being  a  general,  will  not  and  cannot  clear 
him  as  a  commissioner,  for  that  would  suppose  the  crown  in 
its  single  capacity,  to  have  a  power  of  dispensing  with  an  act 
of  parliament.  Your  situation,  gentlemen,  is  nice  and  critical, 
and  the  more  so  because  England  is  unsettled.  Take  heed  ! 
Remember  the  times  of  Charles  the  first!  For  Laud  and  Staf- 
ford fell  by  trusting  to  a  hope  Itke  yours. 

Having  thus  shown  you  the  danger  of  your  proclamation,  I 
now  show  you  the  folly  of  it  The  means  contradict  your 
design;  you  threaten  to  lay  waste,  in  order  to  render  America 
a  useless  acquisition  of  alliance  to  France.  I  reply,  that  the 
more  destruction  you  commit  (ftf  you  could  do  it)  the  more 
valuable  to  France  you  make  that  alliance.  You  can  destroy 
only  houses  and  goods,  and  by  so  doing  you  increase  our  de- 
mand upon  her  for  materials  and  merchandise;  for  the  wants 
of  one  nation,  provided  it  has  freedom  and  credit^  naturally 
produces  riches  to  the  other;  and,  as  you  can  neither  ruin  the 
land  nor  prevent  the  vegetation,  you  would  increase  the  exporta- 
tion of  our  produce  in  payment,  which  would  be  to  her  a  new 
fund  of  wealth.  In  short,  had  you  cast  about  for  a  plan  or 
purpose  to  enrich  your  enemies,  you  could  not  have  hit  upon  a 
better. 

c.  a 

NUMBER  VIII. 

ADDRESSED  TO  THE  PEOPLE  OF  ENGLAND. 

"  TRUSTING  (says  the  king  of  England  in  his  speech  of  No- 
vember last)  in  the  divine  providence,  and  in  the  justice  of  my 
cause,  I  am  firmly  resolved  to  prosecute  the  war  with  vigor, 
and  to  make  every  exertion  in  order  to  compel  our  enemies  to 
equitable  terms  of  peace  and  accommodation."  To  this  declara- 
tion the  United  States  of  America,  and  the  confederated  powers 
of  Europe  will  reply,  if  Britain  will  have  war,  she  shall  have 
enough  of  it. 

Five  years  have  nearly  elapsed  since  the  commencement  of 
hostilities,  and  every  campaign,  by  a  .gradual  decay,  has  lessened 
your  ability  to  conquer,  without  producing  a  serious  thought  on 


THE  CRISIS.  159 

your  condition  or  yonr  fate.  Like  a  prodigal  lingering  in  an 
habitual  consumption,  you  feel  the  relics  of  life,  and  mistake 
them  for  recovery.  New  schemes,  like  new  medicines,  have 
administered  fresh  hopes,  and  prolonged  the  disease  instead  of 
curing  it*  A  change  of  generals,  like  a  change  of  physicians, 
served  only  to  keep  the  flattery  alive,  and  furnish  new  pretences 
for  a  new  extravagance. 

"Caa  Britain  fail?"*  has  been  proudly  asked  at  the  under- 
taking of  every  enterprise,  and  that  "  whatever  she  wills  is  fate,"  t 
has  been  giveii  with  the  solemnity  of  prophetic  confidence,  and 
though  the  question  has  been  constantly  replied  to  by  disap- 
pointment, and  the  prediction  falsified  by  misfortune,  yet  still 
the  insult  continued,  and  your  catalogue  of  national  evils  in- 
creased therewith.  Eager  to  persuade  the  world  of  her  power, 
she  considered  destruction  as  the  minister  of  greatness,  and  con- 
ceived that  the  glory  of  a  nation,  like  that  of  an  Indian,  lay  in 
the  number  of  its  scalps  and  the  miseries  which  it  inflicts. 

Fire,  sword  and  want,  as  far  as  the  arms  of  Britain  could 
extend  them,  have  been  spread  with  wanton  cruelty  along  the 
coast  of  America ;  and  while  you,  remote  from  the  scene  of 
suffering,  had  nothing  to  lose  and  as  little  to  dread,  the  informa- 
tion reached  you  like  a  tale  of  antiquity,  in  which  the  distance 
of  time  defaces  the  conception,  and  changes  the  severest  sor- 
rows into  conversable  amusement. 

This  makes  the  second  paper,  addressed  perhaps  in  vain  to 
the  people  of  England.  That  advice  should  be  taken  wherever 
example  has  failed ;  or  precept  be  regarded  where  warning  is 
ridiculed,  is  like  a  picture  of  hope  resting  on  despair ;  but  when 
time  shall  stamp  with  universal  currency  the  facts  you  have 
long  encountered  with  a  laugh,  and  the  irresistible  evidence  of 
accumulated  losses,  like  the  hand  writing  on  the  wall,  shall  add 
terror  to  distress,  you  will  then,  in  a  conflict  of  suffering,  learn 
to  sympathise  with  others  by  feeling  for  yourselves. 

The  triumphant  appearance  of  the  combined  fleets  in  the 
channel  and  at  your  harbor's  mouth,  and  the  expedition  of 
captain  Paul  Jones,  on  the  western  and  eastern  coasts  of  Eng- 
land and  Scotland,  will,  by  placing  you  in  the  condition  of  an 
endangered  country,  read  to  you  a  stronger  lecture  on  the  calami- 
ties of  invasion,  and  bring  to  your  minds  a  truer  picture  of  pro- 

*  Whitehead's  new-year's  ode  for  1776. 

t  Ode  at  the  installation  of  Lord  North,  for  Cha-cellor  of  the  university 
of  Oxford. 


160  THE   CRISIS. 

miscuous  distress,  than  the  most  finished  rhetoric  can  describe 
or  the  keenest  imagination  conceive. 

"Hitherto  you  have  experienced  the  expenses,  but  nothing  of  the 
miseries  of  war.  Your  disappointments  have  been  accompanied 
•with  no  immediate  suffering,  and  your  losses  came  to  you  only 
by  intelligence.  Like  fire  at  a  distance  you  heard  not  even  the 
cry;  you  felt  not  the  danger,  you  saw  not  the  confusion.  To 
you  everything  has  been  foreign  but  the  taxes  to  support  it. 
You  knew  not  what  it  was  to  be  alarmed  at  midnight  with  an 
armed  enemy  in  the  streets.  You  were  strangers  to  the  dis- 
tressing scene  of  a  family  in  flight,  and  to  the  thousand  restless 
cares  and  tender  sorrows  that  incessantly  arose.  To  see  women 
and  children  wandering  in  the  severity  of  winter,  with  the 
broken  remains  of  a  well-furnished  house,  and  seeking  shelter 
in  every  crib  and  hut,  were  matters  that  you  had  no  conception 
of.  You  knew  not  what  it  was  to  stand  by  and  see  your  goods 
chopped  for  fuel,  and  your  beds  ripped  to  pieces  to  make  pack- 
ages for  plunder.  The  misery  of  others,  like  a  tempestuous 
night,  added  to  the  pleasures  of  your  own  security.  You  even 
enjoyed  the  storm,  by  contemplating  the  difference  of  conditions, 
and  that  which  carried  sorrow  into  the  breasts  of  thousands, 
served  but  to  heighten  in  you  a  species  of  tranquil  pride. — Yet 
these  are  but  the  fainter  sufferings  of  war,  when  compared  with 
carnage  and  slaughter,  the  miseries  of  a  military  hospital,  or  a 
town  in  flames. 

The  people  of  America,  by  anticipating  distress,  had  fortified 
their  minds  against  every  species  you  could  inflict.  They  had 
resolved  to  abandon  their  homes,  to  resign  them  to  destruction, 
and  to  seek  new  settlements  rather  than  submit  Thus  familar- 
ized  to  misfortune,  before  it  arrived,  they  bore  their  portion 
with  the  less  regret:  the  justness  of  their  cause  was  a  continual 
source  of  consolation,  and  the  hope  of  final  victory,  which  never 
left  them,  served  to  lighten  the  load  and  sweeten  the  cup  al- 
lotted them  to  drink. 

But  when  their  troubles  shall  become  yours,  and  invasion  be 
transferred  upon  the  invaders,  you  will  have  neither  their  ex- 
tended wilderness  to  fly  to,  their  cause  to  comfort  you,  nor  their 
hope  to  rest  upon.  Distress  with  them  was  sharpened  by  no 
self-reflection.  They  had  not  brought  it  on  themselves.  On 
the  contrary,  they  had  by  every  proceeding  endeavored  to  avoid 
it,  and  had  descended  even  below  the  mark  of  congressional 
character,  to  prevent  a  war.  The  national  honor  or  the  advant- 


THE  CRISIS.  161 

ages  of  independence  were  matters,  which  at  the  commence- 
ment of  the  dispute,  they  had  never  studied,  and  it  was  only  at 
the  last  moment  that  the  measure  was  resolved  on.  Thus  cir- 
cumstanced, they  naturally  and  conscientiously  felt  a  depen- 
dence upon  providence.  They  had  a  clear  pretension  to  it,  and 
had  they  failed  therein,  infidelity  had  gained  a  triumph. 

But  your  condition  is  the  reverse  of  theirs.  Everything  you 
suffer  you  have  sought:  nay,  had  you  created  mischiefs  on 
purpose  to  inherit  them,  you  could  not  have  secured  your  'title 
by  a  firmer  deed.  The  world  awakens  with  no  pity  at  your 
complaints.  You  felt  none  for  others;  you  deserve  none  for 
yourselves.  Nature  does  not  interest  herself  in  cases  like  yours, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  turns  from  them  with  dislike,  and  aban- 
dons them  to  punishment.  You  may  now  present  memorials 
to  what  court  you  please,  but  so  far  as  America  is  the  object, 
none  will  listen.  The  policy  of  Europe,  and  the  propensity 
there  in  every  mind  to  curb  insulting  ambition,  and  bring 
cruelty  to  judgment,  are  unitedly  against  you;  and  where 
nature  and  interest  reinforce  each  other,  the  compact  is  too 
intimate  to  be  dissolved. 

Make  but  the  case  of  others  your  own,  and  your  own  theirs, 
and  you  will  then  have  a  clear  idea  of  the  whole.  Had  France 
acted  towards  her  colonies  as  you  have  done,  you  would  have 
branded  her  with  every  epithet  of  abhorrence;  and  had  you, 
like  her,  stepped  in  to  succour  a  struggling  people,  all  Europe 
must  have  echoed  with  your  own  applauses.  But  entangled  in 
the  passion  of  dispute,  you  see  it  not  as  you  ought,  and  form 
opinions  thereon  which  suit  with  no  interest  but  your  own. 
You  wonder  that  America  does  not  rise  in  union  with  you  to 
impose  on  herself  a  portion  of  your  taxes  and  reduce  herself 
to  unconditional  submission.  You  are  amazed  that  the  south- 
ern powers  of  Europe  do  not  assist  you  in  conquering  a  country 
which  is  afterwards  to  be  turned  against  themselves;  and  that 
the  northern  ones  do  not  contribute  to  reinstate  you  in  America 
who  already  enjoy  the  market  for  naval  stores  by  the  separation. 
You  seem  surprised  that  Holland  does  not  pour  in  her  succors, 
to  maintain  you  mistress  of  the  seas,  when  her  own  commerce 
is  suffering  by  your  act  of  navigation;  or  that  any  country 
should  study  her  own  interest  while  yours  is  on  the  carpet. 

Such  excesses  of  passionate  folly,  and  unjust  as  well  as  un- 
wise resentment,  have  driven  you  on,  like  Pharaoh,  to  unpitied 
miseries,  and  while  the  importance  of  the  quarrel  shall  per- 
il 


162  THE  CRISIS. 

petuate  your  disgrace,  the  flag  of  America  will  carry  it  round 
the  world.  The  natural  feelings  of  every  rational  being  will 
be  against  you,  and  wherever  the  story  shall  be  told,  you  will 
have  neither  excuse  nor  consolation  left.  With  an  unsparing 
hand,  and  an  insatiable  mind,  you  have  desolated  the  world,  to 
gain  dominion  and  to  lose  it;  and  while,  in  a  frenzy  of  avarice 
and  ambition,  the  east  and  the  west  are  doomed  to  tributary 
bondage,  you  rapidly  earned  destruction  as  the  wages  of  a 
nation. 

At  the  thoughts  of  a  war  at  home,  every  man  amongst  you 
ought  to  tremble.  The  prospect  is  far  more  dreadful  there 
than  in  America.  Here  the  party  that  was  against  the  mea- 
sures of  the  continent  were  in  general  composed  of  a  kind  of 
neutrals,  who  added  strength  to  neither  army.  There  does  not 
exist  a  being  so  devoid  of  sense  and  sentiment  as  to  covet 
"unconditional  submission,"  and  therefore  no  man  in  America 
could  be  with  you  in  principle.  Several  might  from  cowardice 
of  mind,  prefer  it  to  the  hardships  and  dangers  of  opposing  it ; 
but  the  same  disposition  that  gave  them  such  a  choice,  unfitted 
them  to  act  either  for  or  against  us.  But  England  is  rent  into 
parties,  with  equal  shares  of  resolution.  The  principle  which 
produced  the  war  divides  the  nation.  Their  animosities  are  in 
the  highest  state  of  fermentation,  and  both  sides,  by  a  call  of 
the  miiitia,  are  in  arms.  No  human  foresight  can  discern,  no 
conclusion  can  be  formed,  what  turn  a  war  might  take,  if  once 
set  on  foot  by  an  invasion.  She  is  not  now  in  a  fit  disposition 
to  make  a  common  cause  of  her  own  affairs,  and  having  no  con- 
quests to  hope  for  abroad,  and  nothing  but  expenses  arising  at 
home,  her  everything  is  staked  upon  a  defensive  combat,  and 
the  further  she  goes  the  worse  she  is  off. 

There  are  situations  that  a  nation  may  be  in,  in  which  peace 
or  war,  abstracted  from  every  other  consideration,  may  be 
politically  right  or  wrong.  When  nothing  can  be  lost  by  a 
war,  but  what  must  be  lost  without  it,  war  is  then  the  policy 
of  that  country;  and  such  was  the  situation  of  America  at  the 
c  -mencement  of  hostilities;  but  when  no  security  can  be 
gained  by  a  war,  but  what  may  be  accomplished  by  a  peace,  the 
case  becomes  reversed,  and  such  now  is  the  situation  of  Eng- 
land. 

That  America  is  beyond  the  reach  of  conquest,  is  a  fact 
which  experience  has  shown  and  time  confirmed,  and  this  ad- 
mitted, what,  I  ask,  is  now  the  obiect  of  contention?  If  there 


THE  CRISIS.  1G3 

be  any  honor  in  pursuing  self  destruction  with  inflexible  passion 
— if  national  suicide  be  the  perfection  of  national  glory,  you 
may,  with  all  the  pride  of  criminal  happiness,  expire  unenvied 
and  unrivalled.  But  when  the  tumult  of  war  shall  cease,  and 
the  tempest  of  present  passions  be  succeeded  by  calm  reflection, 
or  when  those,  who,  surviving  its  fury,  shall  inherit  from  you 
a  legacy  of  debts  and  misfortunes,  when  the  yearly  revenue 
shall  scarcely  be  able  to  discharge  the  interest  of  the  one,  and 
no  possible  remedy  be  left  for  the  other,  ideas,  far  different 
from  the  present,  will  arise,  and  imbitter  the  remembrance  of 
former  follies.  A  mind  disarmed  of  its  rage,  feels  no  pleasure 
in  contemplating  a  frantic  quarrel.  Sickness  of  thought,  the 
sure  consequence  of  conduct  like  yours,  leaves  no  ability  for 
enjoyment,  no  relish  for  resentment;  and  though,  like  a  man 
in  a  fit,  you  feel  not  the  injury  of  the  struggle,  nor  distinguish 
between  strength  and  disease,  the  weakness  will  nevertheless 
be  proportioned  to  the  violence,  and  the  sense  of  pain  increase 
with  the  discovery. 

To  what  persons  or  to  whose  system  of  politics  you  owe  your 
present  state  of  wretchedness,  is  a  matter  of  total  indifference 
to  America.  They  have  contributed,  however,  unwillingly,  to 
set  her  above  themselves,  and  she,  in  the  tranquility  of  con- 
quest, resigns  the  inquiry.  The  case  now  is  not  so  properly 
who  began  the  war,  as  who  centimes  it.  That  there  are  men 
in  all  countries  to  whom  a  state  of  war  is  a  mine  of  wealth,  is 
a  fact  never  to  be  doubted.  Characters  like  these  naturally 
breed  in  the  putrefaction  of  distempered  times,  and  after  fatten- 
ing on  the  disease,  they  perish  with  it,  or,  impregnated  with 
the  stench,  retreat  into  obscurity. 

But  there  are  several  erroneous  notions  to  which  you  like- 
wise owe  a  share  of  your  misfortunes,  and  which,  if  continued, 
will  only  increase  your  trouble  and  your  losses.  An  opinion 
hangs  about  the  gentlemen  of  the  minority,  that  America 
would  relish  measures  under  their  administration,  which  she 
would  not  from  the  present  cabinet.  On  this  rock  Lord  Chat- 
ham would  have  split  had  he  gained  the  helm,  and  several  of 
his  survivors  are  steering  the  same  course.  Such  distinctions 
in  the  infancy  of  the  argument  had  some  degree  of  foundation, 
but  they  now  serve  no  other  purpose  than  to  lengthen  out  a 
war,  in  which  the  limits  of  a  dispute  being  fixed  by  the  fate  of 
arms,  and  guaranteed  by  treaties,  are  not  to  be  changed  or 
altered  by  trivial  circumstances. 


164  THE   CRISIS. 

•  'The  ministry,  and  many  of  the  minority,  sacrifice  their  time 
in  disputing  on  a  question  with  which  they  have  nothing  to  do, 
namely,  whether  America  shall  be  independent  or  not  1  Whereas 
the  only  question  that  can  come  under  their  determination  is, 
whether  they  will  accede  to  it  or  not?  They  confound  a  mili- 
tary question  with  a  political  one,  and  undertake  to  supply  by 
a  vote  what  they  lost  by  battle.  Say,  she  shall  not  be  inde- 
pendent, and  it  will  signify  as  much  as  if  they  voted  against  a 
decree  of  faith,  or  say  that  she  shall,  and  she  will  be  no  more 
independent  than  before.  Questions,  which  when  determined, 
cannot  be  executed,  serve  only  to  show  the  folly  of  dispute  and 
the  weakness  of  disputants. 

From  a  long  habit  of  calling  America  your  own,  you  suppose 
her  governed  by  the  same  prejudices  and  conceits  which 
govern  yourselves.  Because  you  have  set  up  a  particular  de- 
nomination of  religion  to  the  exclusion  of  all  others,  you  imagine 
she  must  do  the  same,  and  because  you,  with  an  unsociable  nar- 
rowness of  mind,  have  cherished  enmity  against  France  and 
Spain,  you  suppose  her  alliance  must  be  defective  in  friendship. 
Copying  her  notions  of  the  world  from  you,  she  formerly 
thought  as  you  instructed,  but  now  feeling  herself  free,  and 
the  prejudices  removed,  she  thinks  and  acts  upon  a  different 
system.  It  frequently  happens  that  in  proportion  as  we  are 
taught  to  dislike  persons  and  countries,  not  knowing  why,  we 
feel  an  ardor  of  esteem  upon  the  removal  of  the  mistake:  it 
seems  as  if  something  was  to  be  made  amends  for,  and  we 
eagerly  give  in  every  office  of  friendship,  to  atone  for  the  injury 
of  the  error. 

But,  perhaps,  there  is  something  in  the  extent  of  countries, 
which,  among  the  generality  of  the  people,  insensibly  communi- 
cates extension  of  the  mind.  The  soul  of  an  islander,  in  its 
native  state,  seems  bounded  by  the  foggy  confines  of  the  water's 
edge,  and  all  beyond  affords  to  him  matters  only  for  profit  or 
curiosity,  not  for  friendship.  His  island  is  to  him  his  world, 
and  fixed  at  that,  his  everything  centres  in  it ;  while  those,  who 
are  inhabitants  of  a  continent,  by  casting  their  eye  over  a  larger 
field,  take  in  likewise  a  larger  intellectual  circuit,  and  thus 
approaching  nearer  to  an  acquaintance  with  the  universe,  their 
atmosphere  of  thought  is  extended,  and  their  liberality  fills  a 
wider  space.  In  short,  our  minds  seem  to  be  measured  by 
countries  when  we  are  men,  as  they  are  by  places  when  we  are 


THE   CRISIS.  165 

child rer.,  and  until  something  happens  to  disentangle  us  from 
the  prejudices,  we  serve  under  it  without  perceiving  it. 

In  addition  to  this,  it  may  be  remarked,  that  men  who  study 
any  universal  science,  the  principles  of  which  are  universally 
known,  or  admitted,  and  applied  without  distinction  to  the 
common  benafits  of  all  countries,  obtain  thereby  a  larger  share 
of  philantrophy  than  those  who  only  study  national  arts  and 
improvements.  Natural  philosophy,  mathematics  and  astro- 
nomy, carry  the  mind  from  the  country  to  the  creation,  and  give 
it  a  fitness  suited  to  the  extent.  It  was  not  Newton's  honor, 
neither  could  it  be  his  pride,  that  he  was  an  Englishman,  but 
that  he  was  a  philosopher;  the  heavens  had  liberated  him  from 
the  prejudices  of  an  island,  and  science  had  expanded  his  soul 
as  boundless  as  his  studies. 

COMMON  SENSK 

PHILADELPHIA,  March,  17SO. 


NUMBER  IX. 

HAD  America  pursued  her  advantages  with  half  the  spirit 
that  she  resisted  her  misfortunes,  she  would,  before  now,  have 
been  a  conquering  and  a  peaceful  people;  but  lulled  in  the  lap 
of  soft  tranquillity,  she  rested  on  her  hopes,  and  adversity  only 
has  convulsed  her  into  action.  Whether  subtlety  or  sincerity 
at  the  close  of  the  last  year,  induced  the  enemy  to  an  appear- 
ance for  peace,  is  a  point  not  material  to  know;  it  is  sufficient 
that  we  see  the  effects  it  has  had  on  our  politics,  and  that  we 
sternly  rise  to  resent  the  delusion. 

The  war,  on  the  part  of  America,  has  been  a  war  of  natural 
feelings.  Brave  in  distress;  serene  in  conquest;  drowsy  while 
at  rest;  and  in  every  situation  generously  dispose  to  peace.  A 
dangerous  claim,  and  a  most  heightened  zeal,  have,  as  circum- 
stances varied,  succeeded  each  other.  Every  passion,  but  that 
of  despair,  has  been  called  to  a  tour  of  duty ;  and  so  mistaken 
has  been  the  enemy,  of  our  abilities  and  disposition,  that  when 
she  supposed  us  conquered  we  rose  the  conquerors.  The  ex- 
tensiveness  of  the  United  States,  and  the  variety  of  her  re- 
sources; the  universality  of  their  cause,  the  quick  operation  of 
their  feelings,  and  the  similarity  of  their  sentiments,  have,  in 
every  trying  situation,  produced  a  something,  which,  favored  by 
providence,  and  pursued  with  ardor,  has  accomplished  in  an 


166  THE  CRISIS. 

instant  the  business  of  a  campaign.  We  have  never  deliberately 
sought  victory,  but  snatched  it :  and  bravely  undone  in  an 
hour,  the  blotted  operations  of  a  season. 

The  reported  fate  of  Charleston,  like  the  misfortunes  of 
1776,  has  at  last  called  forth  a  spirit,  and  kindled  up  a  flame, 
which  perhaps  no  other  event  could  have  produced.  If  the 
enemy  has  circulated  a  falsehood,  they  have  unwisely  aggrava- 
ted us  into  life,  and  if  they  have  told  us  a  truth,  they  have 
unintentionally  done  us  a  service.  We  were  returning  with 
folded  arms  from  the  fatigues  of  war,  and  thinking  and  sitting 
leisurely  down  to  enjoy  repose.  The  dependence  that  has  been 
put  upon  Charleston  threw  a  drowsiness  over  America.  We 
looked  on  the  business  done — the  conflict  over — the  matter 
settled — or  that  all  which  remained  unfinished  would  follow  of 
itself.  In  this  state  of  dangerous  relaxation,  exposed  to  the 
poisonous  infusions  of  the  enemy,  and  having  no  common  dan- 
ger to  attract  our  attention,  we  were  extinguishing,  by  stages, 
the  ardor  we  began  with,  and  surrendering  by  piece-meals  the 
virtue  that  defended  us. 

Afflicting  as  the  loss  of  Charleston  may  be,  yet  if  it  univer- 
sally rouse  us  from  the  slumber  of  twelve  months  past,  and 
renew  in  us  the  spirit  of  former  days,  it  will  produce  an  ad- 
vantage more  important  than  its  loss.  America  ever  is  what 
she  thinks  herself  to  be.  Governed  by  sentiment,  and  acting 
her  own  mind,  she  becomes,  as  she  pleases,  the  victor  or  the 
victim. 

It  is  not  the  conquest  of  towns,  nor  the  accidental  capture 
of  garrisons,  that  can  reduce  a  country  so  extensive  as  this. 
The  sufferings  of  one  part  can  never  be  relieved  by  the  exer- 
tions of  another,  and  there  is  no  situation  the  enemy  can  be 
placed  in,  that  does  not  afford  to  us  the  same  advantages  he 
seeks  himself.  By  dividing  his  force,  he  leaves  every  post 
attackable.  It  is  a  mode  of  war  that  carries  with  it  a  confes- 
sion of  weakness,  and  goes  on  the  principle  of  distress,  rather 
than  conquest. 

The  decline  of  the  enemy  is  visible,  not  only  in  their  opera- 
tions, but  in  their  plans;  Charleston  originally  made  but  a 
secondary  object  in  the  system  of  attack,  and  it  is  now  become 
the  principal  one,  because  they  have  not  been  able  to  succeed 
elsewhere.  It  would  have  carried  a  cowardly  appearance  in 
Europe  had  they  formed  their  grand  expedition,  in  1776,  against 
a  part  of  the  continent  where  there  was  no  army,  or  not  a 


THE   CRISIS.  167 

sufficient  one  to  oppose  them ;  but  failing  year  after  year  in 
their  impressions  here,  and  to  the  eastward  and  northward, 
they  deserted  their  capital  design,  and  prudently  contenting 
themselves  with  what  they  could  get,  give  a  flourish  of  honor 
to  conceal  disgrace. 

But  this  piece-meal  work  is  not  conquering  the  continent. 
It  is  a  discredit  in  them  to  attempt  it,  and  in  us  to  suffer  it. 
It  is  now  full  time  to  put  an  end  to  a  war  of  aggravations, 
which,  on  one  side,  has  no  possible  object,  and  on  the  other, 
has  every  inducement  which  honor,  interest,  safety  and  happi- 
ness can  inspire.  If  we  suffer  them  much  longer  to  remain 
among  us,  we  shall  become  as  bad  as  themselves.  An  associa- 
tion of  vice  will  reduce  us  more  than  the  sword.  A  nation 
hardened  in  the  practice  of  iniquity  knows  better  how  to  profit 
by  it,  than  a  young  country  newly  corrupted.  We  are  not  a 
match  for  them  in  the  line  of  advantageous  guilt,  nor  they  for 
us  on  the  principles  which  we  bravely  set  out  with.  Our  first 
days  were  our  days  of  honor.  They  have  marked  the  charac- 
ter of  America  wherever  the  story  of  her  wars  are  told :  and 
convinced  of  this,  we  have  nothing  to  do,  but  wisely  and 
unitedly  tread  the  well-known  track.  The  progress  of  a  war 
is  often  as  ruinous  to  individuals,  as  the  issue  of  it  is  to  a 
nation;  and  it  is  not  only  necessary  that  our  forces  be  such 
that  we  be  conquerors  in  the  end,  but  that  by  timely  exertions 
we  be  secure  in  the  interim.  The  present  campaign  will  afford 
an  opportunity  which  has  never  presented  itself  before,  and 
the  preparations  for  it  are  equally  necessary,  whether  Charles- 
ton stand  or  fall.  Suppose  the  first,  it  is  in  that  case  only  a 
failure  of  the  enemy,  not  a  defeat.  All  the  conquest  that  a 
besieged  town  can  hope  for,  is,  not  to  be  conquered ;  and  com- 
pelling an  enemy  to  raise  the  seige,  is  to  the  besieged  a  victory. 
But  there  must  be  a  probability  amounting  almost  to  certainty, 
that  would  justify  a  garrison  marching  out  to  attack  a  retreat. 
Therefore  should  Charleston  not  be  taken,  and  the  enemy 
abandon  the  seige,  every  other  part  of  the  continent  should 
prepare  to  meet  them;  and,  on  the  contrary,  should  it  be  taken, 
the  same  preparations  are  necessary  to  balance  the  loss,  and 
put  ourselves  in  a  condition  to  co-operate  with  our  allies  im- 
mediately on  their  arrival. 

We  are  not  now  fighting  our  battles  alone,  as  we  were  in 
1776;  England  from  a  malicious  disposition  to  America,  has 
not  onlv  not  declared  war  against  France  and  Spain,  but  the 


168  THE  CRISIS. 

better  to  prosecute  her  passions  here,  has  afforded  those  powers 
no  military  object,  and  avoids  them,  to  distress  us.  She  will 
suffer  her  West  India  islands  to  be  overrun  by  France,  and 
her  southern  settlements  to  be  taken  by  Spain,  rather  than 
quit  the  object  that  gratifies  her  revenge.  This  conduct  on  the 
part  of  Britain,  has  pointed  out  the  propriety  of  France  send- 
ing a  naval  and  land  force  to  co-operate  with  America  on  the 
spot.  Their  arrival  cannot  be  very  distant,  nor  the  ravages  of 
the  enemy  long.  The  recruiting  the  army,  and  procuring  the 
supplies,  are  the  two  things  most  necessary  to  be  accomplished, 
and  a  capture  of  either  of  the  enemy's  divisions  will  restore  to 
America  peace  and  plenty. 

At  a  crisis,  big,  like  the  present,  with  expectation  and 
events,  the  whole  country  is  called  to  unanimity  and  exertion. 
Not  an  ability  ought  now  to  sleep,  that  can  produce  but  a  mite 
to  the  general  good,  nor  even  a  whisper  to  pass  that  militates 
against  it.  The  necessity  of  the  case,  and  the  importance  of 
the  consequences,  admit  no  delay  from  a  friend,  no  apology 
from  an  enemy.  To  spare  now  would  be  the  height  of  extrav- 
agance, and  to  consult  present  ease,  would  be  to  sacrifice  it, 
perhaps  forever. 

America,  rich  in  patriotism  and  produce,  can  want  neither 
men  nor  supplies,  when  a  serious  necessity  calls  them  forth. 
The  slow  operation  of  taxes,  owing  to  the  extensiveness  of  col- 
lection, and  their  depreciated  value  before  they  arrived  in  the 
treasury,  have,  in  many  instances,  thrown  a  burden  upon  gov- 
ernment, which  has  been  artfully  interpreted  by  the  enemy 
into  a  general  decline  throughout  the  country.  Yet  this,  incon- 
venient as  it  may  at  first  appear,  is  not  only  remediable,  but 
may  be  turned  into  an  immediate  advantage;  for  it  makes  no 
real  difference,  whether  a  certain  number  of  men,  or  company 
of  militia  (and  in  this  country  every  man  is  a  militia-man)  are 
directed  by  law  to  send  a  recruit  at  their  own  expense,  or 
whether  a  tax  is  laid  on  them  for  that  purpose,  and  the  man 
hired  by  government  afterwards.  The  first,  if  there  is  any 
difference,  is  both  cheapest  and  best,  because  it  saves  the  ex- 
pense which  would  attend  collecting  it  as  a  tax,  and  brings  the 
man  sooner  into  the  field  than  the  modes  of  recruiting  formerly 
used;  and,  on  this  principle,  a  law  has  been  passed  in  this 
state,  for  recruiting  two  men  from  each  company  of  militia, 
which  will  add  upwards  of  a  thousand  to  the  force  of  the 
country. 


THE  CRISIS.  169 

But  the  flame  which  has  broke  forth  in  this  city  since  the 
report  from  New  York,  of  the  loss  of  Charleston,  not  only 
does  honor  to  the  place,  but,  like  the  blaze  of  1776,  will  kindle 
into  action  the  scattered  sparks  throughout  America.  The 
valor  of  a  country  may  be  learned  by  the  bravery  of  its  soldiery, 
•end  the  general  cast  of  its  inhabitants,  but  confidence  of  suc- 
cess is  best  discovered  by  the  active  measures  pursued  by  men 
of  property;  and  when  the  spirit  of  interprise  becomes  so  uni- 
versal as  to  act  at  once  on  all  ranks  of  men,  a  war  may  then, 
and  no"  till  then,  be  styled  truly  popular. 

In  1776,  the  ardor  of  the  enterprising  part  was  considerably 
checked  by  the  real  revolt  of  some,  and  the  coolness  of  others. 
But  in  the  present  case,  there  is  a  firmness  in  the  substance 
and  property  of  the  country  to  the  public  cause.  An  associa- 
tion has  Veen  entered  into  by  the  merchants,  tradesmen,  and 
principal  inhabitants  of  the  city,  to  receive  and  support  the 
new  state  money  at  the  value  of  gold  and  silver;  a  measure 
which,  while  it  does  them  honor,  will  likewise  contribute  to 
their  interest,  by  rendering  the  operations  of  the  campaign 
convenient  and  effectual. 

Nor  has  the  spirit  of  exertion  stopped  here.  A  voluntary 
subscription  is  likewise  begun,  to  raise  a  fund  of  hard  money, 
to  be  given  as  bounties,  to  fill  up  the  full  quota  of  the  Penn- 
sylvania line.  It  has  been  the  remark  of  the  enemy,  that 
everything  in  America  has  been  done  by  the  force  of  govern- 
ment; but  when  she  sees  individuals  throwing  in  their  volun- 
tary aid,  and  facilitating  the  public  measures  in  concert  with 
the  established  powers  of  the  country,  it  will  convince  her  that 
the  cause  of  America  stands  not  on  the  will  of  a  few,  but  on 
the  broad  foundation  of  property  and  popularity. 

Thus  aided  and  thus  supported,  disaffection  will  decline,  and 
the  withered  head  of  tyranny  expire  in  America.  The  ravages 
of  the  enemy  will  be  short  and  limited,  and  like  all  their  for- 
mer ones,  will  produce  a  victory  over  themselves. 

COMMON  SENSE. 
PHILADELPHIA,  June  9th,  17$0. 


At  the  time  of  writing  this  number  of  the  "Crisis," 
the  loss  of  Charleston,  though  believed  by  some,  was  more 
confidently  disbelieved  by  others.  But  there  ought  to  be  no 
longer  a  doubt  upon  the  matter.  Charleston  is  gone,  and  I 
Believe  for  the  want  of  a  sufficient  supply  of  provisions.  The 


170  THE  CRISIS. 

man  that  does  not  now  feel  for  the  honor  of  the  best  and 
noblest  cause  that  ever  a  country  engaged  in,  and  exert  himself 
accordingly,  is  no  longer  worthy  of  a  peaceable  residence  among 
a  people  determined  to  be  free. 

C.  S. 


NUMBER  X. 
©N  THE  SUBJECT  OF  TAXATION. 

IT  is  impossible  to  sit  down  and  think  seriously  on  the 
affairs  of  America,  but  the  original  principles  on  which  she 
resisted,  and  the  glow  and  ardor  which  they  inspired,  will  occur 
like  the  undefaced  remembrance  of  a  lovely  scene.  To  trace 
over  in  imagination  the  purity  of  the  cause,  the  voluntary  sacri- 
fices that  were  made  to  support  it,  and  all  the  various  turnings 
of  the  war  in  its  defence,  is  at  once  paying  and  receiving 
respect.  The  principles  deserve  to  be  remembered,  and  to 
remember  them  rightly  is  repossessing  them.  In  this  indulg- 
ence of  generous  recollection,  we  become  gainers  by  what  we 
seem  to  give,  and  the  more  we  bestow  the  richer  we  become. 

So  extensively  right  was  the  ground  on  which  America  pro 
ceeded,  that  it  not  only  took  in  every  just  and  liberal  sentiment 
which  could  impress  the  heart,  but  made  it  the  direct  interest 
of  every  class  and  order  of  men  to  defend  the  country.  Th< 
war,  on  the  part  of  Britain,  was  originally  a  war  of  covetous 
ness.  The  sordid,  and  not  the  splendid,  passions  gave  it  being. 
The  fertile  fields  and  prosperous  infancy  of  America  appeared 
to  her  as  mines  for  tributary  wealth.  She  viewed  the  hive, 
and  disregarding  the  industry  that  had  enriched  it,  thirsted  for 
the  honey.  But  in  the  present  stage  of  her  affairs,  the  violence 
of  temper  is  added  to  the  rage  of  avarice;  and  therefore,  thai 
which  at  the  first  setting  out  proceeded  from  purity  of  principle 
and  public  interest,  is  now  heightened  by  all  the  obligations  of 
necessity;  for  it  requires  but  little  knowledge  of  human  nature 
to  discern  what  would  be  the  consequences,  were  America  again 
reduced  to  the  subjection  of  Britain.  Uncontrolled  power,  in 
the  hands  of  an  incensed,  imperious,  and  rapacious  conqueror, 
is  an  engine  of  dreadful  execution,  and  woe  be  to  that  country 
over  which  it  can  be  exercised.  The  names  of  whig  and  tory 
would  then  be  sunk  in  the  general  term  of  rebel,  and  thp 


THE   CRISIS.  171 

oppregsion,  whatever  it  might  be,  would,  with  very  few  in- 
stances of  exception,  light  equally  on  all. 

Britain  did  not  go  to  war  with  America  for  the  sake  of 
dominion,  because  she  was  then  in  possession;  neither  was  it 
for  the  extension  of  trade  and  commerce,  because  she  had  mono- 
polized the  whole,  and  the  country  had  yielded  to  it;  neither 
was  it  to  extinguish  what  she  might  call  rebellion,  because 
before  she  began  no  resistance  existed.  It  could  then  be  from 
no  other  motive  than  avarice,  or  a  design  of  establishing,  in 
the  first  instance,  the  same  taxes  in  America  as  are  paid  in 
England  (which,  as  I  shall  presently  show,  are  above  eleven 
times  heavier  than  the  taxes  we  now  pay  for  the  present  year, 
1780)  or,  in  the  second  instance,  to  confiscate  the  whole 
property  of  America,  in  case  of  resistance  and  conquest  of  the 
latter,  of  which  she  had  then  no  doubt. 

I  shall  now  proceed  to  show  what  the  taxes  in  England  are, 
and  what  the  yearly  expense  of  the  present  war  is  to  her — 
what  the  taxes  of  this  country  amount  to,  and  what  the 
annual  expense  of  defending  it  effectually  will  be  to  us;  and 
shall  endeavour  concisely  to  point  out  the  cause  of  our  difficul- 
ties, and  the  advantages  on  one  side,  and  the  consequences  on 
the  other,  in  case  we  do,  or  do  not,  put  ourselves  in  an  effectual 
state  of  defence.  I  mean  to  be  open,  candid  and  sincere.  I 
see  a  universal  wish  to  expel  the  enemy  from  the  country,  a 
murmuring  because  the  war  is  not  carried  on  with  more  vigor, 
and  my  intention  is  to  show,  as  shortly  as  possible,  both  the 
reason  and  the  remedy. 

The  number  of  souls  in  England  (exclusive  of  Scotland  and 
Ireland)  is  seven  millions,  *  and  the  number  of  souls  in  America 
is  three  millions. 

The  amount  of  taxes  in  England  (exclusive  of  Scotland  and 
Ireland)  was,  before  the  present  war  commenced,  eleven  millions 
six  hundred  and  forty-two  thousand  six  hundred  and  fifty- 
three  pounds  sterling;  which,  on  an  average,  is  no  less  a  sum 
than  one  pound  thirteen  shillings  and  three-pence  sterling  per 
head  per  annum,  men,  women  and  children;  besides  county 
taxes,  for  the  support  of  the  poor,  and  a  tenth  of  all  the  pro- 
duce of  the  earth  for  the  support  of  the  bishops  and  clergy. 
Nearly  five  millions  of  this  sum  went  annually  to  pay  the 
interest  of  the  national  debt,  contracted  by  former  wars,  and 

*  This  is  taking  the  highest  number  that  the  people  of  England  have  been, 
or  can  be  rated  at. 


172  THE   CRISIS. 

the  remaining  sum  of  six  millions  six  hundred  and  forty-two 
thousand  six  hundred  pounds  was  applied  to  defray  the  yearly 
expense  of  government,  the  peace  establishment  of  the  army 
and  navy,  placemen,  pensioners,  &c.,  consequently,  the  whole 
of  the  enormous  taxes  being  thus  appropriated,  she  had  nothing 
to  spare  out  of  them  towards  defrayirg  the  expenses  of  the 
present  war  or  any  other.  *  Yet  had  she  not  been  in  debt  at 
the  beginning  of  the  war,  as  we  were  not,  and,  like  us,  had  only 
a  land  and  not  a  naval  war  to  carry  on,  her  then  revenue  of 
eleven  millions  and  a-half  pounds  sterling  would  have  defrayed 
all  her  annual  expenses  of  war  and  government  within  each 
year. 

But  this  not  being  the  case  with  her,  she  is  obliged  to  bor- 
row about  ten  millions  pounds  sterling,  yearly,  to  prosecute  the 
war  that  she  is  now  engaged  in,  (this  year  she  borrowed  twelve) 
and  lay  on  new  taxes  to  discharge  the  interest;  allowing  that  the 
present  war  has  cost  her  only  fifty  millions  sterling,  the  interest 
thereon,  at  five  per  cent.,  will  be  two  millions  and  an  half; 
therefore  the  amount  of  her  taxes  now  must  be  fourteen 
millions,  which  on  an  average  is  no  less  than  forty  shillings 
sterling  per  head,  men,  women  and  children,  throughout  the 

*  The  following  is  taken  from  Dr.  Price's  state  of  the  taxes  of  England, 
p.  96,  97,  98. 

An  account  of  the  money  drawn  from  the  public  by  taxes,  annually,  being 
the  medium  of  three  years  before  the  year  1776. 

Amount  of  customs  in  England £2,528,275 

Amount  of  the  excise  in  England     ........  4,649,892 

Land  tax  at  fe 1,300,000 

Land  tax  at  Is.  in  the  pound 450,000 

Salt  duties .  218,739 

Duties  on  stamps,  cards,  dice,  advertisements,  bonds, 

leases,  indentures,  newspapers,  almanacks,  &c.    .    .  280,788 

Duties  on  houses  and  windows 385,8(59 

Post  office,  seizures,  wine  licences,  hackney  coaches,  &c.  250,000 

Annual  profits  from  lotteries 150,000 

Expense  of  collecting  the  excise  in  England       ....  297,887 
Expense  of  collecting  the  customs  in  England    ....  468,700 
Interest  of  loans  on  the  land  tax  at  4s.  expenses  of  collec- 
tion, militia,  &c 250,000 

Perquisites,  &c.  to  custsm-house  officers,  &c  supposed  .  250,000 
Expense  of  collecting  the  salt  duties  in  England  10£  per 

cent 27,000 

Bounties  on  fish  exported 18,000 

Expense  of  collecting  the  duties  on  stamps,  cards,  adver- 

tisments,  &c.  at  5$  per  cent 18,000 

Total    .  .    .          £11,642,653 


THE  CRISIS.  173 

nation.  Now  as  this  expense  of  fifty  millions  was  borrowed  on 
the  hopes  of  conquering  America,  and  as  it  was  avarice  which 
first  induced  her  to  commence  the  war,  how  truly  wretched  and 
deplorable  would  the  condition  of  this  country  be,  were  she,  by 
her  own  remissness,  to  suffer  an  enemy  of  such  a  disposition, 
and  so  circumstanced,  to  reduce  her  to  subjection. 

I  now  proceed  to  the  revenues  of  America. 

I  have  already  stated  the  number  of  souls  in  America  to  be 
three  millions,  and  by  a  calculation  that  I  have  made,  which  I 
have  every  reason  to  believe  is  sufficiently  correct,  the  whole 
expense  of  the  war,  and  the  support  of  the  several  governments, 
may  be  defrayed  by  two  million  pounds  sterling  annually; 
which,  on  an  average,  is  thirteen  shillings  and  four  pence  per 
head,  men,  women,  and  children,  and  the  peace  establishment 
at  the  end  of  the  war,  will  be  but  three-quarters  of  a  million, 
or  five  shillings  sterling  per  head.  Now,  throwing  out  of  the 
question  everything  of  honor,  principle,  happiness,  freedom  and 
reputation  in  the  world,  and  taking  it  up  on  the  simple  ground 
of  interest,  I  put  the  following  case  : 

Suppose  Britain  was  to  conquer  America,  and,  as  a  conqueror, 
was  to  lay  her  under  no  other  conditions  than  to  pay  the  same 
proportion  towards  her  annual  revenue  which  the  people  of 
England  pay;  our  share,  in  that  case,  would  be  six  million 
pounds  sterling  yearly ;  can  it  then  be  a  question,  whether  it  is 
best  to  raise  two  millions  to  defend  the  country,  and  govern  it 
ourselves,  and  only  three-quarters  of  a  million  afterwards,  or 
pay  six  millions  to  have  it  conquered,  and  let  the  enemy  govern 
it? 

Can  it  be  supposed  that  conquerors  would  choose  to  put  them- 
selver  in  a  worse  condition  than  what  they  granted  to  the  con- 
quered ?  In  England,  the  tax  on  rum  is  five  shillings  and  one 
penny  sterling  per  gallon,  which  is  one  silver  dollar  and  four- 
teen coppers.  Now  would  it  not  be  laughable  to  imagine,  that 
after  the  expense  they  have  been  at,  they  would  let  either  whig 
or  tory  drink  it  cheaper  than  themselves  ?  Coffee,  which  is  so 
inconsiderable  an  article  of  consumption  and  support  here,  is 
there  loaded  with  a  duty,  which  makes  the  price  between  five 
and  six  shillings  per  pound,  and  a  penalty  of  fifty  pounds  ster- 
ling on  any  person  detected  in  roasting  it  in  his  own  house. 
There  is  scarcely  a  necessary  of  life  that  you  can  eat,  drink, 
wear,  or  enjoy,  that  is  not  there  loaded  with  a  tax;  even  the 
light  from  heaven  is  only  permitted  to  shine  into  their  dwell- 


174  THE  CRISIS. 

ings  by  paying  eighteen  pence  sterling  per  window  annually ; 
and  the  humblest  drink  of  life,  small  beer,  cannot  there  be  pur- 
chased without  a  tax  of  nearly  two  coppers  per  gallon,  besides 
a  heavy  tax  upon  the  malt,  and  another  on  the  hops  before  it 
is  brewed,  exclusive  of  a  land  tax  on  the  earth  which  produces 
them.  In  short,  the  condition  of  that  country,  in  point  of  tax- 
ation, is  so  oppressive,  the  number  of  her  poor  so  great,  and  the 
extravagance  and  rapaciousness  of  the  court  so  enormous,  that, 
were  they  to  effect  a  conquest  of  America,  it  is  then  only  that 
the  distresses  of  America  would  begin.  Neither  would  it  sig- 
nify anything  to  a  man  whether  he  be  whig  or  tory.  The  peo- 
ple of  England,  and  the  ministry  of  that  country,  know  us  by 
no  such  distinctions.  What  they  want  is  clear,  solid  revenue, 
and  the  modes  which  they  would  take  to  procure  it  would  oper- 
ate alike  on  all.  Their  manner  of  reasoning  would  be  short, 
because  they  would  naturally  infer,  that  if  we  were  able  to 
carry  on  a  war  of  five  or  six  years  against  them,  we  were  able 
to  pay  the  same  taxes  which  they  do. 

I  have  already  stated  that  the  expense  of  conducting  the 
present  war,  and  the  government  of  the  several  states,  may  be 
done  for  two  millions  sterling,  and  the  establishment  in  time  of 
peace  for  three-quarters  of  a  million.* 

As  to  navy  matters,  they  flourish  so  well,  and  are  so  well 
attended  to  by  individuals,  that  I  think  it  consistent  on  every 
principle  of  real  use  and  economy,  to  turn  the  navy  into  hard 
money  (keeping  only  three  or  four  packets)  and  apply  it  to  the 
service  of  the  army.  We  shall  not  have  a  ship  the  less ;  the 
use  of  them,  and  the  benefit  from  them,  will  be  greatly  increased, 
and  their  expense  saved.  We  are  now  allied  with  a  formidable 
naval  power,  from  whom  we  derive  the  assistance  of  a  navy. 
And  the  line  in  which  we  can  prosecute  the  war,  so  as  to  reduce 
the  common  enemy  and  benefit  the  alliance  most  effectually, 
will  be  by  attending  closely  to  the  land  service. 

I  estimate  the  charge  of  keeping  up  and  maintaining  an  army, 
officering  them,  and  all  expenses  included,  sufficient  for  the 
defence  of  the  country,  to  be  equal  to  the  expense  of  forty  thou- 
sand men  at  thirty  pounds  sterling  per  head,  which  is  one 
million  two  hundred  thousand  pounds. 

*  I  have  made  the  calculations  in  sterling,  because  it  is  a  rate  generally 
known  in  all  the  states,  and  because,  likewise,  it  admits  of  an  easy  compari- 
son between  6~ur  expense  to  support  the  war,  and  those  of  the  enemy.  Four 
silver  dollars  and  a  half  is  one  pound  sterling,  and  three  pence  over. 


THE  CRISIS.  175 

I  likewise  allow  four  hundred  thousand  pounds  for  continen- 
tal expenses  at  home  and  abroad. 

And  four  hundred  thousand  pounds  for  the  support  of  the 
several  state  governments — the  amount  will  then  be, 

For  the  army £1,200,000 

Continental  expenses  at  home  and  abroad    ....          400,000 
Government  of  the  several  states 400,000 

Total £2,000,000 

I  take  the  proportion  of  this  state,  Pennsylvania,  to  be  an 
eighth  part  of  the  thirteen  United  States;  the  quota  then  for 
us  to  raise  will  be  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pounds  ster- 
ling; two  hundred  thousand  of  which  will  be  our  share  for  the 
support  and  pay  of -the  army,  and  continental  expenses  at  home 
and  abroad,  and  fifty  thousand  pounds  for  the  support  of  the 
state  government. 

L  order  to  gain  an  idea  of  the  proportion  in  which  the  rais- 
ing such  a  sum  will  fall,  I  make  the  following  calculation. 

Pennsylvania  contains  three  hundred  and  seventy-five  thou- 
sand inhabitants,  men,  women,  and  children;  which  is  likewise 
an  eighth  of  the  number  of  inhabitants  of  the  whole  United 
States;  therefore  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pounds  ster- 
ling to  be  raised  among  three  hundred  and  seventy-five  thousand 
persons,  is,  on  an  average,  thirteen  shillings  and  four  pence  per 
head,  per  annum,  or  something  more  than  one  shilling  sterling 
per  month.  And  our  proportion  of  three-quarters  of  a  million 
for  the  government  of  the  country,  in  the  time  of  peace,  will  be 
ninety -three  thousand  seven  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  sterling ; 
fifty  thousand  of  which  will  be  for  the  government  expenses  of 
the  state,  and  forty-three  thousand  seven  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds  for  continental  expenses  at  home  and  abroad. 

The  peace  establishment  then  will,  on  an  average,  be  five 
shillings  sterling  per  head.  Whereas,  was  England  now  to 
stop,  and  the  war  cease,  her  peace  establishment  would  continue 
the  same  as  it  now  is,  viz.,  forty  shillings  per  head;  therefore 
was  our  taxes  necessary  for  carrying  on  the  war,  as  much  per  head 
as  hers  now  is,  and  the  difference  to  be  only  whether  we  should, 
at  the  end  of  the  war,  pay  at  the  rate  of  five  shillings  per  head, 
or  forty  shillings  per  head,  the  case  needs  no  thinking  of.  But 
as  we  can  securely  defend  and  keep  the  country  for  one  third 
less  than  what  our  burden  would  be  if  it  was  conquered,  and 
t  the  governments  afterwards  for  one  eighth  of  what 


176  THE  CEISI8. 

Britain  would  levy  on  us,  and  could  I  find  a  miser  whose  heart 
never  left  the  emotion  of  a  spark  of  principle,  even  that  man, 
uninfluenced  by  every  love  but  the  love  of  money,  and  capable 
of  no  attachment  but  to  his  interest,  would  and  must,  from  the 
frugality  which  governs  him,  contribute  to  the  defence  of  the 
country,  or  he  ceases  to  be  a  miser  and  becomes  an  idiot.  But 
when  we  take  in  with  it  everything  that  can  ornament  man- 
kind; when  the  line  of  our  interest  becomes  the  line  of  our  happi- 
ness; when  all  that  can  cheer  and  animate  the  heart;  when  a 
sense  of  honor,  fame,  character,  at  home  and  abroad,  are  inter- 
woven not  only  with  the  security  but  the  increase  of  property, 
there  exists  not  a  man  in  America,  unless  he  be  an  hired  emis- 
sary, who  does  not  see  that  his  good  is  connected  with  keeping 
up  a  sufficient  defence. 

I  do  not  imagine  that  an  instance  can  be  produced  in  the 
world,  of  a  country  putting  herself  to  such  an  amazing  charge 
to  conquer  and  enslave  another,  as  Britain  has  done.  The  sum 
is  too  great  for  her  to  think  of  with  any  tolerable  degree  of 
temper ;  and  when  we  consider  the  burden  she  sustains,  as  well 
as  the  disposition  she  has  shown,  it  would  be  the  height  of  folly 
in  us  to  suppose  that  she  would  not  reimburse  herself  by  the 
most  rapid  means,  had  she  America  once  more  within  her  power. 
With  such  an  oppression  of  expense,  what  would  an  empty 
conquest  be  to  her?  What  relief  under  such  circumstances 
could  she  derive  from  a  victory  without  a  prize  1  It  was  money, 
it  was  revenue  she  first  went  to  war  for,  and  nothing  but  that 
would  satisfy  her.  It  is  not  the  nature  of  avarice  to  be  satis- 
fied with  anything  else.  Every  passion  that  acts  upon  mankind 
has  a  peculiar  mode  of  operation.  Many  of  them  are  temporary 
and  fluctuating;  they  admit  of  cessation  and  variety.  But  ava- 
rice is  a  fixed,  uniform  passion.  It  neither  abates  of  its  vigor 
nor  changes  its  object;  and  the  reason  why  it  does  not,  is 
founded  in  the  nature  of  things,  for  wealth  has  not  a  rival 
where  avarice  is  a  ruling  passion.  One  beauty  may  excel  an- 
other, and  extinguish  from  the  mind  of  man  the  pictured  remem- 
orance  of  a  former  one :  but  wealth  is  the  phoenix  of  avarice, 
and  therefore  cannot  seek  a  new  object  because,  there  is  not 
Another  in  the  world. 

I  now  pass  on  to  show  the  value  of  the  present  taxes,  and 
compare  them  with  the  annual  expense;  but  this  I  shall  pre- 
tace  with  a  few  explanatory  remarks. 

"There  are  two  distinct  things  which  make  the  payment  of 


THE   CRISIS.  177 

taxes  difficult;  the  one  is  the  large  and  real  value  of  the  sum 
to  be  paid,  and  the  other  is  the  scarcity  of  the  thing  in  which 
the  payment  is  to  be  made;  and  although  these  appear  to  be 
one  and  the  same,  they  are  in  several  instances  not  only  differ- 
ent, but  the  difficulty  springs  from  different  causes. 

Suppose  t,  tax  u>  be  laid  equal  to  one  half  of  what  a  man's 
yearly  income  is,  such  a  tax  could  not  be  paid,  because  the  pro- 
perty could  not  be  spared;  and  on  the  other  hand,  suppose  a 
very  trifling  tax  was  laid,  to  be  collected  in  pearls,  such  a  tax 
likewise  could  not  be  paid,  because  they  could  not  be  had. 
Now  any  person  may  see  that  these  are  distinct  cases,  and  the 
latter  of  them  is  a  representation  of  our  own. 

That  the  difficulty  cannot  proceed  from  the  former,  that  is, 
from  the  real  value  or  weight  of  the  tax,  is  evident  at  the  first 
view  to  any  person  who  will  consider  it. 

The  amount  of  the  quota  of  taxes  for  this  state,  for  the  pres- 
ent year,  1780,  (and  so  in  proportion  for  evey  other  state)  is 
twenty  millions  of  dollars,  which,  at  seventy  for  one,  is  but  sixty- 
four  thousand  two  hundred  and  eighty  pounds  three  shillings 
sterling,  and  on  an  average,  is  no  more  than  three  shillings  and 
fivepence  sterling  per  head,  per  annum,  per  man,  woman  and 
child,  or  threepence  two-fifths  per  head  per  month.  Now  here 
is  a  clear,  positive  fact,  that  cannot  be  contradicted,  and  which 
proves  that  the  difficulty  cannot  be  in  the  weight  of  the  tax, 
for  in  itself  it  is  a  trifle,  and  far  from  being  adequate  to  our 
quota  of  the  expense  of  the  war.  The  quit-rents  of  one  penny 
sterling  per  acre  only  one  half  of  the  state,  come  to  upwards 
of  fifty  thousand  pounds,  which  is  almost  as  much  as  all  the 
taxes  of  the  present  year,  and  as  those  quit-rents  make  no  part 
of  the  taxes  then  paid,  and  are  now  discontinued,  the  quantity 
of  money  drawn  for  public  service  this  year,  exclusive  of  the 
militia  fines,  which  I  shall  take  notice  of  in  the  process  of  this 
work,  is  less  than  what  was  paid  and  payable  in  any  year  pre- 
ceding the  revolution,  and  since  the  last  war ;  what  I  mean  is, 
that  the  quit-rents  and  taxes  taken  together  came  to  a  larger 
sum  then,  than  the  present  taxes  without  the  quit-rents  do 
now. 

My  intention  by  these  arguments  and  calculations  is  to  place 
the  difficulty  to  the  right  cause,  and  show  that  it  does  not  pro- 
ceed from  the  weight  or  worth  of  the  tax,  but  from  the  scarcity 
of  the  medium  in  which  it  is  paid;  and  to  illustrate  this  point 
still  further,  I  shall  now  show,  that  if  the  tax  of  twenty  mil. 

12 


178  THE  CRISia 

lions  of  dollars  was  of  four  times  the  real  value  it  now  is,  or 
nearly  so,  which  would  be  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
pounds  sterling,  and  would  be  our  full  quota,  this  sum  would 
have  been  raised  with  more  ease,  and  have  been  less  felt,  than 
the  present  sum  of  only  sixty-four  thousand  two  hundred  and 
eighty  pounds. 

The  convenience  or  inconvenience  of  paying  a  tax  in  money 
arises  from  the  quantity  of  money  that  can  be  spared  out  of 
trade. 

"When  the  emissions  stopped,  the  continent  was  left  in 
possession  of  two  hundred  millions  of  dollars,  perhaps  as  equall  v 
dispersed  as  it  was  possible  for  trade  to  do  it.  And  as  no  more 
was  to  be  issued,  the  rise  or  fall  of  prices  could  neither  increase 
nor  diminish  the  quantity.  It  therefore  remained  the  same 
through  all  the  fluctuations  of  trade  and  exchange. 

Now  had  the  exchange  stood  at  twenty  for  one,  which  wan 
the  rate  congress  calculated  upon  when  they  arranged  the  quota 
of  the  several  states,  the  latter  end  of  last  year,  trade  would 
have  been  carried  on  for  nearly  four  times  less  money  than  it 
is  now,  and  consequently  the  twenty  millions  would  have  been 
spared  with  much  greater  ease,  and  when  collected  would  have 
been  of  almost  four  times  the  value  than  they  now  are.  And 
on  the  other  hand,  was  the  depreciation  to  be  ninety  or  one 
hundred  for  one,  the  quantity  required  for  trade  would  be  more 
than  at  sixty  or  seventy  for  one,  and  though  the  value  of  them 
would  be  less,  the  difficulty  of  sparing  the  money  out  of  trade 
would  be  greater.  And  on  these  facts  and  arguments  I  rest 
the  matter,  to  prove  that  it  is  not  the  want  of  property,  but 
the  scarcity  of  the  medium  by  which  the  proportion  of  property 
for  taxation  is  to  be  measured  out,  that  makes  the  embarrass- 
ment which  we  lie  under.  There  is  not  money  enough,  and, 
what  is  equally  as  true,  the  people  will  not  let  there  be  money 
enough. 

While  I  am  on  the  subject  of  the  currency,  I  shall  offer  one 
remark  which  will  appear  true  to  everybody,  and  can  be  ac- 
counted for  by  nobody,  which  is,  that  the  better  the  times  were, 
the  worse  the  money  grew;  and  the  worse  the  times  were,  the 
better  the  money  stood.  It  never  depreciated  by  any  advantage 
obtained  by  the  enemy.  The  trouble  of  1776,  and  the  loss  of 
Philadelphia  in  1777,  made  no  sensible  impression  on  it,  and 
every  one  knows  that  the  surrender  of  Charleston  did  not  pro- 
duce the  least  alteration  in  the  rate  of  exchange,  which,  for 


THE   CRISIS.  179 

long  before,  and  for  more  •than  three  months  after,  stood  at 
sixty  for  one.  It  seems  as  if  the  certainty  of  its  being  our  own, 
made  us  careless  of  its  value,  and  that  the  most  distant  thoughts 
of  losing  it  made  us  Hug  it  the  closer,  like  something  we  were  loth 
to  part  with ;  or  that  we  depreciate  it  for  our  pastime,  which, 
when  called  to  seriousness  by  the  enemy,  we  leave  off  to  renew 
again  at  our  leisure.  In  short,  our  good  luck  seems  to  break 
us,  and  our  bad  makes  us  whole. 

Passing  on  from  this  digression,  I  shall  now  endeavor  to  bring 
into  one  view  the  several  parts  which  I  have  already  stated, 
and  form  thereon  some  propositions,  and  conclude. 

I  have  placed  before  the  reader,  the  average  tax  per  head, 
paid  by  the  people  of  England :  which  is  forty  shillings  sterling. 
And  I  have  shown  the  rate  on  an  average  per  head,  which 
will  defray  all  the  expenses  of  the  war  to  us,  and  support  the 
several  governments  without  running  the  country  into  debt, 
which  is  thirteen  shillings  and  fourpence. 

I  have  shown  what  the  peace  establishment  may  be  conducted 
forj  viz.,  an  eighth  part  of  what  it  would  be,  if  under  the 
government  of  Britain. 

And  I  have  likewise  shown  what  the  average  per  head  of  the 
present  taxes  are,  namely,  three  shillings  and  fivepence  sterling, 
or  threepence  two-fifths  per  month ;  and  that  their  whole  yearly 
value,  in  sterling,  is  only  sixty-four  thousand  two  hundred  and 
eighty  pounds.  Whereas  our  quota,  to  keep  the  payments 
equal  with  the  expenses,  is  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
pounds.  Consequently  there  is  a  deficiency  of  one  hundred 
and  eighty-five  thousand,  seven  hundred  and  twenty  pounds, 
and  the  same  proportion  of  defect,  according  to  the  several 
quotas,  happens  in  every  other  state.  And  this  defect  is  the 
cause  why  the  army  has  has  been  so  indifferently  fed,  clothed 
and  paid.  It  is  the  cause,  likewise,  of  the  nerveless  state  of 
the  campaign,  and  the  insecurity  of  the  country.  Now,  if  a 
tax  equal  to  thirteen  and  fourpence  per  head,  will  remove  all 
these  difficulties,  and  make  the  people  secure  in  their  homes, 
leave  them  to  follow  the  business  of  their  stores  and  farms 
unmolested,  and  not  only  keep  out,  but  drive  out  the  enemy 
from  the  country ;  and  if  the  neglect  of  raising  this  sum  will 
let  them  in,  and  produce  the  evils  which  might  be  prevented — 
on  which  side,  I  ask,  does  the  wisdom,  interest  and  policy  lie  ? 
Or,  rather,  would  it  not  be  an  insult  to  reason,  to  put  the  ques- 
tion 1  The  sum  when  proportioned  out  according  to  the  several 


ISO  THE  CRISIS, 

abilities  of  the  people,  can  hurt  nd  one,  but  an  inroad  from  the 
enemy  ruins  hundreds  of  families. 

Look  at  the  destruction  done  in  this  city.  The  many  houses 
totally  destroyed,  and  others  damaged ;  tfhe  waste  of  fences  in 
the  country  around  it,  besides  the  plunder  of  furniture,  forage, 
and  provisions.  I  do  not  suppose  that  half  a  million  sterling 
would  reinstate  the  sufferers;  and  does  this,  I  ask,  bear  any 
proportion  to  the  expense  that  would  make  us  secure.  The 
damage,  on  an  average,  is  at  least  ten  pounds  sterling  per  head, 
which  is  as  much  as  thirteen  shillings  and  four  pence  per  heap 
comes  to  for  fifteen  years.  The  same  has  happened  on  the 
frontiers,  and  in  the  Jerseys,  New  York,  and  other  places  where 
the  enemy  has  been — Carolina  and  Georgia  are  likewise  suffer- 
ing the  same  fate. 

That  the  people  generally  do  not  understand  the  insufficiency 
of  the  taxes  to  carry  on  the  war,  is  evident,  not  only  from  com- 
mon observation,  but  from  the  construction  of  several  petitions, 
which  were  presented  to  the  assembly  of  this  state  against  the 
recommendations  of  congress  of  the  1 8th  of  March  last,  for  tak- 
ing up  and  funding  the  present  currency  at  forty  for  one,  and 
issuing  new  money  in  its  stead.  The  prayer  of  the  petition  was, 
that  the  currency  might  be  appreciated  by  taxes  (meaning  the 
present  taxes)  and  that  part  of  the  taxes  be  applied  to  t!te  sup- 
port of  the  army,  if  the  army  could  not  be  otherwise  supported. 
Now  it  could  not  have  been  possible  for  such  a  petition  to  have 
been  presented,  had  the  petitioners  known,  that  so  far  from  part 
of  the  taxes  being  sufficient  for  the  army,  the  whole  of  them  falls 
three-fourths  short  of  the  year's  expenses. 

Before  I  proceed  to  propose  methods  by  which  a  sufficiency 
of  money  may  be  raised,  I  shall  take  a  short  view  of  the  general 
state  of  the  country. 

Notwithstanding  the  weight  of  the  war,  the  ravages  of  the 
enemy,  and  the  obstructions  she  has  thrown  in  the  way  of  trade 
and  commerce,  so  soon  does  a  young  country  outgrow  misfor- 
tune, that  America  has  already  surmounted  many  that  heavily 
oppressed  her.  For  the  first  year  or  two  of  t!he  war,  we  were 
shut  up  within  our  ports,  scarce  venturing  to  look  towards  the 
ocean.  Now  our  rivers  are  beautified  with  large  and  valuable 
vessels,  our  stores  filled  with  merchandise,  and  the  produce  of 
the  country  has  a  ready  market,  and  an  advantageous  price. 
Gold  and  silver,  that  for  a  while  seemed  to  have  retreated  again 
withio-the  bowels  of  the  earth,  have  once  more  risen  into  cirou- 


THE   CRISIS.  181 

lation,  and  every  day  adds  new  strength  to  trade,  commerce  and 
agriculture.  In  a  pamphlet,  written  by  Sir  John  Dalrymple, 
and  dispersed  in  America  in  the  year  1775,  he  asserted,  that, 
two  twenty-gun  ships,  nay,  says  he,  tenders  of  those  ships,  station- 
ed between  Albemarle  sound  and  Chesapeake  bay,  would  shut  up 
the  trade  of  America  for  600  miles.  How  little  did  Sir  John 
Dalrymple  know  of  the  abilities  of  America. 

While  under  the  government  of  Britain,  the  trade  of  this 
country  was  loaded  with  restrictions.  It  was  only  a  few 
foreign  ports  which  we  were  allowed  to  sail  to.  Now  it  is  other- 
wise ;  and  allowing  that  the  quantity  of  trade  is  but  half  what 
it  was  before  the  war,  the  case  must  show  the  vast  advantage 
of  an  open  trade,  because  the  present  quantity  under  her  re- 
strictions could  not  support  itself ;  from  which  I  infer,  that  if 
half  the  quantity  without  the  restrictions  can  bear  itself  up 
nearly,  if  not  quite,  as  well  as  the  whole  when  subject  to  them, 
how  prosperous  must  the  condition  of  America  be  when  the 
whole  shall  return  open  with  all  the  world.  By  the  trade  I  do 
not  mean  the  employment  of  a  merchant  only,  but  the  whole 
interest  and  business  of  the  country  taken  collectively. 

It  is  not  so  much  my  intention,  by  this  publication,  to  pro- 
pose particular  plans  for  raising  money,  as  it  is  to  show  the 
necessity  and  the  advantages  to  be  derived  from  it.  My  prin- 
cipal design  is  to  form  the  disposition  of  the  people  to  the 
measures  which  I  am  fully  persuaded  it  is  their  interest  and 
duty  to  adopt,  and  which  needs  no  other  force  to  accomplish 
them  than  the  force  of  being  felt.  But  as  every  hint  may  be 
useful,  I  shall  throw  out  a  sketch,  and  leave  others  to  make 
such  improvements  upon  it  as  to  the  A  may  appear  reasonable. 
The  annual  sum  wanted  is  two  millions,  and  the  average  rate 
in  which  it  falls,  is  thirteen  shillings  and  fourpence  per  head. 

Suppose,  then,  that  we  raise  half  the  sum  and  sixty  thousand 
pounds  over.  The  average  rate  thereof  will  be  seven  shillings 
per  head. 

In  this  case  we  shall  have  half  the  supply  that  we  want,  and 
an  annual  fund  of  sixty  thousand  pounds  whereon  to  borrow 
the  other  million ;  because  sixty  thousand  pounds  is  the  interest 
of  a  million  at  six  per  cent :  and  if  at  the  end  of  another  year 
we  should  be  obliged,  by  the  continuance  of  the  war,  to  borrow 
another  million,  the  taxes  will  be  increased  to  seven  shillings 
and  sixpence;  and  thus  for  every  million  borrowed,  an  addi- 
tional tax,  equal  to  sixpence  per  head,  must  be  levied. 


182  THE  CRISIS. 

The  sum  to  be  raised  next  year  will  be  one  million  and  sixty 
thousand  pounds;  one  half  of  which  I  would  propose  should  be 
raised  by  duties  on  imported  goods,  and  prize  goods,  and  the 
other  half  by  a  tax  on  landed  property  and  houses,  or  such 
other  means  as  each  state  may  devise. 

But  as  the  duties  on  imports  and  prize  goods  must  be  the 
same  in  all  the  states,  therefore,  the  rate  per  cent.,  or  what 
other  form  the  duty  shall  be  said,  must  be  ascertained  and 
regulated  by  congress,  and  ingrafted  in  that  form  into  the  law 
of  each  state;  and  the  monies  arising  therefrom  carried  into 
the  treasury  of  each  state.  The  duties  to  be  paid  in  gold  or 
silver. 

There  ai-e  many  reasons  why  a  duty  on  imports  is  the  most 
convenient  duty  or  tax  that  can  be  collected ;  one  of  which  is, 
because  the  whole  is  payable  in  a  few  places  in  a  country,  and 
it  likewise  operates  with  the  greatest  ease  and  equality,  because 
as  every  one  pays  in  proportion  to  what  he  consumes,  so  people 
in  general  consume  in  proportion  to  what  they  can  afford,  and 
therefore  the  tax  is  regulated  by  the  abilities  which  every  man 
supposes  himself  to  have,  or  in  other  words,  every  man  becomes 
his  own  assessor,  and  pays  by  a  little  at  a  time,  when  it  suits 
him  to  buy.  Besides  it  is  a  tax  which  people  may  pay  or  let 
alone  by  not  consuming  the  articles ;  and  though  the  alternative 
may  have  no  influence  on  their  conduct,  the  power  of  choosing 
is  an  agreeable  thing  to  the  mind.  For  my  own  part,  it  would 
be  a  satisfaction  to  me,  was  there  a  duty  on  all  sorts  of  liquors 
during  the  war,  as  in  my  idea  of  things  it  would  be  an  addition 
to  the  pleasures  of  society,  to  know,  that  when  the  health  of 
the  army  goes  round,  a  few  drops  from  every  glass  become 
theirs.  How  often  have  I  heard  an  emphatical  wish,  almost 
accompanied  with  a  tear,  "Oh,  that  our  poor  fellows  in  the  field 
Jiad  some  of  this  /"  Why,  then,  need  we  suffer  under  a  fruit- 
less sympathy  when  there  is  a  way  to  enjoy  both  the  wish  and 
the  entertainment  at  once  ? 

But  the  great  national  policy  of  putting  a  duty  upon  imports 
is,  that  'it  either  keeps  the  foreign  trade  in  our  hands,  or  draws 
something  for  the  defence  of  the  country  from  every  foreigner 
who  participates  it  with  us. 

Thus  much  for  the  first  half  of  the  taxes,  and  as  each  state 
will  best  devise  means  to  raise  the  other  half,  I  shall  confine  my 
remarks  to  the  resources  of  this  state. 

The  quota,  then,  of  this  state,  of  one  million  and  sixty  thou- 


THE  CWSIS.  183 

sand  pounds,  will  be  one  hundred  and  thirty-three  thousand  two 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  the  half  of  which  is  sixty-six  thou- 
sand six  hundred  and  twenty -five  pounds;  and  supposing  one- 
fourth  part  of  Pennsylvania  inhabited,  then  a  tax  of  one  bushel 
of  wheat  on  every  twenty  acres  of  land,  one  with  another, 
would  produce  the  sum,  and  all  the  present  taxes  to  cease. 
Whereas,  the  tithes  of  the  bishops  and  clergy  in  England, 
exclusive  of  the  taxes,  are  upwards  of  half  a  bushel  of  wheat 
01  ovp.ry  single  acre  of  land,  good  and  bad,  throughout  the 
nation. 

AH'  the  former  part  of  this  paper,  I  mentioned  the  militia 
fines,  but  reserved  speaking  to  the  matter,  which  I  shall  now 
do.  The  ground  I  shall  now  put  it  upon  is,  that  two  millions 
sterling  a  year  will  support  a  sufficient  army,  and  all  the 
expenses  of  war  and  government,  without  having  recourse  to 
the  inconvenient  method  of  continually  calling  men  from  their 
employments,  which,  of  all  others,  is  the  most  expensive  and 
the  least  substantial.  I  consider  the  revenues  created  by  taxes 
as  the  first  and  principal  thing,  and  fines  only  as  secondary  and 
accidental  things.  It  was  not  the  intention  of  the  militia  law 
to  apply  the  fines  to  any  thing  else  but  the  support  of  the 
militia,  neither  do  they  produce  any  revenue  to  the  state,  yet 
these  fines  amount  to  more  than  all  the  taxes :  for  taking  the 
muster-roll  to  be  sixty  thousand  men,  the  fine  on  forty  thousand 
who  may  not  attend,  will  be  sixty  thousand  pounds  sterling, 
and  those  who  muster,  will  give  up  a  portion  of  time  equal  to 
half  that  sum,  und  if  the  eight  classes  should  be  called  within 
the  year,  and  one-third  turn  out,  the  fine  on  the  remaining  forty 
thousand  would  amount  to  seventy-two  millions  of  dollars, 
beside  the  fifteen  shillings  on  every  hundred  pounds  of  property, 
and  the  charge  of  seven  and  a  half  per  cent,  for  collecting,  in 
certain  instances,  which,  on  the  whole,  would  be  upwards  of 
two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pounds  sterling. 

Now  if  those  very  fines  disable  the  country  from  raising  a 
sufficient  revenue  without  producing  an  equivalent  advantage, 
would  it  not  be  for  the  ease  and  interest  of  all  parties  to  in- 
crease the  revenue,  in  the  manner  I  have  proposed,  or  any 
better,  if  a  better  can  be  devised,  and  cease  the  operation  of  the 
fines  1  I  would  still  keep  the  militia  as  an  organized  body  of 
men,  and  should  there  be  a  real  necessity  to  call  them  forth,  pay 
them  out  of  the  proper  revenues  of  the  state,  and  increase  the 
taxes  a  third  or  fourth  per  cent,  on  those  who  do  not  attend. 


184  THE  CRI8IS 

My  limits  will  not  allow  me  to  go  further  into  this  matter, 
which  I  shall  therefore  close  with  this  remark  ;  that  tines  are, 
of  all  modes  of  revenue,  the  most  unsuited  to  the  minds  of  a 
free  country.  When  a  man  pays  a  tax,  he  knows  that  the 
public  necessity  require  it,  and  therefore  feels  a  pride  in  dis- 
charging his  duty;  but  a  fine  seems  an  atonement  for  neglect 
of  duty,  and  of  consequence  is  paid  with  discredit,  and  fre- 
quently levied  with  severity. 

I  have  now  only  one  subject  more  to  speak  of,  with  which  I 
shall  conclude,  which  is,  the  resolve  of  congress  of  the  18th  of 
March  last,  for  taking  up  and  funding  the  present  currency  at 
forty  for  one,  and  issuing  new  money  in  its  stead. 

Everyone  knows  that  I  am  not  the  flatterer  of  congress,  but 
in  this  instance  they  are  right;  and  if  that  measure  is  supported, 
the  currency  will  acquire  a  value,  which,  without  it,  it  will  not. 
But  this  is  not  all :  it  will  give  relief  to  the  finances  until  such 
time  as  they  can  be  properly  arranged,  and  savethe  country  from 
being  immediately  double  taxed  under  the  present  mode.  In 
short,  support  that  measure,  and  it  will  support  you. 

I  have  now  waded  through  a  tedious  course  of  difficult  busi- 
ness, and  over  an  untrodden  path.  The  subject,  on  every  point 
in  which  it  could  be  viewed,  was  entangled  with  perplexities, 
and  enveloped  in  obscurity,  yet  such  are  the  resources  of  Am- 
erica, that  she  wants  nothing  but  system  to  ensure  success. 


Oct.  6,  1780. 

NUMBER  XL 
ON  THE  KING  OF  ENGLAND'S  SPLEC3. 

OP  all  the  innocent  passions  which  actuate  the  human  mind, 
there  is  none  more  universally  prevalent  than  curiosity.  It 
reaches  all  mankind,  and  in  matters  which  concern  us,  or  con- 
cern us  not,  it  alike  provokes  in  us  a  desire  to  know  them. 

Although  the  situation  of  America,  superior  to  every  effort 
to  enslave  her,  and  daily  rising  to  importance  and  opulence, 
hath  placed  her  above  the  region  of  anxiety,  it  has  still  left  her 
within  the  circle  of  curiosity ;  and  her  fancy  to  see  the  speech  of 
a  man  who  had  proudly  threatened  to  bring  her  to  his  feet,  was 
visibly  marked  with  thrt  tranquil  confidence  which  caved  no- 


THE  CRISIS.  185 

thing  a'uout  its  contents.     It  was  inquired  after  with  a  smile, 
read  with  a  laugh,  and  dismissed  wuh  disdain. 

But,  as  justice  is  due,  even  to  an  enemy,  it  is  right  to  say, 
that  the  speech  is  as  well  managed  as  the  embarrassed  condition 
of  their  affairs  could  well  admit  of;  and  though  hardly  a  line  of 
it  is  true,  except  the  mournful  story  of  Cornwallis,  it  may  serve 
to  amuse  the  deluded  commons  and  people  of  England,  for 
whom  it  was  calculated. 

"The  war,"  says  the  speech,  "is  still  unhappily  prolonged  by 
chat  restless  ambition  which  first  excited  our  enemies  to  com- 
mence it,  and  which  still  continues  to  disappoint  my  earnest 
wishes  and  diligent  exertions  to  restore  the  public  tranquility." 
How  easy  it  is  to  abuse  truth  and  language,  when  men,  by 
habitual  wickedness,  have  learned  to  set  justice  at  defiance. 
That  the  very  man  who  begun  the  war,  who  with  the  most  sullen 
insolence  refused  to  answer,  and  even  to  hear  the  humblest  of 
all  petitions,  who  hath  encouraged  his  officers  and  his  army  in 
the  most  savage  cruelties,  and  the  most  scandalous  plunderings, 
who  hath  stirred  up  the  Indians  on  one  side,  and  the  negroes 
on  the  other,  and  invoked  every  aid  of  hell  in  his  behalf,  should 
now,  with  an  affected  air  of  pity,  turn  the  tables  from  himself, 
and  charge  to  another  the  wickedness  that  is  his  own,  can  only 
be  equalled  by  the  baseness  of  the  heart  that  spoke  it. 

To  be  nobly  wrong  is  more  manly  than  to  be  meanly  right,  is  an 
expression  I  once  used  on  a  former  occasion,  and  it  is  equally 
applicable  now.  We  feel  something  like  respect  for  consistency 
even  in  error.  We  lament  the  virtue  that  is  debauched  into  a 
vice,  but  the  vice  that  effects  a  virtue  becomes  the  more  detest- 
able :  and  amongst  the  various  assumptions  of  character  which 
hypocrisy  has  taught,  and  men  have  practised,  there  is  none 
that  rises  a  higher  relish  of  disgust,  than  to  see  disappointed 
inveteracy  twisting  itself,  by  the  most  visible  falsehoods,  into  an 
appearance  of  piety  which  it  has  no  pretensions  to. 

"But  I  should  not,"  continues  the  speech,  "answer  the  trust 
committed  to  the  sovereign  of  a  free  people,  nor  make  a  suit- 
able return  to  my  subjects  for  their  constant,  zealous,  and  affec- 
tionate attachment  to  my  person,  family  and  government,  if  I 
consented  to  sacrifice,  either  to  my  own  desire  of  peace,  or  to 
their  temporary  ease  and  relief,  those  essential  rights  and  per- 
mament  interests,  upon  the  maintenance  and  preservation  of 
which,  the  fnture  strength  and  security  of  thig  country  must 
principally  depend." 


186  THE  CRISIS. 

That  the  man  whose  ignorance  and  obstinacy  first  involved 
and  still  continues  the  nation  in  the  most  hopeless  and  expen- 
sive of  all  wars,  should  now  meanly  flatter  them  with  the  name 
of  a  free  people,  and  make  a  merit  of  his  crime,  under  the  dis- 
guise of  their  essential  rights  and  permanent  interests,  is  some- 
thing which  disgraces  even  the  character  of  perverseness.  Is 
he  afraid  they  will  send  him  to  Hanover,  or  what  does  he  fear  ? 
Why  is  the  sycophant  thus  added  to  the  hypocrite,  and  the  man 
who  pretends  to  govern,  sunk  into  the  humble  and  submissive 
memorialist  1 

What  those  essential  rights  and  permanent  interests  are,  on 
which  the  future  strength  and  security  of  England  must  princi- 
pally depend,  are  not  so  much  as  alluded  to.  They  are  words 
which  impress  nothing  but  the  ear,  and  are  calculated  only  for 
the  sound. 

But  if  they  have  any  reference  to  America,  then  do  they 
amount  to  the  disgraceful  confession,  that  England,  who  once 
assumed  to  be  her  protectress,  has  now  become  her  dependent. 
The  British  king  and  ministry  are  constantly  holding  up  the 
vast  importance  which  America  is  of  to  England,  in  order  to 
allure  the  nation  to  carry  on  the  war:  now,  whatever  ground 
there  is  for  this  idea,  it  ought  to  have  operated  as  a  reason  for 
not  beginning  it:  and,  therefore,  they  support  their  present 
measures  to  their  own  disgrace,  because  the  arguments  which 
they  now  use,  are  a  direct  reflection  on  their  former  policy. 

"The  favorable  appearance  of  affairs,"  continues  the  speech, 
"in  the  East  Indies,  and  the  safe  arrival  of  the  numerous  com 
mercial  fleets  of  my  kingdom,  must  have  given  you  satisfaction.' 

That  things  are  not  quite  so  bad  everywhere  as  in  America 
may  be  some  cause  of  consolation,  but  can  be  none  for  triumph. 
One  broken  leg  is  better  than  two,  but  still  it  is  not  a  source  of 
joy:  and  let  the  appearance  of  affairs  in  the  East  Indies  bo 
ever  so  favourable,  they  are  nevertheless  worse  than  at  first, 
without  a  prospect  of  their  ever  being  better.  But  the  mourn- 
ful story  of  C  ^rnwallis  was  yet  to  be  told,  and  it  was  necessary 
to  give  it  tlv  softest  introduction  possible. 

"But  in  the  course  of  this  year,"  continues  the  speech,  "my 
assiduous  endeavors  to  guard  the  extensive  dominions  of  my 
crown  have  not  been  attended  with  success  equal  to  the  justice 
and  uprightness  of  my  views." — What  justice  and  uprightness 
there  was  in  beginning  a  war  with  America,  the  world  will 
judge  of,  and  the  unequalled  barbarity  with  which  it  ha  been 


THE  CRISia  1S7 

conducted,  is  not  to  be  worn  from  the  memory  by  the  oant  of 
snivelling  hypocrisy. 

"And  it  is  with  great  concern  that  I  inform  you  that  the 
events  of  war  have  been  very  unfortunate  to  my  arms  in  Vir- 
ginia, having  ended  in  the  loss  of  my  forces  in  that  province." — 
And  our  concern  is  that  they  are  not  all  served  in  the  same 
manner. 

"No  endeavors  have  been  wanting  on  my  part,"  says  the 
speech,  "to  extinguish  that  spirit  of  rebellion  which  our  ene- 
mies have  found  means  to  foment  and  maintain  in  the  colonies : 
and  to  restore  to  my  deluded  subjects  in  America  that  happy 
and  prosperous  condition  which  they  formerly  derived  from  a 
due  obedience  to  the  laws." 

The  expression  of  deluded  subjects  is  become  so  hacknied  and 
contemptible,  and  the  more  so  when  we  see  them  making  prisoners 
of  whole  armies  at  a  time,  that  the  pride  of  not  being  laughed  at 
would  induce  a  man  of  common  sense  to  leave  it  off.  But  the 
most  offensive  falsehood  in  the  paragraph,  is  the  attributing  the 
prosperity  of  America  to  a  wrong  cause.  It  was  the  unre- 
mitted  industry  of  the  settlers  and  their  descendants,  the  hard 
labor  and  toil  of  persevering  fortitude,  that  were  the  true  causes 
of  the  prosperity  of  America.  The  former  tyranny  of  England 
served  to  people  it,  and  the  virtue  of  the  adventurers  to  im- 
prove it.  Ask  the  man,  who,  with  his  axe  hath  clear- 1  a  way 
in  the  wilderness,  and  who  possesses  an  estate,  —^f  j.de  him 
rich,  and  he  will  tell  you  the  labor  of  his  hanus,  the  sweat  of 
his  brow,  and  the  blessing  of  heaven.  Let  Britain  but  leave 
America  to  herself  and  she  asks  no  more.  She  has  risen  into 
greatness  without  the  knowledge  and  against  the  will  of  Eng- 
land, and  has  a  right  to  the  unmolested  enjoyment  of  her  own 
created  wealth. 

"  I  will  order,"  says  the  speech,  "  the  estimates  of  the  ensuing 
year  to  be  laid  before  you.  I  rely  on  your  wisdom  and  public 
spirit  for  such  supplies  as  the  circumstances  of  our  affairs  shall 
be  found  to  require.  Among  the  many  ill  consequences  which 
attended  the  continuation  of  the  present  war,  I  most  sincerely 
regret  the  additional  burdens  which  k  must  unavoidably  bring 
upon  my  faithful  subjects." 

It  is  strange  that  a  nation  must  run  through  such  a  labyrinth 
of  trouble,  and  expend  such  a  mass  of  wealth  to  gain  the 
wisdom  which  an  hour's  reflection  might  have  taught.  The 
final  superiority  of  America  over  every  attempt  that  an  island 


188  THE   CRISIS. 

might  make  to  conquer  her,  was  as  naturally  marked  in  the 
constitution  of  things,  as  the  future  ability  of  a  giant  over  a 
dwarf  is  delineated  in  his  features  while  an  infant.  How  far 
providence,  to  accomplish  purposes  which  no  human  wisdom 
could  foresee,  permitted  such  extraordinary  errors,  is  still  a 
secret  in  the  womb  of  time,  and  must  remain  so  tili  futurity 
shall  give  it  birth. 

"In  the  prosecution  of  this  great  and  important  contest," 
says  the  speech,  "  in  which  we  are  engaged,  I  retain  a  firm  con- 
fidence in  the  protection  of  divine  providence  and  a  perfect  con- 
viction in  the  justice  of  my  cause,  and  I  have  no  doubt,  but, 
that  by  the  concurrence  and  support  of  my  parliament,  by  the 
valor  of  my  fleets  and  armies,  and  by  a  vigorous,  animated,  and 
united  exertion  of  the  faculties  and  resources  of  my  people,  I 
shall  be  enabled  to  restore  the  blessings  of  a  safe  and  honorable 
peace  to  all  my  dominions." 

The  king  of  England  is  one  of  the  readiest  believers  in  the 
world.  In  the  beginning  of  the  contest  he  passed  an  act  to 
put  America  out  of  the  protection  of  the  crown  of  England, 
and  though  providence,  for  seven  years  together,  hath  put  him 
out  of  her  protection,  still  the  man  has  no  doubt.  Like 
Pharaoh  on  the  edge  of  the  Red  sea,  he  sees  not  the  plunge  he 
is  making,  and  precipitately  drives  across  the  flood  that  is 
closing  over  his  head. 

I  think  it  a  reasonable  supposition,  that  this  part  of  the 
speech  was  composed  before  the  arrival  of  the  news  of  the 
capture  of  Cornwallis :  for  it  certainly  has  no  relation  to  their 
condition  at  the  time  it  was  spoken.  But,  be  this  at  it  may, 
it  is  nothing  to  us.  Our  line  is  fixed.  Our  lot  is  cast;  and 
America,  the  child  of  fate,  is  arriving  at  maturity.  We  have 
nothing  to  do  but  by  a  spirited  and  quick  exertion,  to  stand 
prepared  for  war  or  peace.  Too  great  to  yield,  and  too  nobk 
to  insult;  superior  to  misfortune,  and  generous  in  success,  let 
us  untaintedly  preserve  the  character  which  we  have  gained, 
and  show  the  future  ages  an  example  of  unequalled  magnan- 
imity. There  is  something  in  the  cause  and  consequence  ol 
America  that  has  drawn  on  her  the  attention  of  all  mankind. 
The  world  has  seen  her  brave.  Her  love  of  liberty ;  her  ardor 
in  supporting  it;  the  justice  of  her  claims,  and  the  constancy  of 
her  fortitude  has  won  her  the  esteem  of  Europe,  and  attached 
to  her  interest  the  first  power  in  that  country. 

Her  situation  now  is  such,  that  to  whatever  point,  past, 


THE   CRISIS.  1S9 

present  or  to  come,  she  casts  her  eyes,  new  matter  rises  to  con- 
vince her  that  she  is  right.  In  her  conduct  towards  her  enemy, 
no  reproachful  sentiment  lurks  in  secret.  No  sense  of  injustice 
is  left  upon  the  mind.  Untainted  with  ambition,  and  a  stranger 
to  revenge,  her  progress  hath  been  marked  by  providence,  and 
she,  in  every  stage  of  the  conflict,  has  blest  her  with  success. 

But  let  not  America  wrap  herself  up  in  delusive  hope  and 
suppose  the  business  done.  The  least  remissness  in  preparation, 
the  least  relaxation  in  execution,  will  only  serve  to  prolong  the 
war,  and  increase  expenses.  If  our  enemies  can  draw  consola- 
tion from  misfortune,  and  exert  themselves  upon  despair,  how 
much  more  ought  we,  who  are  to  win  a  continent  by  the  con- 
quest, and  have  already  an  earnest  of  success  1 

Having,  in  the  preceding  part,  made  my  remarks  on  the 
several  matters  which  the  speech  contains,  I  shall  now  make 
my  remarks  on  what  it  does  not  contain. 

There  is  not  a  syllable  in  it  respecting  alliances.  Either  the 
injustice  of  Britain  is  too  glarhig,  or  her  condition  too  desper- 
ate, or  both,  for  any  neighboring  power  to  come  to  her  support. 
In  the  beginning  of  the  conquest,  when  she  had  only  America 
to  contend  with,  she  hired  assistance  from  Hesse,  and  other 
smaller  states  of  Germany,  and  for  nearly  three  years  did 
America,  young,  raw,  undisciplined  and  unprovided,  stand 
against  the  power  of  Britain,  aided  by  twenty  thousand  foreign 
troops,  and  made  a  complete  conquest  of  one  entire  army.  The 
remembrance  of  those  things  ought  to  inspire  us  with  confidence 
and  greatness  of  mind,  and  carry  us  through  every  remaining 
difficulty  with  content  and  cheerfulness.  What  are  the  little 
sufferings  of  the  present  day,  compared  with  the  hardships  that 
are  past?  There  was  a  time  when  we  had  neither  house  nor 
home  in  safety;  when  every  hour  was  the  hour  of  alarm  and 
danger;  when  the  mind,  tortured  with  anxiety,  knew  no  re- 
pose, and  everything  but  hope  and  fortitude  was  bidding  us 
farewell. 

It  is  of  use  to  look  back  upon  these  things;  to  call  to  mind 
the  times  of  trouble  and  the  scenes  of  complicated  anguish  that 
are  past  and  gone.  Then  every  expense  was  cheap,  compared 
with  the  dread  of  conquest  and  the  misery  of  submission.  \Ve 
did  not  stand  debating  upon  trifles,  or  contending  about  the 
necessary  and  unad voidable  charges  of  defence.  Everyone  bore 
his  lot  of  suffering,  and  looked  forward  to  happier  days,  and 
acenea  of  rest. 


190  THE   CRISIS. 

Perhaps  one  of  the  greatest  dangers  which  any  country  can 
be  exposed  to,  arises  from  a  kind  of  trifling  which  sometimes 
steals  upon  the  mind,  when  it  supposes  the  danger  past;  and 
this  unsafe  situation  marks  at  this  time  the  peculiar  crisis  of 
America.  What  would  she  once  have  given  to  have  known 
that  her  condition  at  this  day  should  be  what  it  is  now  1  And 
yet  we  do  not  seem  to  place  a  proper  value  upon  it,  nor  vigor- 
ously pursue  the  necessary  measures  to  secure  it.  We  know 
that  we  cannot  be  defended,  nor  yet  defend  ourselves,  without 
trouble  and  expense.  We  have  no  right  to  expect  it;  neither 
ought  we  to  look  for  it.  We  are  a  people,  who,  in  our  situation, 
differ  from  all  the  world.  We  form  one  common  floor  of  public 
good,  and,  whatever  is  our  charge,  it  is  paid  for  our  own  interest 
and  upon  our  own  aceount. 

Misfortune  and  experience  have  now  taught  us  system  and 
method;  and  the  arrangements  for  carrying  on  the  war  are 
reduced  to  rule  and  order.  The  quotas  of  the  several  states  are 
ascertained,  and  I  intend  in  a  future  publication  to  show  what 
they  are,  and  the  necessity  as  well  as  the  advantages  of  vigor- 
ously providing  them. 

In  the  meantime,  I  shall  conclude  this  paper  with  an  instance 
of  British  clemency,  from  Smollett's  "  History  of  England,"  vol. 
xi.  p.  239,  printed  in  London.  It  will  serve  to  show  how  dis- 
mal the  situation  of  a  conquered  people  is,  and  that  the  only 
security  is  an  effectual  defence. 

We  all  know  that  the  Stuart  family  and  the  house  of  Hanover 
opposed  each  other  for  the  crown  of  England.  The  Stuart 
family  stood  first  in  the  line  of  succession,  but  the  other  was 
the  most  successful. 

In  July,  1745,  Charles,  the  son  of  the  exiled  king,  landed  in 
Scotland,  collected  a  small  force,  at  no  time  exaeeding  five  or 
six  thousand  men,  and  made  some  attempts  to  re-establish  his 
claim.  The  late  duke  of  Cumberland,  uncle  to  the  present  king 
of  England,  was  sent  against  him,  and  on  the  16th  of  April, 
following,  Charles  was  totally  defeated  at  Culloden,  in  Scotland. 
Success  and  power  are  the  only  situations  in  which  clemency 
can  be  shown,  and  those  who  are  cruel  because  they  are  victori- 
ous, can  with  the  same  facility  act  any  other  degenerate  char- 
acter. 

"  Immediately  after  the  decisive  action  at  Culloden,the  duke 
of  Cumberland  took  possession  of  Inverness;  where  six  and 
thirty  deserters,  convicted  by  a  court  martial,  were  ordered  to 


THE   CRISia  191 

be  executed:  then  he  detached  several  parties  to  ravage  the 
country.  One  of  these  apprehended  the  Lady  Mackintosh,  who 
was  sent  prisoner  to  Inverness,  plundered  her  house,  and  drove 
away  her  cattle,  though  her  husband  was  actually  in  the  service 
of  the  government.  The  castle  of  Lord  Lovat  was  destroyed. 
The  French  prisoners  were  sent  to  Carlisle  and  Penrith :  Kil- 
marnock,  Balmerino,  Cromartie,  and  his  son,  the  lord  Macleod, 
were  conveyed  by  sea  to  London ;  and  those  of  an  inferior  rank 
were  confined  in  different  prisons.  The  marquis  of  Tullibar- 
dine,  together  with  a  brother  of  the  earl  of  Dunmore  and  Mur- 
ray, the  pretender's  secretary,  were  seized  and  transported  to 
the  Tower  of  London,  to  which  the  earl  of  Traquaire  had  been 
committed  on  suspicion;  and  the  eldest  son  of  lord  Lovat  was 
imprisoned  in  the  castle  of  Edinburgh.  In  a  word,  all  the  jails 
in  Great  Britain,  from  the  capital,  northwards,  were  filled  with 
those  unfortunate  captives;  and  great  numbers  of  them  were 
crowded  together  in  the  holds  of  ships,  where  they  perished  in 
the  most  deplorable  manner,  for  want  of  air  and  exercise. 
Some  rebel  chiefs  escaped  in  two  French  frigates  that  arrived 
on  the  coast  of  Lochaber  about  the  end  of  April,  and  engaged 
three  vessels  belonging  to  his  Britannic  majesty,  which  they 
obliged  to  retire.  Others  embarked  on  board  a  ship  on  the 
coast  of  Buchan,  and  were  conveyed  to  Norway,  from  whence 
they  travelled  to  Sweden.  In  the  month  of  May,  the  duke  of 
Cumberland  advanced  with  the  army  into  the  Highlands,  as  far 
as  Fort  Augustus,  where  he  encamped;  and  sent  off  detachments 
on  all  hands,  to  hunt  down  the  fugitives,  and  lay  waste  the 
country  with  fire  and  sword.  The  castles  of  Glengarry  and 
Lochiel  were  plundered  and  burned;  every  house,  hut  or  habi- 
tation, met  with  the  same  fate,  without  distinction ;  and  all  the 
cattle  and  provisions  were  carried  off;  the  men  were  either  shot 
upon  the  mountains,  like  wild  beasts,  or  put  to  death  in  cold 
blood,  without  form  of  trial;  the  women,  after  having  seen  their 
husbands  and  fathers  murdered,  were  subjected  to  brutal  viola- 
tion, and  then  turned  out  naked,  with  their  children  to  starve 
on  the  barren  heaths.  One  whole  family  was  enclosed  in  a  barn, 
and  consumed  to  ashes.  Those  ministers  of  vengeance  were  so 
alert  in  the  execution  of  their  office,  that  in  a  few  days  there 
was  neither  house,  cottage,  man,  nor  beast,  to  be  seen  within 
the  compass  of  fifty  miles  ;  all  was  ruin,  silence,  and  desolation." 
I  have  here  presented  the  reader  with  one  of  the  most 
shocking  instances  of  cruelty  ever  practised,  and  I  leave  it  to 


192  THE  CRISIS. 

rest  on  his  mind,  that  he  may  be  fully  impressed  with  a  sense 
of  the  destruction  he  has  escaped,  in  case  Britain  had  conquered 
America :  and  likewise,  that  he  may  see  and  feel  the  necessity, 
as  well  for  his  own  personal  safety,  as  for  the  honor,  the 
interest,  and  happiness  of  the  whole  community,  to  omit  01 
delay  no  one  preparation  necessary  to  secure  the  ground  which 
we  so  happily  stand  upon. 

TO  THE  PEOPLE  OF  AMERICA. 

On  the  expenses,  arrangements  and  disbursements  for  carrying  on  tht 
war,  and  finishing  it  with  honor  and  advantage. 

WHEN  any  necessity  or  occasion  has  pointed  out  the  conveni- 
ence of  addressing  the  public,  I  have  never  made  it  a  consider- 
ation whether  the  subject  was  popular  or  unpopular,  but 
whether  it  was  right  or  wrong;  for  that  which  is  right  will  be- 
come popular,  and  that  which  is  wrong,  though  by  mistake  it 
may  obtain  the  cry  or  fashion  of  the  day,  will  soon  lose  the 
power  of  delusion,  and  sink  into  disesteem. 

A  remarkable  instance  of  this  happened  in  the  case  of  Silas 
Deane;  and  I  mention  this  circumstance  with  the  greater  ease, 
because  the  poison  of  his  hypocrisy  spread  over  the  whole 
country,  and  every  man,  almost  without  exception,  thought  me 
wrong  in  opposing  him.  The  best  friends  I  then  had,  except 
Mr.  Laurens,  stood  at  a  distance,  and  this  tribute,  which  is  due 
to  his  constancy,  I  pay  to  him  with  respect,  and  that  t.lu- 
readier,  because  he  is  not  here  to  hear  it.  If  it  reaches  him  in 
his  imprisonment,  it  will  afford  him  an  agreeable  reflection. 

"As  he  rose  like  a  rocket,  he  would  fall  like  a  stick,"  is  a 
metaphor  which  I  applied  to  Mr.  Deane,  in  the  first  piece  which 
I  published  respecting  him,  and  he  has  exactly  fulfilled  tho 
description.  The  credit  he  so  unjustly  obtained  from  the 
public,  he  lost  in  almost  as  short  a  time.  The  delusion  perished 
as  it  fell,  and  he  soon  saw  himself  stripped  of  popular  support. 
His  more  intimate  acquaintances  began  to  doubt,  and  to  desert 
him  long  before  he  left  America,  and  at  his  departure,  he  saw 
himself  the  object  of  general  suspicion.  When  he  arrived  in 
France,  he  endeavored  to  effect  by  treason  what  he  had  failed 
to  accomplish  by  fraud.  His  plans,  schemes  and  projects, 
together  with  his  expectation  of  being  sent  to  Holland  to 
negotiate  a  loan  of  money,  had  all  miscarried.  He  then  begflv 
traducing  and  accusing  America  of  every  crime  which  could 


THE   CRISIS. 

injure  her  reputation.  "  That  she  was  a  ruined  country ;  that 
she  only  meant  to  make  a  tool  of  France,  to  get  what  money 
she  could  out  of  her,  and  then  to  leave  her,  and  accommodate  with 
Britain."  Of  all  which  and  much  more,  Colonel  Laurens  and 
myself  when  in  France,  informed  Dr.  Franklin,  who  had  not 
before  heard  of  it.  And  to  complete  the  character  of  a  traitor, 
he  has,  by  letters  to  this  country  since,  some  of  which,  in  his 
own  handwriting,  are  now  in  the  possession  of  congress,  used 
every  expression  and  argument  in  his  power,  to  injure  the 
reputation  of  France,  and  to  advise  America  to  renounce  her 
alliance,  and  surrender  up  her  independence.*  Thus  in  France 
he  abuses  America,  and  in  his  letters  to  America  he  abuses 
France;  and  is  endeavoring  to  create  disunion  between  the  two 
countries,  by  the  same  arts  of  double-dealing  by  which  he 
caused  dissentions  among  the  commissioners  in  Paris,  and  dis- 
tractions in  America.  But  his  life  has  been  fraud,  and  his 
character  is  that  of  a  plodding,  plotting,  cringing  mercenary, 
capable  of  any  disguise  that  suited  his  purpose.  His  final 
detection  has  very  happily  cleared  up  those  mistakes,  and 
removed  that  uneasiness,  which  his  unprincipled  conduct 
occasioned.  Everyone  now  sees  him  in  the  same  light;  for 
towards  friends  or  enemies  he  acted  with  the  same  deception 
and  injustice,  and  his  name,  like  that  of  Arnold,  ought  now  to 
be  forgotten  among  us.  As  this  is  the  first  time  that  I  have 
mentioned  him  since  my  return  from  France,  it  is  my  intention 
that  it  shall  be  the  last.  From  this  digression,  which  for 
several  reasons  I  thought  necessary  to  give,  I  now  proceed  to 
the  purport  of  my  address. 

I  consider  the  war  of  America  against  Britain  as  the  coun- 
try's war,  the  public's  war,  or  the  war  of  the  people  in  their 
own  behalf,  for  the  security  of  their  natural  rights,  and  the 
protection  of  their  own  property.  It  is  not  the  war  of  congress, 
the  war  of  the  assemblies,  or  the  war  of  the  government  in  any 
line  whatever.  The  country  first,  by  a  mutual  compact, 
resolved  to  defend  their  rights  and  maintain  their  independence, 
at  the  hazard  of  their  lives  and  fortunes,  they  elected  their 

•  Mr.  William  Marshall,  of  this  city,  formerly  a  pilot,  who  had  been 
taken  at  sea  and  carried  to  England,  and  got  from  thence  to  France,  brought 
over  letters  from  Mr.  Deane  to  America,  one  of  which  was  directed  to 
"Robert  Morris,  Esq."  Mr.  Morris  sent  it  unopened  to  congress,  and 
advised  Mr.  Marshall  to  deliver  the  others  there,  which  he  did.  The  letters 
were  of  the  same  purport  with  those  which  have  been  already  published 
uader  the  signature  of  S.  Deane,  to  which  they  had  frequent  reference. 
13 


194  THE  CRISIS. 

representatives,  by  whom  they  appointed  their  members  of  con- 
gress, and  said,  act  you  for  us,  and  we  will  support  you.  This 
is  the  true  ground  and  principle  of  the  war  on  the  part  of 
America,  and,  cpnsequently,  there  remains  nothing  to  do,  but 
for  everyone  to  fulfil  his  obligation. 

It  was  next  to  impossible  that  a  new  country,  engaged  in  a 
new  undertaking,  could  set  off  systematically  right  at  first.  She 
saw  not  the  extent  of  the  struggle  that  she  was  envoi ved  in, 
neither  could  she  avoid  the  beginning.  She  supposed  every  step 
that  she  took,  and  every  resolution  which  she  formed,  would 
bring  her  enemy  to  reason  and  close  the  contest  Those  failing, 
she  was  forced  into  new  measures:  and  these,  like  the  forme/, 
being  fitted  to  her  expectations,  and  failing  in  their  turn,  left 
her  continually  unprovided,  and  without  system.  The  enemy, 
likewise,  was  induced  to  prosecute  the  war,  from  the  temporary 
expedients  we  adopted  for  carrying  it  on.  We  are  continually 
expecting  to  see  their  credit  exhausted,  and  they  were  looking 
to  see  our  currency  fail;  and  thus,  between  their  watching  us, 
and  we  them,  the  hopes  of  both  have  been  deceived,  and  the 
childishness  of  the  expectation  has  served  to  increase  the  ex- 
pense. 

Yet,  who  through  this  wilderness  of  error,  has  been  to  blame  ? 
Where  is  the  man  who  can  say  the  fault,  in  part,  has  not  been 
his?  They  were  the  natural,  unavoidable  errors  of  the  day. 
They  were  the  errors  of  a  whole  country,  which  nothing  but 
experience  could  detect  and  time  remove.  Neither  could  the 
circumstances  of  America  admit  of  system,  till  either  the  paper 
currency  was  fixed  or  laid  aside.  No  calculation  of  a  finance 
could  be  made  on  medium  failing  without  reason,  and  fluctua- 
ting without  rule. 

But  there  is  one  error  which  might  have  been  prevented  and 
was  not;  and  as  it  is  not  my  custom  to  flatter,  but  to  serve  man- 
kind, I  will  speak  it  freely.  It  certainly  was  the  duty  of  every 
assembly  on  the  continent  to  have  known,  at  all  times,  what 
was  the  condition  of  its  treasury,  and  to  have  ascertained  at 
every  period  of  depreciation,  how  much  the  real  worth  of  the 
taxes  fell  short  of  their  nominal  value.  This  knowledge,  which 
might  have  been  easily  gained,  in  the  time  of  it,  would  have 
enabled  them  to  have  kept  their  constituents  well  informed, 
and  this  is  one  of  the  greatest  duties  of  representation.  They 
ought  to  have  studied  and  calculated  the  expenses  of  the  war, 
the  quota  of  each  state,  and  the  consequent  proportion  that 


THE  CRISIS.  195 

would  fall  on  each  man's  property  for  his  defence;  and  this 
must  easily  have  shown  to  them,  that  a  tax  of  one  hundred 
pounds  could  not  be  paid  by  a  bushel  of  apples  or  an  hundred 
of  flour,  which  was  often  the  case  two  or  three  years  ago.  But 
instead  of  this,  which  would  have  been  plain  and  upright  deal- 
ing, the  little  line  of  temporary  popularity,  the  feather  of  an 
hour's  duration,  was  too  much  pursued;  and  in  this. involved  con- 
dition of  things,  every  state,  for  the  want  of  a  little  thinking, 
or  a  little  information,  supposed  that  it  supported  the  whole 
expenses  of  the  war,  when  in  fact  it  fell,  by  the  time  the  tax 
was  levied  and  collected,  above  three-fourths  short  of  its  own 
quota. 

Impressed  with  a  sense  of  the  danger  to  which  the  country 
was  exposed  by  this  lax  method  of  doing  business,  and  the  pre- 
vailing errors  of  the  day,  I  published,  last  October  was  a  twelve- 
month, the  Crisis  No.  X.,  on  the  revenues  of  America,  and  the 
yearly  expense  of  carrying  on  the  war.  My  estimation  of  the 
latter,  together  with  the  civil  list  of  congress  and  the  civil  list 
of  the  several  states,  was  two  million  pounds  sterling,  which  is 
very  nearly  nine  millions  of  dollars. 

Since  that  time,  congress  have  gone  into  a  calculation,  and 
have  estimated  the  expenses  of  the  war  department  and  the 
civil  list  of  congress  (exclusive  of  the  civil  list  of  the  several 
governments)  at  eight  millions  of  dollars;  and  as  the  remaining 
million  will  be  fully  sufficient  for  the  civil  list  of  the  several 
states,  the  two  calculations  are  exceedingly  near  each  other. 

The  sum  of  eight  millions  of  dollars  they  have  called  upon 
the  states  to  furnish,  and  their  quotas  are  as  follows,  which  I 
shall  perface  with  the  resolution  itself. 

"By  the  United  States  in  congress  assembled. 

"October  SO,  1781. 

"Resolved,  That  the  respective  states  he  called  upon  to  fur' 

.sh  the  treasury  of  the  United   States  with  their  quotas  of 

eight  millions  of  dollars,  for  the  war  department  and  civil  list 

for  the  ensuing  year,  to  be  paid  quarterly,  in  equal  proportions, 

the  first  payment  to  be  made  on  the  first  day  of  April  next. 

"Resolved,  That  a  committee  consisting  of  a  member  from  each 
state,  be  appointed  to  apportion  to  the  several  states  the  quota 
of  the  above  sum. 

"  November  2nd.  The  committee  appointed  to  ascertain  the 
proportions  of  the  several  states  of  the  moneys  to  be  raised  for 


196  THE  CRISIS. 

the  expenses  of  the  ensuing  year,  report  the  following  reso- 
lutions: 

"  That  the  sum  of  eight  millions  of  dollars,  as  required  to  be 
raised  by  the  resolutions  of  the  30th  of  October  last,  be  paid 
by  the  states  in  the  following  proportion: 

New  Hampshire $373,598 

Massachusetts I,:>ii7,"'96 

Rhode  Island L'lri,»«4 

Connecticut 747,1% 

New  York 3"",ofl8 

New  Jersey 485,<;79 

Pennsylvania 1,120,794 

Delaware 1 12, 085 

Maryland {);W,U96 

Virginia 1,307,594 

North  Carolina t>22,t>77 

South  Carolina 373,598 

Georgia 'J4.905 


Total 38,000,000 

"Resolved,  That  it  be  recommended  to  the  several  states,  to 
pay  taxes  for  raising  their  quotas  of  money  for  the  United 
States,  separate  from  those  laid  for  their  own  particular  use." 

On  these  resolutions  I  shall  offer  several  remarks. 

1st,    On  the  sum  itself,  and  the  ability  of  the  country. 

2nd,  On  the  several  quotas,  and  the  nature  of  a  union. 
And, 

3rd,    On  the  manner  of  collection  and  expenditure. 

1st,  On  the  sum  itself  and  the  ability  of  the  country.  As 
I  know  my  own  calculation  is  as  low  as  possible,  and  as  the 
sum  called  for  by  congress,  according  to  their  calculation, 
agrees  very  nearly  therewith,  I  am  sensible  it  cannot  possibly 
be  lower.  Neither  can  it  be  done  for  that,  unless  there  is 
ready  money  to  go  to  market  with;  and  even  in  that  case,  it  is 
only  by  the  utmost  management  and  economy  that  it  can  be 
made  to  do. 

By  the  accounts  which  were  laid  before  the  British  parlia- 
ment last  spring,  it  appeared  that  the  charge  of  only  subsisting, 
that  is,  feeding  their  army  in  America,  cost  annually  four 
million  pounds  sterling,  which  is  very  nearly  eighteen  millions 
of  dollars.  Now  if  for  eight  millions,  we  can  feed,  clothe,  arm, 
provide  for,  and  pay  an  army  sufficient  for  our  defence,  the 
very  comparison  shows  that  the  money  must  be  well  laid  out 

It  may  be  of  some  use,  either  in  debate  or  conversation,  to 


THE  CPJSIS.  197 

attend  to  the  progress  of  the  expens.es  of  an  army,  because  it 
will  enable  us  to  see  on  what  part  any  deficiency  will  fall. 

The  first  thing  is,  to  feed  them  and  provide  for  the  sick. 

Second,  to  clothe  them. 

Third,  to  arm  and  furnish  them. 

Fourth,  to  provide  means  for  removing  them  from  place  to 
place.  And, 

Fifth,  to  pay  them. 

The  first  and  second  are  absolutely  necessary  to  them  as  men. 
The  third  and  fourth  are  equally  as  necessary  to  them  as  an 
army,  And  the  fifth  is  their  just  due.  Now  if  the  sum  which 
shall  be  raised  should  fall  short,  either  by  the  several  acts  of 
the  states  for  raising  it,  or  by  the  manner  of  collecting  it,  the 
deficiency  will  fall  on  the  fifth  head,  the  soldiers'  pay,  which 
would  be  defrauding  them,  and  eternally  disgracing  ourselves. 
It  would  be  a  blot  on  the  councils,  the  country,  and  the  revo- 
lution of  America,  and  a  man  would  hereafter  be  ashamed  to 
own  that  he  had  any  hand  in  it. 

But  if  the  deficiency  should  be  still  shorter,  it  would  next 
fall  on  the  fourth  head,  the  means  of  removing  the  army  from 
place  to  place;  and,  in  this  case,  the  army  must  either  stand 
still  where  it  can  be  of  no  use,  or  seize  on  horses,  carts,  wagons, 
or  any  means  of  transportation  which  it  can  lay  hold  of;  and 
in  this  instance  the  country  suffers.  In  short,  every  attempt 
to  do  a  thing  for  less  than  it  can  be  done  for,  is  sure  to  become 
at  last  both  a  loss  and  a  dishonor. 

But  the  country  cannot  bear  it,  say  some.  This  has  been 
the  most  expensive  doctrine  that  ever  was  held  out,  and  cost 
America  millions  of  money  for  nothing.  Can  the  country  bear 
to  be  overrun,  ravaged,  and  ruined  by  an  enemy1?  This  will 
immediately  follow  where  defence  is  wanting,  and  defence  will 
ever  be  wanting  where  sufficient  revenues  are  not  provided. 
But  this  is  only  one  part  of  the  folly.  The  second  is,  that  when 
the  danger  comes,  invited  in  part  by  our  not  preparing  against 
it,  we  have  been  obliged,  in  a  number  of  instances,  to  expend 
double  the  sums  to  do  that  which  at  first  might  have  been 
done  for  half  the  money.  But  this  is  not  all.  A  third  mis- 
chief has  been,  that  grain  of  all  sorts,  flour,  beef,  fodder, 
horses,  carts,  wagons,  or  whatever  was  absolutely  or  imme- 
diately wanted,  have  been  taken  without  pay.  Now,  I  ask, 
why  was  all  this  done,  but  from  that  extremely  weak  and  ex- 


198         .  THE  CRISIS. 

pensive  doctrine,  tliat  tJte  country  could  not  bear  it  ?  That  is, 
that  she  could  not  bear,  in  the  first  instance,  that  which  would 
have  saved  her  twice  as  much  at  last ;  or,  in  proverbial  lan- 
guage, that  she  could  not  bear  to  pay  a  penny  to  save  a  pound ; 
the  conssquence  of  which  has  been,  that  she  has  paid  a  pound 
for  a  penny.  Why  are  there  so  many  unpaid  certificates 
in  almost  every  man's  hands,  but  from  the  parsimony  of  not 
providing  sufficient  revenues  ?  Besides,  the  doctrine  contra- 
dicts itself ;  because,  if  the  whole  country  cannot  bear  it,  how 
is  it  possible  that  a  pai't  should  ?  And  yet  this  has  been  the 
case:  for  those  things  have  been  had;  and  they  must  be  had; 
but  the  misfortune  is,  that  they  have  been  obtained  in  a  very 
unequal  manner,  and  upon  expensive  credit,  whereas,  with 
ready  money,  they  might  have  been  purchased  for  half  the 
price,  and  nobody  distressed. 

But  there  is  another  thought  which  ought  to  strike  us,  which 
is,  how  is  the  army  to  bear  the  want  of  food,  clothing  and  other 
necessaries?  The  man  who  is  at  home  can  turn  himself  a 
thousand  ways,  and  find  as  many  means  of  ease,  convenience 
or  relief :  but  a  soldier's  life  admits  of  none  of  those :  their 
wants  cannot  be  supplied  from  themselves :  for  an  army,  though 
it  is  the  defence  of  a  state,  is  at  the  same  time  the  child  of  a 
country,  or  must  be  provided  for  in  everything. 

And  lastly,  The  doctrine  is  false.  There  are  not  three  mil- 
lions of  people  in  any  part  of  the  universe,  who  live  so  well, 
or  have  such  a  fund  of  ability  as  in  America.  The  income  of 
a  common  laborer,  who  is  industrious,  is  equal  to  that  of  the 
generality  of  tradesmen  in  England.  In  the  mercantile  line,  I 
have  not  heard  of  one  who  could  be  said  to  be  a  bankrupt  since 
the  war  began,  and  in  England  they  have  been  without  num- 
ber. In  America  almost  every  farmer  lives  on  his  own  lands, 
and  in  England  not  one  in  a  hundred  does.  In  short,  it  seems 
as  if  the  poverty  of  that  country  had  made  them  furious,  and 
they  were  determined  to  risk  all  to  recover  all. 

Yet,  notwithstanding  those  advantages  on  the  part  of 
America,  true  it  is,  that  had  it  not  been  for  the  operation  of 
taxes  for  our  necessary  defence,  we  had  sunk  into  a  state  of 
sloth  and  poverty :  for  there  was  more  wealth  lost  by  neglect- 
ing to  till  the  earth  in  the  years  1776,  '77,  '78,  than  the  quota 
of  taxes  amounts  to.  That  which  is  lost  by  neglect  of  this 
kind,  is  lost  forever:  whereas  that  which  is  paid,  and  continues 
in  the  country,  returns  to  us  again  ;  and  at  the  same  time  th.it 


THE   CRISIS.  199 

it  provides  us  with  defence,  it  operates  not  only  as  a  spur,  but 
as  a  premium  to  our  industry. 

I  shall  now  proceed  to  the  second  head,  viz.  on  the  several 
quotas,  and  the  nature  of  a  union. 

There  was  a  time  when  America  had  no  other  bond  of  union, 
than  that  of  common  interest  and  affection.  The  whole  coun- 
try flew  to  the  relief  of  Boston,  and,  making  her  cause  their 
own,  participated  in  her  cares  and  administered  to  her  wants. 
The  fate  of  war,  since  that  day,  has  carried  the  calamity  in  a 
ten-fold  proportion  to  the  southward;  but  in  the  mean  time  the 
union  has  been  strengthened  by  a  legal  compact  of  the  states, 
jointly  and  severally  ratified,  and  that  which  before  was  choice, 
or  the  duty  of  affection,  is  now  likewise  the  duty  of  legal 
obligation. 

The  union  of  America  is  the  foundation-stone  of  her  inde- 
pendence; the  rock  on  which  it  is  built;  and  is  something  so 
sacred  in  her  constitution,  that  we  ought  to  watch  every  word 
we  speak,  and  every  thought  we  think,  that  we  injure  it  not, 
even  by  mistake.  When  a  multitude,  extended,  or  rather 
scattered,  over  a  continent  in  the  manner  we  were,  mutually 
agree  to  form  one  common  center  whereon  the  whole  shall 
move,  to  accomplish  a  particular  purpose,  all  parts  must  act  to- 
gether and  alike,  or  act  not  at  all,  and  a  stoppage  in  any  one  is 
a  stoppage  of  the  whole,  at  least  for  a  time. 

Thus  the  several  states  have  sent  representatives  to  assemble 
together  in  congress;  and  they  have  empowered  that  body, 
which  thus  becomes  their  center,  and  are  no  other  than  them- 
selves in  representation,  to  conduct  and  manage  the  war,  while 
their  constituents  at  home  attend  to  the  domestic  cares  of  the 
country,  their  internal  legislation,  their  farms,  professions  or 
employments:  for  it  is  only  by  reducing  complicated  things  to 
method  and  orderly  connexion  that  they  can  be  understood  with 
advantage,  or  pursued  with  success.  Congress,  by  virtue  of 
this  delegation,  estimates  the  expense,  and  apportions  it  out  to 
the  several  parts  of  the  empire  according  to  their  several  abil- 
ities; and  here  the  debate  must  end,  because  each  state  has 
already  had  its  voice,  and  the  matter  has  undergone  its  whole 
portion  of  argument,  and  can  no  more  be  altered  by  any  par- 
ticular state,  than  a  law  of  any  state,  after  it  has  passed,  can 
be  altered  by  any  individual.  For  with  respect  to  those  things 
which  immediately  concerned  the  union,  and  for  which  the 
union  was  purposely  established,  and  is  intended  to  secure,  each 


200  THE  CRISIS. 

state  is  to  the  United  States  what  each  individual  is  to  the  state 
he  lives  in.  And  it  is  on  this  grand  point,  this  movement  upon 
one  centre,  that  our  existence  as  a  nation,  our  happiness  as  a 
people,  and  our  safety  as  individuals,  depend. 

It  may  happen  that  some  state  or  other  may  be  somewhat 
over  or  under  rated,  but  this  cannot  be  much.  The  experience 
which  has  been  had  upon  the  matter,  has  nearly  ascertained 
their  several  abilities.  But  even  in  this  case,  it  can  only  admit 
of  an  appeal  to  the  United  States,  but  cannot  authorize  any 
state  to  make  the  alteration  itself,  any  more  than  our  internal 
government  can  admit  an  individual  to  do  so  in  the  case  of  an 
act  of  assembly;  for  if  one  state  can  do  it,  then  may  another 
do  the  same,  and  the  instant  this  is  done  the  whole  is  undone. 
Neither  is  it  supposable  that  any  single  state  can  be  a  judge 
of  all  the  comparative  reasons  which  may  influence  the  collec- 
tive body  in  arranging  the  quotas  of  the  continent.  The 
circumstances  of  the  several  states  are  frequently  varying, 
occasioned  by  the  accidents  of  war  and  commerce,  and  it  will 
often  fall  upon  some  to  help  others,  rather  beyond  what  their 
exact  proportion  at  another  time  might  be ;  but  even  this  assist- 
ance is  as  naturally  and  politically  included  in  the  idea  of  a 
union,  as  that  of  any  particular  assigned  proportion;  because 
we  know  not  whose  turn  it  may  be  next  to  want  assistance,  for 
which  reason  that  state  is  the  wisest  which  sets  the  best 
example. 

Though  in  matters  of  bounden  duty  and  reciprocal  affection, 
it  is  rather  a  degeneracy  from  the  honesty  and  ardor  of  the 
heart  to  admit  anything  selfish  to  partake  in  the  government  of 
our  conduct,  yet  in  cases  where  our  duty,  our  affections,  and 
our  interest  all  coincide,  it  may  be  of  some  use  to  observe  their 
union.  The  United  States  will  become  heir  to  an  extensive 
quantity  of  vacant  land,  and  their  several  titles  to  shares  and 
quotas  thereof,  will  naturally  be  adjusted  according  to  their 
relative  quotas  during  the  war,  exclusive  of  that  inability 
which  may  unfortunately  arise  to  any  state  by  the  enemy's 
holding  possession  of  a  part;  but  as  this  is  a  cold  matter  of 
interest,  I  pass  it  by,  and  proceed  to  my  third  head,  viz.  : 

ON  THE  MANNER  OF  COLLECTION  AND  EXPENDITURE. 
IT  hath  been  our  error,  as  well  as  our  misfortune,  to  blend 
the  affairs  of  each   state,  especially  in   money  matters,  with 
those  of  the  United  States;  whereas,  it  is  our  case,  conven1 


THE  CKISIS.  201 

ence  a«d  interest,  to  keep  them  separate.  The  expenses  of 
the  United  States  for  carrying  on  the  war,  and  the  expenses  of 
each  state  for  its  own  domestic  government,  are  distinct  things, 
and  to  involve  them  is  a  source  of  perplexity  and  a  cloak  for 
fraud.  I  love  method,  because  I  see  and  am  convinced  of  its 
beauty  and  advantage.  It  is  that  which  makes  all  business 
easy  and  understood,  and  without  which,  everything  becomes 
embarrassed  and  difficult. 

There  are  certain  powers  which  the  people  of  each  state  have 
delegated  to  their  legislative  and  executive  bodies,  and  there 
are  other  powers  which  the  people  of  every  state  have  delegated 
to  congress,  among  which  is  that  of  conducting  the  war,  and, 
consequently,  of  managing  the  expenses  attending  it;  for  how 
else  can  that  be  managed,  which  concerns  every  state,  but  by  a 
delegation  from  each  ?  When  a  state  has  furnished  its  quota, 
it  has  an  undoubted  right  to  know  how  it  has  been  applied,  and 
it  is  as  much  the  duty  of  congress  to  inform  the  state  of  the 
one,  as  it  is  the  duty  of  the  state  to  provide  the  other. 

In  the  resolution  of  congress  already  recited,  it  is  recom- 
mended to  the  several  states  to  lay  taxes  for  raising  their  quotas 
of  money  for  the  United  States,  separate  from  t/wse  laid  for  their 
own  particular  use. 

This  is  a  most  necessary  point  to  be  observed,  and  the  dis- 
tinction should  follow  all  the  way  through.  They  should  be 
levied",  paid  and  collected  separately,  and  kept  separate  in  every 
instance.  Neither  have  the  civil  officers  of  any  state,  or  the 
government  of  that  state,  the  least  right  to  touch  that  money 
which  the  people  pay  for  the  support  of  their  army  and  the  war, 
any  more  than  congress  has  to  touch  that  which  each  state  raises 
for  its  own  use. 

This  distinction  will  naturally  be  followed  by  another.  It 
will  occasion  every  state  to  examine  nicely  into  the  expenses  of 
its  civil  list,  and  to  regulate,  reduce,  and  bring  it  into  better 
order  than  it  has  hitherto  been ;  because  the  money  for  that 
purpose  must  be  raised  apart,  and  accounted  for  to  the  public 
separately.  But  while  the  moneys  of  both  were  blended,  the 
necessary  nicety  was  not  observed,  and  the  poor  soldier,  who 
ought  to  have  been  the  first,  was  the  last  who  was  thought  of. 
Another  convenience  will  be,  that  the  people,  by  paying  the 
taxes  separately,  will  know  what  they  are  for ;  and  will  like- 
wise know  that  those  which  are  for  the  defence  of  the  country 
will  cease  with  the  war,  or  soon  after.  For  although,  as  I  have 


202  THE   CRISIS. 

before  observed,  the  war  is  their  own,  and  for  the  support  of 
their  ,own  rights  and  the  protection  of  their  own  property,  yet 
they  have  the  same  right  to  know  that  they  have  to  pay,  and  it 
is  the  want  of  not  knowing  that  is  often  the  cause  of  dissatis- 
faction. 

This  regulation  of  keeping  the  taxes  separate  has  given  rise 
to  a  regulation  in  the  office  of  finance,  by  which  it  was  directed. 

"  That  the  receivers  shall,  at  the  end  of  every  month,  make 
out  an  exact  account  of  the  moneys  received  by  them  respec- 
tively during  such  month,  specifying  therein  the  names  of  the 
persons  from  whom  the  same  shall  have  been  received,  the  dates 
and  the  sums ;  which  account  they  shall  respectively  cause  to 
be  published  in  one  of  the  newspapers  of  the  state ;  to  the  end 
that  every  citizen  may  know  how  much  of  the  moneys  collected 
from  him,  in  taxes,  is  transmitted  to  the  treasury  of  the  United 
States  for  the  support  of  the  war ;  and  also  that  it  may  be 
known  what  moneys  have  been  at  the  order  of  the  superintcnd- 
ant  of  finance.  It  being  proper  and  necessary  that,  in  a  free 
country,  the  people  should  be  as  fully  infoi-rned  of  the  adminis- 
tration of  their  affairs  as  the  nature  of  things  will  admit." 

It  is  an  agreeable  thing  to  see  a  spirit  of  order  and  economy 
taking  place,  after  such  a  series  of  errors  and  difficulties.  A 
government  or  an  administration,  who  means  and  acts  honestly, 
has  nothing  to  fear,  and  consequently  has  nothing  to  conceal ; 
and  it  would  be  of  use  if  a  monthly  or  quarterly  account  was 
to  be  published  as  well  of  the  expenditures  as  of  the  receipts. 
Eight  millions  of  dollars  must  be  husbanded  with  an  exceeding 
deal  of  care  to  make  it  do,  and,  therefore,  as  the  management 
must  be  reputable,  the  publication  would  be  serviceable. 

I  have  heard  of  petitions  which  have  been  presented  to  the 
assembly  of  this  state  (and  probably  the  same  may  have  hap- 
pened in  other  states)  praying  to  have  the  taxes  lowered.  Now 
the  only  way  to  keep  taxes  low  is  for  the  United  States  to  have 
ready  money  to  go  to  market  with  :  and  though  the  taxes  to  be 
raised  for  the  present  year  will  fall  heavy,  and  there  will  natur- 
ally be  some  difficulty  in  paying  them,  yet  the  difficulty,  in  pro- 
portion as  money  spreads  about  the  country,  will  every  day 
rw  less,  and  in  the  end  we  shall  save  some  millions  of  dollars 
it.  We  see  what  a  bitter,  revengeful  enemy  we  have  to  deal 
with,  and  any  expense  is  cheap  compared  to  their  merciless  paw. 
We  have  seen  the  unfortunate  Carolineans  hunted  like  part- 
ridges on  the  mountains,  and  it  is  only  by  providing  means  for 


THE  CRISIS.  203 

our  defence  that  we  shall  be  kept  from  the  some  condition. 
When  we  think  or  talk  about  taxes,  we  ought  to  recollect  that 
we  lie  down  in  peace  and  sleep  in  safety ;  that  we  can  follow 
our  farms  or  stores  or  other  occupations  in  prosperous  tran- 
quillity ;  and  that  these  inestimable  blessings  are  procured  to 
us  by  the  taxes  that  we  pay.  In  this  view,  our  taxes  are  pro- 
perly our  insurance  money ;  they  are  what  we  pay  to  be  made 
safe,  and,  in  strict  policy,  are  the  best  money  we  can  lay  out. 

It  was  my  intention  to  offer  some  remarks  on  the  impost  law 
of  five  per  cent,  recommended  by  congress,  and  to  be  established 
as  a  fund  for  the  payment  of  the  loan-office  certificates,  and 
other  debts  of  the  United  States ;  but  I  have  already  extended 
my  piece  beyond  my  intention.  And  as  this  fund  will  make  our 
system  of  finance  complete,  and  is  strictly  just,  and  consequently 
requires  nothing  but  honesty  to  do  it>  there  needs  but  little  to 
be  said  upon  it. 

COMMON  SENSE. 

PHILADELPHIA,  If  arch  5,  J78&. 


NUMBER  XIL 
ON  THE  PRESENT  STATE  OF  NEWS. 

SINCE  the  arrival  of  two,  if  not  three  packets,  in  quick  suc- 
cession, at  New  York,  from  England,  a  variety  of  unconnected 
news  has  circulated  through  the  country,  and  afforded  as  great 
a  variety  of  speculation. 

That  something  is  the  matter  in  the  cabinet  and  councils  of 
our  enemies,  on  the  other  side  of  the  water,  is  certain — that 
they  have  run  their  length  of  madness,  and  are  under  the  ne- 
cessity of  changing  their  measures  may  easily  be  seen  into ;  but 
to  what  this  change  of  measures  may  amount,  or  how  far  it 
may  correspond  with  our  interest,  happiness,  and  duty,  is  yet 
uncertain;  and  from  what  we  have  hitherto  experienced,  we 
have  too  much  reason  to  suspect  them  in  everything. 

I  do  not  address  this  publication  so  much  to  the  people  of 
America  as  to  the  British  ministiy,  whoever  they  may  be,  for  if 
it  is  their  intention  to  promote  any  kind  of  negotiation,  it  is 
proper  they  should  know  beforehand,  that  the  United  States 
have  as  much  honor  as  bravery;  and  that  they  are  no  more  to 
be  seduced  from  their  alliance;  that  their  line  of  politics  ia 


204  THE   CRISIS. 

formed  and  not  dependent,  like  that  of  their  enemy,  on  chance 
and  accident. 

On  our  part,  in  order  to  know,  at  any  time,  what  the  British 
government  will  do,  we  have  only  to  find  out  what  they  ought 
not  to  do,  and  this  last  will  be  their  conduct.  Forever  chang- 
ing and  forever  wrong;  too  distant  from  America  to  improve 
in  circumstances,  and  too  unwise  to  foresee  them;  scheming 
without  principle,  and  executing  without  probability,  their 
whole  line  of  management  has  hitherto  been  blunder  and  base- 
ness. Every  campaign  has  added  to  their  loss,  and  every  year 
to  their  disgrace;  till  unable  to  go  on,  and  ashamed  to  go  back, 
their  politics  have  come  to  a  halt,  and  all  their  fine  prospects  to 
a  halter. 

Could  our  affections  forgive,  or  humanity  forget  the  wounds 
of  an  injured  country — we  might,  under  the  influence  of  a  mo- 
mentary oblivion,  stand  still  and  laugh  But  they  are  engraven 
where  no  amusement  can  conceal  them,  and  of  a  kind  for  which 
there  is  no  recompense.  Can  ye  restore  to  us  the  beloved  dead1? 
Can  ye  say  to  the  grave,  give  up  the  murdered?  Can  ye 
obliterate  from  our  memories  those  who  are  no  more  1  Think 
not  then  to  tamper  with  our  feelings  by  insidious  contrivance, 
nor  suffocate  our  humanity  by  seducing  us  to  dishonor 

In  March,  1780,  I  published  part  of  the  Crisis,  No.  VIII ,  in 
the  newspapers,  but  did  not  conclude  it  in  the  following  papers 
and  the  remainder  has  lain  by  me  till  the  present  day. 

There  appeared  about  that  time  some  disposition  in  the 
British  cabinet  to  cease  the  further  prosecution  of  the  war,  and 
as  I  had  formed  my  opinion  that  whenever  such  a  design  should 
take  place,  it  would  be  accompanied  with  a  dishonorable  pro- 
position to  America,  respecting  France,  I  had  suppressed  the 
remainder  of  that  number,  not  to  expose  the  baseness  of  any 
such  proposition.  But  the  arrival  of  the  next  news  from  Eng- 
land, declared  her  determination  to  go  on  with  the  war,  and 
consequently  as  the  political  object  I  had  then  in  view  was  not 
become  a  subject,  it  was  unnecessary  in  me  to  bring  it  forward, 
which  is  the  reason  it  was  never  published. 

The  matter  which  I  allude  to  in  the  unpublished  part,  I 
shall  now  make  a  quotation  of,  and  apply  it  as  the  more  en- 
larged state  of  things,  at  this  day,  shall  make  convenient  or 
necessary. 

It  was  as  follows: 

"  By  the  speeches  which  have  appeared  from  the  British  par- 


THE  CRISIS.  205 

liament,  it  is  easy  to  perceive  to  what  impolitic  and  imprudent 
excesses  their  passions  and  prejudices  have,  in  every  instance, 
carried  them  during  the  present  war.  Provoked  at  the  upright 
and  honorable  treaty  between  America  and  France,  they  im- 
agined that  nothing  more  was  necessary  to  be  done  to  prevent 
its  final  ratification,  than  to  promise,  through  the  agency  of 
their  commissioners  (Carlisle,  Eden  and  Johnson)  a  repeal  of 
their  once  offensive  acts  of  parliament.  The  vanity  of  the  con- 
ceit was  as  unpardonable  as  the  experiment  was  impolitic. 
And  so  convinced  am  I  of  their  wrong  ideas  of  America,  that  I 
shall  not  wonder  if,  in  their  last  stage  of  political  frenzy,  they 
propose  to  her  to  break  her  alliance  with  France,  and  enter  into 
one  with  them.  Such  a  proposition,  should  it  ever  be  made, 
and  it  has  been  already  more  than  once  hinted  at  in  parliament, 
would  discover  such  a  disposition  to  perfidiousness,  and  such 
disregard  of  honor  and  morals,  as  would  add  the  finishing  vice 
to  national  corruption. — I  do  not  mention  this  to  put  America 
on  the  watch,  but  to  put  England  on  her  guard,  that  she  do  not, 
in  the  looseness  of  her  heart,  envelop  in  disgrace  every  frag- 
ment of  her  reputation  "  Thus  far  the  quotation. 

By  the  complexion  of  some  part  of  the  news  which  has  trans- 
pired though  the  New  York  papers,  it  seems  probable  that  this 
insidious  era  in  the  British  politics  is  beginning  to  make  its 
appearance.  I  wish  it  may  not ,  for  that  which  is  a  disgrace  to 
human  nature,  throws  something  of  a  shade  over  all  the  human 
character,  and  each  individual  feels  his  share  of  the  wound  that 
is  given  to  the  whole. 

The  policy  of  Britain  has  ever  been  to  divide  America  in 
some  way  or  other.  In  the  beginning  of  the  dispute  she  prac- 
tised every  art  to  prevent  or  destroy  the  union  of  the  states, 
well  knowing  that  could  she  once  get  them  to  stand  singly,  she 
could  conquer  them  unconditionally.  Failing  in  this  project  in 
America,  she  renewed  it  in  Europe;  and  after  the  alliance  had 
taken  place,  she  made  secret  offers  to  France  to  induce  her  to 
give  up  America;  and  what  is  still  more  extraordinary,  she 
at  the  same  time  made  propositions  to  Dr.  Franklin,  then  in 
Paris,  the  very  court  to  which  she  was  secretly  applying,  to 
draw  off'  America  from  France.  But  this  is  not  all. 

On  the  14th  of  September,  1778,  the  British  court,  through 
their  secretary,  Lord  Weymouth,  made  application  to  the 
Marquis  d'Almodovar,  the  Spanish  ambassador  at  London,  to 
"  aak  the  mediation"  for  these  were  the  words,  of  the  court  of 


20b 

Spain,  for  the  purpose  of  negotiating  a  peace  with  Francs, 
leaving  America  (as  I  shall  hereafter  show)  out  of  the  question. 
Spain  readily  offered  her  mediation,  and  likewise  the  city  of 
Madrid  as  the  place  of  conference,  but  withal,  proposed,  that 
the  United  States  of  America  should  be  invited  to  the  treaty, 
and  considered  as  independent  during  the  time  the  business  was 
negotiating.  But  this  was  not  the  view  of  England.  She 
wanted  to  draw  France  from  the  war,  that  she  might  uninter- 
ruptedly pour  out  all  her  force  and  fury  upon  America ;  and 
being  disappointed  in  this  plan,  as  well  through  the  open  and 
generous  conduct  of  Spain,  as  the  determination  of  France,  she 
refused  the  mediation  which  she  had  solicited. 

I  shall  now  give  some  extracts  from  the  justifying  memorial 
of  the  Spanish  court,  in  which  she  has  set  the  conduct  and 
character  of  Britain,  with  respect  to  America,  in  a  clear  and 
striking  point  of  light 

The  memorial,  speaking  of  the  refusal  of  the  British  court  to 
meet  in  conference,  with  commissioners  from  the  United  States, 
who  were  to  be  considered  as  independent  during  the  time  of 
the  conference,  says, 

"It  is  a  thing  very  extrardinary  and  even  ridiculous,  that 
the  court  of  London,  who  treats  the  colonies  as  independent, 
not  only  in  acting,  but  of  right,  during  the  war,  should  have  a 
repugnance  to.  treat  them  as  such  only  in  acting  during  a  truce, 
or  suspension  of  hostilities.  The  convention  of  Saratoga ;  the 
reputing  General  Burgoyne  as  a  lawful  prisoner,  in  order  to 
suspend  his  trial ;  the  exchange  and  liberation  of  other  prisoners 
made  from  *,he  colonies,  the  having  named  commissioners  to 
go  and  supplicate  the  Americans,  at  their  own  doors,  request 
peace  of  them,  and  treat  with  them  and  the  congress:  and, 
finally,  by  a  thousand  other  acts  of  this  sort,  authorized  by  the 
court,  of  London,  which  have  been,  and  are  true  signs  of  the  ac- 
knowledgment of  their  independence. 

"In  aggravation  of  all  the  foregoing,  at  the  same  time  the 
British  cabinet  answered  the  king  of  Spain  in  the  terms  already 
mentioned,  they  wore  insinuating  themselves  at  the  court  of 
France  by  means  of  secret  emissaries,  and  making  very  great 
ofiers  to  her,  to  abandon  the  colonies  and  make  peace  with  Eng- 
land. But  there  is  yet  more;  for  at  this  same  time  the  English 
ministry  were  treating,  by  means  of  another  certain  emissary, 
with  Dr.  Franklin,  minister  plenipotentiary  from  the  colonies, 
residing  at  Paris,  to  whom  they  made  various  proposals  to  dis- 


THE  CRISIS.  207 

unite  them  from  France,  and  accommodate  matters  with  Eng- 
land. 

"From  what  has  been  observed,  it  evidently  follows,  that  the 
whole  of  the  British  politics  was,  to  disunite  the  two  courts  of 
Paris  and  Madrid,  by  means  of  the  suggestions  and  offers  which 
she  separately  made  to  them;  and  also  to  separate  the  colonies 
from  their  treaties  and  engagements  entered  into  with  France, 
and  induce  them  to  a  m  against  the  house  of  Bourbon,  or  more 
probably  to  oppress  them  when  they  found,  from  breaking  their 
engagements,  that  they  stood  alone  and  without  protection. 

"This,  therefore  is  the  net  they  laid  for  the  American  states; 
that  is  to  say,  to  tempt  them  with  flattering  and  very  magnifi- 
cent promises  to  come  to  an  accommodation  with  them,  exclusive 
of  any  intervention  of  Spain  or  France,  that  the  British  ministry 
might  always  remain  the  arbiters  of  the  fate  of  the  colonies. 

"But  the  Catholic  king  (the  king  of  Spain)  faithful  on  the 
one  part  to  the  engagements  which  bind  him  to  the  Most  Chris- 
tian king  (the  king  of  France)  his  nephew;  just  and  upright  on 
the  other,  to  his  own  subjects,  whom  he  ought  to  protect  and 
guard  against  so  many  insults;  and  finally,  full  of  humanity 
and  compassion  for  the  Americans  and  other  individuals  who 
suffer  in  the  present  war;  he  is  determined  to  pursue  and  pro- 
secute it,  and  to  make  all  the  efforts  in  his  power,  until  he  can 
obtain  a  solid  and  permanent  peace,  with  full  and  satisfactory 
securities  that  it  shall  be  observed." 

Thus  far  the  memorial,  a  translation  of  which  into  English, 
may  be  seen  in  full,  under  the  head  of  State  Papers,  in  the 
Annual  Kegister,  for  1779,  p.  367. 

The  extracts  I  have  here  given,  serve  to  show  the  various 
endeavors  and  contrivances  of  the  enemy,  to  draw  France  from 
her  connection  with  America,  and  to  prevail  on  her  to  make 
a  separate  peace  with  England,  leaving  America  totally  out  of 
the  question,  and  at  the  mercy  of  a  merciless,  unprincipled  en- 
emy. The  opinion,  likewise,  which  Spain  has  formed  of  the 
British  cabinet  character,  for  meanness  and  perfidiousness,  is 
so  exactly  the  opinion  of  America,  respecting  it,  that  the  mem- 
orial, in  this  instance,  contains  our  own  statements  and  language ; 
for  people,  however  remote,  who  think  alike,  will  unavoidably 
.speak  alike. 

Thus  we  see  the  insidious  use  which  Britain  endeavored  to 
make  of  the  propositions  of  peace  under  the  mediation  of  Spain. 
I  shall  now  proceed  to  the  second  proposition  under  the  media- 


208  THE  CRISIS. 

tion  of  the  emperor  of  Germany  and  the  empress  of  Russia ;  the 
general  outline  of  which  was,  that  a  congress  of  the  several 
powers  at  war,  should  meet  at  Vienna,  in  1781,  to  settle  pre- 
liminaries of  peace. 

I  could  wish  myself  at  liberty  to  make  use  of  all  the  infor- 
mation which  I  am  possessed  of  on  this  subject,  but  as  there  is 
a  delicacy  in  the  matter,  I  do  not  conceive  it  prudent,  at  least 
at  present,  to  make  references  and  quotations  in  the  same  man- 
ner as  I  have  done  with  respect  to  the  mediation  of  Spain,  who 
published  the  whole  proceedings  herself;  and  therefore,  what 
comes  from  me,  on  this  part  of  the  business,  must  rest  on  my 
own  credit  with  the  public,  assuring  them,  that  when  the  whole 
proceedings,  relative  to  the  proposed  congress  of  Vienna,  shall 
appear,  they  will  find  niy  account  not  only  true,  but  studiously 
moderate. 

We  know  at  the  time  this  mediation  was  on  the  carpet,  the 
expectation  of  the  British  king  and  ministry  ran  high  with 
respect  to  the  conquest  of  America.  The  English  packet  which 
was  taken  with  the  mail  on  board,  and  carried  into  1'Orient,  in 
France,  contained  letters  from  lord  G.  Germaine  to  Sir  Henry 
Clinton,  which  expressed  in  the  fullest  terms  the  ministerial 
idea  of  a  total  conquest.  Copies  of  those  letters  were  sent  to 
congress  and  published  in  the  newspapers  of  last  year.  Colonel 
Laurens  brought  over  the  originals,  some  of  which,  signed  in 
the  hand-writing  of  the  then  secretary,  Germaine,  are  now  in 
my  possession. 

Filled  with  these  high  ideas,  nothing  could  be  more  insolent 
towards  America  than  the  language  of  the  British  court  on  the 
proposed  mediation.  A  peace  with  France  and  Spain  she  anxi- 
ously solicited ;  but  America,  as  before,  was  to  be  left  to  her 
mercy,  neither  would  she  hear  any  proposition  for  admitting  an 
agent  from  the  United  States  into  the  congress  of  Vienna. 

On  the  other  hand,  France,  with  an  open,  noble,  and  manly 
determination,  and  the  fidelity  of  a  good  ally,  would  hear  no 
proposition  for  a  separate  peace,  nor  even  meet  in  congress  at 
Vienna,  without  an  agent  from  America :  and  likewise  that  the 
independent  character  of  the  United  States,  represented  by  the 
agent,  should  be  fully  and  unequivocally  defined  and  settled 
before  any  conference  should  be  entered  on.  The  reasoning 
of  the  court  of  France  on  the  several  propositions  of  the  two 
imperial  courts,  which  relate  to  us,  is  rather  in  the  style  of  an 
American  than  an  ally,  and  she  advocated  the  cause  of  America 


THE  CRISIS.  209 

as  if  she  had  been  America  herself.  Thus  the  second  mediation, 
like  the  first,  proved  ineffectual. 

But  since  that  time,  a  reverse  of  fortune  has  overtaken  the 
British  arms,  and  all  their  high  expecations  are  dashed  to  the 
ground.  The  noble  exertions  to  the  southward  under  General 
Greene;  the  successful  operations  of  the  allied  arms  in  the 
Chesapeake;  the  loss  of  most  of  their  islands  in  the  West  Indies, 
and  Minorca  in  the  Mediterranean;  the  persevering  spirit  of 
Spain  against  Gibraltar;  the  expected  capture  of  Jamaica;  the 
failure  of  making  a  separate  peace  with  Holland,  and  the  ex- 
pense of  an  hundred  millions  sterling,  by  which  all  these  fine 
losses  were  obtained,  have  read  them  a  loud  lesson  of  disgrace- 
ful misfortune,  and  necessity  has  called  on  them  to  change  their 
ground. 

In  this  situation  of  confusion  and  despair  their  present  coun- 
cils have  no  fixed  character.  It  is  now  the  hurricane  months 
of  British  politics.  Every  day  seems  to  have  a  storm  of  its  own, 
and  they  are  scudding  under  the  bare  poles  of  hope.  Beaten, 
but  not  humble ;  condemned,  but  not  penitent ;  they  act  like 
men  trembling  at  fate,  and  catching  at  a  straw.  From  this  con- 
vulsion, in  the  entrails  of  their  politics,  it  is  more  than  probable, 
that  the  mountain  groaning  in  labor  will  bring  forth  a  mouse, 
as  to  its  size,  and  a  monster  in  its  make.  They  will  try  on 
America  the  same  insidious  arts  they  tried  on  France  and  Spain. 

"We  sometime  experience  sensations  to  which  language  is  not 
equal.  The  conception  is  too  bulky  to  be  born  alive,  and  in  the 
torture  of  thinking,  we  stand  dumb  Our  feelings,  imprisoned 
by  their  magnitude,  find  no  way  out — and,  in  the  struggle  of 
expression,  every  finger  tries  to  be  a  tongue.  The  machinery 
of  the  body  seems  too  little  for  the  mind,  and  we  look  about  for 
helps  to  show  our  thoughts  by.  Such  must  be  the  sensation  of 
America,  whenever  Britain,  teeming  with  corruption,  shall  pro- 
pose to  her  to  sacrifice  her  faith. 

But,  exclusive  of  the  wickedness,  there  is  a  personal  offence 
contained  in  every  such  attempt.  It  is  calling  us  villains :  for 
no  man  asks  another  to  act  the  villain  unless  he  believes  him 
inclined  to  be  one.  No  man  attempts  to  seduce  a  truly  honest 
woman.  It  is  the  supposed  looseness  of  her  mind  that  starts 
the  thoughts  of  seduction,  and  he  who  offers  it  calls  her  a  pros- 
titute. Our  pride  is  always  hurt  by  the  same  propositions 
which  offend  our  principles;  for  when  we  are  shocked  at  the 
crime  we  are  wounded  by  the  suspicion  of  our  compliance. 

14 


210  THE  CRISIS. 

Could  I  convey  a  thought  that  might  serve  to  regulate  the 
public  mind,  I  would  not  make  the  interest  of  the  alliance  the 
basis  of  defending  it  All  the  world  are  moved  by  interest, 
and  it  affords  them  nothing  to  boast  of.  But  I  would  go  a 
step  higher,  and  defend  it  on  the  ground  of  honor  and  princi- 
ple. That  our  public  affairs  have  nourished  under  the  alliance 
— that  it  was  wisely  made,  and  has  been  nobly  executed — that 
by  its  assistance  we  are  enabled  to  preserve  our  country  from 
conquest,  and  expel  those  who  sought  our  destruction — that  it 
is  our  true  interest  to  maintain  it  unimpaired,  and  that  while 
we  do  so  no  enemy  can  conquer  us,  are  matters  which  exper- 
ience has  taught  us,  and  the  common  good  of  ourselves,  ab 
stracted  from  principles  of  faith  and  honor,  would  lead  us  to 
maintain  the  connexion. 

But  over  and  above  the  mere  letter  of  the  alliance,  we  have 
been  nobly  and  generously  treated,  and  have  had  the  same 
respect  and  attention  paid  to  us,  as  if  we  had  been  an  old  estab- 
lished country.  To  oblige  and  be  obliged  is  fair  work  among 
mankind,  and  we  want  an  opportunity  of  showing  to  the  world 
that  we  are  a  people  sensible  of  kindness  and  worthy  of  con- 
lidence.  Character  is  to  us,  in  our  present  circumstances,  of 
more  importance  than  interest.  We  are  a  young  nation,  just 
stepping  upon  the  stage  of  public  life,  and  the  eye  of  the  world 
is  upon  us  to  see  how-  we  act.  We  have  an  enemy  who  is 
watching  to  destroy  our  reputation,  and  who  will  go  any 
length  to  gain  some  evidence  against  us,  that  may  serve  to 
render  our  conduct  suspected,  and  our  character  odious;  be- 
cause, could  she  accomplish  this,  wicked  as  it  is,  the  world 
would  withdraw  from  us,  as  from  a  people  not  to  be  trusted, 
and  our  task  would  then  become  difficult. 

There  is  nothing  which  sets  the  character  of  a  nation  in  a 
hiclier  or  lower  light  with  others  than  the  faithfully  fulfilling 
or  perfidiously  breaking  of  treaties.  They  are  things  not  to 
be  tampered  with :  and  should  Britain,  which  seems  very  prob- 
able, propose  to  seduce  America  into  such  an  act  of  baseness, 
it  would  merit  from  her  some  mark  of  unusual  detestation. 
It  is  one  of  those  extraordinary  instances  in  which  we  ought 
not  to  be  contented  with  the  bare  negative  of  congress,  because 
it  is  an  affront  on  the  multitude  as  well  as  on  the  government. 
It  goes  on  the  supposition  that  the  public  are  not  honest  men, 
and  that  they  may  be  managed  by  contrivance,  though  they 
cannot  be  conquered  by  arms.  But,  let  the  world  and  Britain 


THE  CRISIS.  211 

know,  that  we  are  neither  to  be  bought  nor  sold.  That  our 
mind  is  great  and 'fixed;  our  prospect  clear;  and  that  we  will 
support  our  character  as  firmly  as  our  independence. 

But  I  will  go  still  further.  General  Conway,  who  made  the 
motion  in  the  British  parliament,  for  discontinuing  offensive 
war  in  America,  is  a  gentlemen  of  an  amiable  character.  We 
have  no  personal  quarrel  with  him.  But  he  feels  not  as  we 
feel ;  he  is  not  in  our  situation,  and  that  alone,  without  any 
other  explanation,  is  enough. 

The  British  parliament  suppose  they  have  many  friends  in 
America,  and  that,  when  all  chance  of  conquest  is  over,  they 
will  be  able  to  draw  her  from  her  alliance  with  France.  Now, 
if  I  have  any  conception  of  the  human  heart,  they  will  fail  in 
this  more  than  in  anything  that  they  have  yet  tried. 

This  part  of  the  business  is  not  a  question  of  policy  only, 
but  of  honor  and  honesty ;  and  the  proposition  will  have  in 
it  something  so  visibly  low  and  base,  that  their  partisans, 
if  they  have  any,  will  be  ashamed  of  it.  Men  are  often  hurt 
by  a  mean  action  who  are  not  startled  at  a  wicked  one,  and 
this  will  be  such  a  confession  of  inability,  such  a  declaration 
of  servile  thinking,  that  the  scandal  of  it  will  ruin  all  their 
hopes. 

In  short,  we  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  go  on  with  vigor  and 
determination.  The  enemy  is  yet  in  our  country.  They  hold 
New  York,  Charleston  and  Savannah,  and  their  very  being  in 
those  places  is  an  offence,  and  a  part  of  offensive  war,  and 
antil  they  can  be  driven  from  them,  or  captured  in  them,  it 
would  be  folly  in  us  to  listen  to  an  idle  tale.  1  take  it  for 
granted  that  the  British  ministry  are  sinking  under  the  impos- 
sibility of  carrying  on  the  war.  Let  them  then  come  to  a  fair 
and  open  peace  with  France,  Spain,  Holland  and  America,  in 
the  manner  that  she  ought  to  do;  but  until  then,  we  can  have 
nothing  to  say  to  them. 

COMMON  SENSE. 
PHILADELPHIA,  3fiy  £&nd,  1789. 


NUMBER  XIII. 

TO  SIR  GUY  CARLETON. 

IT  is  the  nature  of  compassion  to  associate  with  misfortune ; 
and  I  address  this  to  you  in  behalf  even  of  an  enemy,  a  captain 


212  THE  CRISIS. 

in  the  British  service,  now  on  his  way  to  the  headquarters  of 
the  American  array,  and  unfortunately  doomed  to  death  for  a 
crime  not  his  own.  A  sentence  so  extraordinary,  an  execution 
so  repugnant  to  every  human  sensation,  ought  never  to  be  told 
without  the  circumstances  which  produced  it:  and  as  the  des- 
tined victim  is  yet  in  existence,  and  in  your  hands  rest  his 
life  or  death,  I  shall  briefly  state  the  case,  and  the  melancholy 
consequence. 

Captain  Huddy,  of  the  Jersey  militia,  was  attacked  in  a  small 
fort  on  Tom's  River,  by  a  party  of  refugees  in  the  British  pay 
and  service,  was  made  prisoner,  together  with  his  company, 
carried  to  New  York  and  lodged  in  the  provost  of  that  city : 
about  three  weeks  after  which,  he  was  taken  out  of  the  provost 
down  to  the  water-side,  put  into  a  boat,  and  brought  again  upon 
the  Jersey  shore,  amd  there,  contrary  to  the  practice  of  all  na- 
tions but  savages,  was  hung  up  on  a  tree,  and  left  hanging  till 
found  by  our  people,  who  took  him  down  and  buried  him. 

The  inhabitants  of  that  part  of  the  country  where  the  murder 
was  committed,  sent  a  deputation  to  General  Washington  with 
a  full  and  certified  statement  of  the  fact.  Struck,  as  every 
human  breast  must  be,  with  such  brutish  outrage,  and  deter 
mined  both  to  punish  and  prevent  it  for  the  future,  the  general 
represented  the  case  to  General  Clinton,  who  then  commanded, 
and  demanded  that  the  refugee  officer  who  ordered  and  attended 
the  execution,  and  whose  name  is  Lippincut,  should  be  delivered 
up  as  a  murderer;  and  in  case  of  refusal,  that  the  person  of 
some  British  officer  should  suffer  in  his  stead.  The  demand, 
though  not  refused,  has  not  been  complied  with;  and  the  mel- 
ancholy lot  (not  by  selection,  but  by  casting  lots)  has  fallen 
upon  Captain  Asgill,  of  the  guards,  who,  as  I  have  already  men- 
tioned, is  on  his  way  from  Lancaster  to  camp,  a  martyr  to  the 
general  wickedness  of  the  cause  he  engaged  in,  and  the  ingrati- 
tude of  those  whom  he  served. 

The  first  reflection  which  arises  on  this  black  business  is, 
what  sort  of  men  must  Englishmen  be,  and  what  sort  of  order 
and  discipline  do  they  preserve  in  their  army,  when  in  the  im- 
mediate place  of  their  headquarters,  and  under  the  eye  and 
nose  of  their  commander-in-chief,  a  prisoner  can  be  taken  at 
pleasure  from  his  confinement,  and  his  death  made  a  matter  of 
sport. 

The  history  of  the  most  savage  Indians  does  not  produce  in- 
stances exactly  of  this  kind.  They,  at  least,  have  a  formality 


THE   CPJSIS.  213 

in  their  punishments.  With  them  it  is  the  horridness  of  re- 
venge, but  with  your  army  it  is  a  still  greater  crime,  the  hor 
ridness  of  diversion. 

The  British  generals,  who  have  succeeded  each  other,  from 
the  time  of  General  Gage  to  yourself,  have  all  affected  to  speak 
in  language  that  they  have  no  right  to.  In  their  proclamations, 
their  addresses,  their  letters  to  General  Washington,  and  their 
supplications  to  congress  (for  they  deserve  no  other  name)  they 
talk  of  British  honor,  British  generosity,  and  British  clemency, 
as  if  those  things  were  matters  of  fact ;  whereas,  we  whose  eyes 
are  open,  who  speak  the  same  language  with  yourselves,  many 
of  whom  were  born  on  the  same  spot  with  you,  and  who  can 
no  more  be  mistaken  in  your  words  than  in  your  actions,  can 
declare  to  all  the  world,  that  so  far  as  our  knowledge  goes,  there 
is  not  a  more  detestable  character,  nor  a  meaner  or  more  bar- 
barous enemy,  than  the  present  British  one.  With  us,  you 
have  forfeited  all  pretensions  to  reputation,  and  it  is  only  hold- 
ing you  like  a  wild  beast,  afraid  of  your  keepers,  that  you  can 
be  made  manageable.  But  to  return  to  the  point  in  question. 

Though  i  can  think  no  man  innocent  who  has  lent  his  hand 
to  destroy  the  country  which  he  did  not  plant,  and  to  ruin  those 
that  he  could  not  enslave,  yet,  abstracted  from  all  ideas  of  right 
and  wrong  on  the  original  question,  Captain  Asgill,  in  the  pre- 
sent case,  is  not  the  guilty  man.  The  villain  and  the  victim 
are  here  separated  characters.  You  hold  the  one  and  we  the 
other.  You  disown,  or  affect  to  disown  and  reprobate  the  con 
duct  of  Lippincut,  yet  you  give  him  a  sanctuary ;  and  by  so  do 
ing  you  as  effectually  become  die  executioner  of  Asgill,  as  if  you 
had  put  the  rope  on  his  neck,  and  dismissed  him  from  the  world 
Whatever  your  feelings  on  this  interesting  occasion  may  be  are 
best  known  to  yourself.  Within  the  grave  of  our  own  mind 
lies  buried  the  fate  of  Asgill.  He  becomes  the  corpse  of  your 
will,  or  the  survivor  of  your  justice.  Deliver  up  the  one  and 
you  save  the  other;  withhold  the  one,  and  the  other  dies  by  your 
choice. 

On  our  part  the  case  is  exceeding  plain ;  an  officer  has  been 
taken  from  his  confinement  and  murdered,  and  the  murderer  is 
within  your  lines.  Your  army  has  been  guilty  of  a  thousand 
instances  of  equal  cruelty,  but  they  have  been  rendered  equivo- 
cal, and  sheltered  from  personal  detection.  Here  the  crime  is 
fixed  ;  and  is  one  of  those  extraordinary  cases  which  can  be 
neither  denied  nor  palliated,  and  to  which  the  custom  of  war 


214  THE  CRISIS. 

does  not  apply ;  for  it  never  could  be  supposed  that  such  a 
brutal  outrage  would  ever  be  committed.  It  is  an  original  in 
the  history  of  civilized  barbarians,  and  is  truly  British. 

On  your  part  you  are  accountable  to  us  for  the  personal 
safety  of  the  prisoners  within  your  walls.  Here  can  be  no 
mistake  ;  they  can  neither  be  spies  nor  suspected  as  such  ;  your 
security  is  not  endangered,  nor  your  operations  subjected  to 
miscarriage,  by  men  immured  within  a  dungeon.  They  differ 
in  every  circumstance  from  men  in  the  field,  and  leave  no  pre- 
tence for  severity  of  punishment.  But  if  to  the  dismal  condition 
of  captivity  with  you,  must  be  added  the  constant  apprehensions 
of  death  ;  if  to  be  imprisoned  is  so  nearly  to  be  entombed  ;  and, 
if  after  all,  the  murderers  are  to  be  protected,  and  thereby  the 
crime  encouraged,  wherein  do  you  differ  from  Indians,  either  in 
conduct  or  character  1 

We  can  have  no  idea  of  your  honor  or  your  justice  in  any 
future  transaction,  of  what  nature  it  may  be,  while  you  shelter 
within  your  lines  an  outrageous  murderer,  and  sacrifice  in  his 
stead  an  officer  of  your  own.  If  you  have  no  regard  to  us,  at 
least  spare  the  blood  which  it  is  your  duty  to  save.  Whether 
the  punishment  will  be  greater  on  him,  who,  in  this  case,  inno- 
cently dies,  or  on  him  whom  sad  necessity  forces  to  retaliate,  is, 
in  the  nicety  of  sensation,  an  undecided  question.  It  rests  with 
you  to  prevent  the  sufferings  of  both.  You  have  nothing  to  do 
but  to  give  up  the  murderer,  and  the  matter  ends. 

But  to  protect  him,  be  he  who  he  may,  is  to  patronise  his 
crime;  and  to  trifle  it  off  by  frivolous  and  unmeaning  inquiries, 
is  to  promote  it.  There  is  no  declaration  you  can  make  nor 
promise  you  can  give  that  will  obtain  credit.  It  is  the  man 
and  not  the  apology  that  is  demanded. 

You  see  yourself  pressed  on  all  sides  to  spare  the  life  of  your 
own  officer,  for  die  he  will  if  you  withhold  justice.  The  mur- 
der of  Captain  Huddy  is  an  offence  not  to  be  borne  with,  and 
there  is  no  security  which  we  can  have,  that  such  actions  or 
similar  ones  shall  not  be  repeated,  but  by  making  the  punish- 
ment fall  upon  yourselves.  To  destroy  the  last  security  of 
captivity,  and  to  take  the  unarmed,  the  unresisting  prisoner  to 
private  and  sportive  execution,  is  carrying  barbarity  too  high 
for  silence.  The  evil  must  be  put  an  end  to ;  and  the  choice  of 
persons  rests  with  you.  But  if  your  attachment  to  the  guilty 
is  stronger  than  to  the  innocent,  you  invent  a  crime  that  must 
destroy  your  character,  and  if  the  cause  of  your  king  needs  to 


THE  CRISIS.  215 

be  so  supported,  for  ever  cease,  sir,  to  torture  our  remembrance 
with  the  wretched  phrases  of  British  honor,  British  generosity, 
and  British  clemency. 

From  this  melancholy  circumstance,  learn,  sir,  a  lesson  of 
morality.  The  refugees  are  men  whom  your  predecessors  have 
instructed  in  wickedness,  the  better  to  fit  them  to  their  master's 
purpose.  To  make  them  useful,  they  have  made  them  vile,  and 
the  consequence  of  their  tutored  villainy  is  now  descending  on 
the  heads  of  their  encouragers.  They  have  been  trained  like 
hounds  to  the  scent  of  blood,  and  cherished  in  every  species  of 
dissolute  barbarity.  Their  ideas  of  right  and  wrong  are  worn 
away  in  the  constant  habitude,  of  repeated  infamy,  till,  like 
men  practised  in  execution,  they  feel  not  the  value  of  another's 
life. 

The  task  before  you,  though  painful,  is  not  difficult ;  give  up 
the  murderer,  and  save  your  officer,  as. the  first  outset  of  neces 
sary  reformation. 

COMMON  SENSE. 

PHIIAD  '.PHIA,  M  'y  31,  1782. 


DUMBER  XIV. 
TO  THE  EAKL  OF  SHELBTJRNE. 

MY  LOKD, — A  speech,  which  has  been  printed  in  several  of 
the  British  and  New  York  newspapers,  as  coming  from  your 
lordship,  in  answer  to  one  from  the  duke  of  Richmond,  of  the 
10th  of  July  last,  contains  expressions  and  opinions  so  new  and 
singular,  and  so  enveloped  in  mysterious  reasoning,  that  I  ad 
dress  this  publication  to  you,  for  the  purpose  of  giving  them  a 
free  and  candid  examination.  The  speech  that  I  allude  to  is  in 
these  words: 

"His  lordship  said,  it  had  been  mentioned  in  another  place, 
that  he  had  been  guilty  of  inconsistency.  To  cleai  himself  of 
this,  he  asserted  that  he  still  held  the  same  principles  in  respect 
to  American  independence  which  he  at  first  imbibed.  He  had 
been,  and  yet  was  of  opinion,  whenever  the  parliament  of  Great 
Britain  acknowledges  that  point,  the  sun  of  England's  glory  is 
set  forever.  Such  were  the  sentiments  he  possessed  on  a  former 
day,  and  such  the  sentiments  he  continued  to  hold  at  this  hour. 
It  was  the  opinion  of  lord  Chatham,  as  well  as  many  other  able 


216  THE  CK1SIS. 

statesmen.  Other  noble  lords,  however,  think  differently ;  and 
as  the  majority  of  the  cabinet  support  them,  he  acquiesced  in  the 
measure,  dissenting  from  the  idea;  and  the  point  is  settled  for 
bringing  the  matter  into  the  full  discussion  of  parliament,  where 
it  will  be  candidly,  fairly,  and  impartially  debated.  The  in- 
dependence of  America  would  end  in  the  ruin  of  England;  and 
that  a  peace  patched  up  with  France,  would  give  that  proud 
enemy  the  means  of  yet  trampling  on  this  country.  The  sun 
of  England's  glory  he  wished  not  to  see  set  forever ;  he  looked 
for  a  spark  at  least  to  be  left,  which  might  in  time  light  us  up 
to  a  new  day.  But  if  independence  was  to  be  granted,  if  parlia- 
ment deemed  that  measure  prudent,  he  foresaw,  in  his  own  mind, 
that  England  was  undone.  He  wished  to  God  that  he  had  been 
deputed  to  congress,  that  he  might  plead  the  cause  of  that 
country  as  well  as  of  this,  and  that  he  might  exercise  whatever 
powers  he  possessed  as  an  orator,  to  save  both  from  ruin,  in  a 
conviction  to  congress,  that,  if  their  independence  was  signed, 
their  liberties  were  gone  forever. 

"Peace,  his  lordship  added,  was  a  desirable  object,  but  it  must 
be  an  honorable  peace,  and  not  an  humiliating  one,  dictated  by 
France,  or  insisted  or  by  America.  It  was  very  true,  that  this 
kingdom  was  not  in  a  flourishing  state,  it  was  impoverished  by 
war.  But  if  we  were  not  rich,  it  was  evident  that  France  was 
poor.  If  we  were  straitened  in  our  finances,  the  enemy  were 
exhausted  in  their  resources.  This  was  a  g^eat  empire;  it 
abounded  with  brave  men,  who  were  able  and  willing  to  fight  in 
a  common  cause ;  the  language  of  humilitation  should  not,  there- 
fore, be  the  language  of  Great  Britain.  His  lordship  said,  that 
he  was  not  afraid  nor  ashamed  of  those  expressions  going  to 
America.  There  were  numbers,  great  numbers,  there,  who  were 
of  the  same  way  of  thinking,  in  respect  to  that  country  being 
dependent  on  this,  and  who,  with  his  lordship,  perceived  ruin 
and  independence  linked  together." 

Thus  far  the  speech;  on  which  I  remark — That  his  lordship 
is  a  total  stranger  to  the  mind  and  sentiments  of  America ;  that 
he  has  wrapped  himself  up  in  fond  delusion,  that  something  less 
than  independence  may,  under  his  administration,  be  accepted; 
and  he  wishes  himself  sent  to  congress,  to  prove  the  most  extra- 
ordinary of  all  doctrines,  which  is,  that  independence,  the  sub- 
Urnest  of  all  human  conditions,  is  loss  of  liberty. 

In  answer  to  which  we  may  say,  that  in  order  to  know  what 
the  contrary  word  dependence  means,  we  have  only  to  look  back 


217 

to  those  years  of  severe  humiliation,  when  the  mildest  of  all 
petitions  could  obtain  no  other  notice  than  the  haughtiest  of  all 
insults;  and  when  the  base  terms  of  unconditional  submission 
were  demanded,  or  undistinguishable  destruction  threatened. 
It  is  nothing  to  us  that  the  ministry  have  been  changed,  for  they 
may  be  changed  again.  The  guilt  of  a  government  is  the  crime 
of  a  whole  country ;  and  the  nation  that  can,  though  but  for  a 
moment,  think  and  act  as  England  has  done,  can  never  after- 
wards be  believed  or  trusted.  There  are  cases  in  which  it  is  as 
impossible  to  restore  character  to  life,  as  it  is  to  recover  the  dead. 
It  is  a  phoenix  that  can  expire  but  once,  and  from  whose  ashes 
there  is  no  resurrection.  Some  offences  are  of  such  a  slight  com- 
position, that  they  reach  no  further  than  the  temper,  and  are 
created  or  cured  by  a  thought.  But  the  sin  of  England  has 
struck  the  heart  of  America,  and  nature  has  not  left  in  our  power 
to  say  we  can  forgive. 

Your  lordship  wishes  for  an  opportunity  to  plead  before  con- 
gress the  cause  of  England  and  America,  and  to  save,  as  you  say, 
both  from  ruin. 

That  the  country,  which,  for  more  than  seven  years  has 
sought  our  destruction,  shou.  \  now  cringe  to  solicit  our  protec- 
tion, is  adding  the  wretchedness  of  disgrace  to  the  misery  of 
disappointment;  and  if  England  has  the  least  spark  of  supposed 
honor  left,  that  spark  must  be  darkened  by  asking,  and  ex- 
tinguished by  receiving  the  smallest  favor  from  America;  for 
the  criminal  who  owes  his  life  to  the  grace  and  mercy  of  the 
injured,  is  more  execrated  by  the  living,  than  he  who  dies. 

But  a  thousand  pleadings,  even  from  your  lordship,  can  have 
no  effect  Honor,  interest,  and  every  sensation  of  the  heart, 
would  plead  against  you.  We  are  a  people  who  think  not  as 
you  think ;  and  what  is  equally  true,  you  cannot  feel  as  we  feel. 
The  situation  of  the  two  countries  are  exceedingly  different. 
Ours  has  been  the  seat  of  war;  yours  has  seen  nothing  of  it. 
The  most  wanton  destruction  has  been  committed  in  our  sight, 
the  most  insolent  barbarity  has  been  acted  on  our  feelings. 
We  can  look  round  and  see  the  remains  of  burnt  and  destroyed 
houses,  once  the  fair  fruit  of  hard  industry,  and  now  the 
striking  monuments  of  British  brutality.  We  walk  over  the 
dead  whom  we  loved,  in  every  part  of  America,  and  remember 
by  whom  they  fell.  There  is  scarcely  a  village  but  brings  to 
life  some  melancholy  thought,  and  reminds  us  of  what  we  have 
suffered,  and  of  those  we  have  lost  by  the  inhumanity  of  Britain. 


218  THE  CRISIS. 

A  thousand  images  arise  to  us,  which,  from  situation,  you  can- 
not see,  and  are  accompanied  by  as  many  ideas  which  you 
cannot  know ;  and  therefore  your  supposed  system  of  reasoning 
would  apply  to  nothing,  and  all  your  expectations  die  of  them- 
selves. 

The  question  whether  England  shall  accede  to  the  independ- 
ence of  America,  and  which  your  lordship  says  is  to  undergo  a 
parliamentary  discussion,  is  so  very  simple,  and  composed  of  so 
few  cases,  that  it  scarcely  needs  a  debate. 

It  is  the  only  way  out  of  an  expensive  and  ruinous  war, 
which  has  no  object,  and  without  which  acknowledgment  there 
can  be  no  peace. 

But  your  lordship  says,  the  sun  of  Great  Britain  will  set 
wJienever  she  acknowledges  the  independence  of  America. — 
Whereas  the  metaphor  would  have  been  strictly  just,  to  have 
left  the  sun  wholly  out  of  the  figure,  and  have  ascribed  her  not 
acknowledging  it  to  the  influence  of  the  moon. 

But  the  expression,  if  true,  is  the  greatest  confession  of  dis- 
grace that  could  be  made,  and  furnishes  America  with  the 
highest  notions  of  sovereign  independent  importance.  Mr. 
Wedderburne,  about  the  year  1776,  made  use  of  an  idea  of 
much  the  same  kind, — Relinquish  America/  says  he — What  is 
it  but  to  desire  a  giant  to  shrink  spontaneously  into  a  dwarf. 

Alas!  are  those  people  who  call  themselves  Englishmen,  of 
so  little  internal  consequence,  that  when  America  is  gone,  or 
shuts  her  eyes  upon  them,  their  sun  is  set,  they  can  shine  no 
more,  but  grope  about  in  obscurity,  and  contract  into  insignifi- 
cant animals  1  Was  America,  then,  the  giant  of  the  empire, 
and  England  only  her  dwarf  in  waiting?  Is  the  case  so 
strangely  altered,  that  those  who  once  thought  we  could  not 
live  without  them,  are  now  brought  to  declare  that  they  cannot 
exist  without  us  ?  Will  they  tell  to  the  world,  and  that  from 
their  first  minister  of  state,  that  America  is  their  all  in  all ; 
that  it  is  by  her  importance  only  that  they  can  live,  and 
breathe,  and  have  a  being?  Will  they,  who  long  since 
threatened  to  bring  us  to  their  feet,  bow  themselves  at  ours, 
and  own  that  without  us  they  are  not  a  nation  1  Are  they  be- 
come so  unqualified  to  debate  on  independence,  that  they  have  lost 
all  idea  of  it  themselves,  and  are  calling  to  the  rocks  and  moun- 
tains of  America  to  cover  their  insignificance  ?  Or,  if  America 
is  lost,  is  it  manly  to  sob  over  it  like  a  child  for  its  rattle,  and 
invite  the  laughter  of  the  world  by  declarations  of  disgrace  ? 


THE   CRISIS.  -210 

Surely,  a  more  consistent  line  of  conduct  would  be  to  bear  it 
without  complaint ;  and  to  show  that  England,  without  America, 
can  preserve  her  independence,  and  a  suitable  rank  with  other 
European  powers.  You  were  not  contented  while  you  had  her, 
and  to  weep  for  her  now  is  childish. 

But  Lord  Shelburne  thinks  something  may  yet  be  done. 
What  that  something  is,  or  how  it  is  to  be  accomplished,  is  a 
matter  in  obscurity.  By  arms  there  is  no  hope.  The  experi- 
ence of  nearly  eight  years,  with  the  expense  of  an  hundred 
million  pounds  sterling,  and  the  loss  of  two  armies,  must  posi- 
ti"ely  decide  that  point.  Besides,  the  British  have  lost  their 
interest  in  America  with  the  disaffected.  Every  part  of  it  has 
been  tried.  There  is  no  new  scene  left  for  delusion:  and  the 
thousands  who  have  been  ruined  by  adhering  to  them,  and  have 
now  to  quit  the  settlements  which  they  had  acquired,  and  be 
conveyed  like  transports  to  cultivate  the  deserts  of  Augustine 
;uid  Nova  Scotia,  has  put  an  end  to  all  further  expectations  of 
aid. 

If  you  cast  your  eyes  on  the  people  of  England,  what  have 
they  to  console  themselves  with  for  the  millions  expended  ?  Or, 
what  encouragement  is  there  left  to  continue  throwing  good 
money  after  bad  1  America  can  carry  on  the  war  for  ten  years 
longer,  and  all  the  charges  of  government  included,  for  less 
than  you  can  defray  the  charges  of  war  and  government  for  one 
year.  And  I,  who  know  both  countries}  know  well,  that  the 
people  of  America  can  afford  to  pay  their  share  of  the  expenses 
much  better  than  the  people  of  England  can.  Besides,  it  is 
their  own  estates  and  property,  their  own  rights,  liberties  and 
government,  that  they  are  defending;  and  were  they  not  to  do 
it,  they  would  deserve  to  lose  all,  and  none  would  pity  them. 
The  fault  would  be  their  own,  and  their  punishment  just. 

The  British  army  in  America  care  not  how  long  the  war 
lasts.  They  enjoy  an  easy  and  indolent  life.  They  fatten  on 
the  folly  of  one  country  and  the  spoils  of  another;  and, 
between  their  plunder  and  their  pay,  may  go  home  rich.  But 
the  case  is  very  different  with  the  laboring  farmer,  the  working 
tradesman,  and  the  necessitous  poor  in  England,  the  sweat  of 
whose  brow  goes  day  after  day  to  feed,  in  prodigality  and  sloth, 
the  army  that  is  robbing  both  tkern  and  us.  Removed  from 
the  eye  of  that  country  that  supports  them,  and  distant  from 
the  government  that  employs  them,  they  cut  and  carve  for 
themselves,  and  there  is  none  to  call  them  to  account. 


220  THE  CRISIS. 

But  England  will  be  ruined,  says  Lord  Shelburne,  if 
America  is  independent. 

Then,  I  say,  is  England  already  ruined,  for  America  is 
already  independent;  and  if  Lord  Shelburne  will  not  allow 
this,  he  immediately  denies  the  fact  which  he  infers.  Besides, 
to  make  England  the  mere  creature  of  America,  is  paying  too 
great  a  compliment  to  us,  and  too  little  to  himself. 

But  the  declaration  is  a  rhapsody  of  inconsistency.  For  to 
say,  as  Lord  Shelburne  has  numberless  times  said,  that  the  war 
against  America  is  ruinous,  and  yet  to  continue  the  prosecution 
of  that  ruinous  war  for  the  purpose  of  avoiding  ruin,  is  a  lan- 
guage which  cannot  be  understood.  Neither  is  it  possible  to 
see  how  the  independence  of  America  is  to  accomplish  the  ruin 
of  England  after  the  war  is  over,  and  yet  not  affect  it  before. 
America  cannot  be  more  independent  of  her,  nor  a  greater 
enemy  to  her,  hereafter  than  she  now  is;  nor  can  England 
derive  less  advantages  from  her  than  at  present:  why  then  is 
ruin  to  follow  in  the  best  state  of  the  case,  and  not  in  the 
worst1?  And  if  not  in  the  worst,  why  is  it  to  follow  at  all  1 

That  a  nation  is  to  be  ruined  by  peace  and  commerce,  and 
fourteen  or  fifteen  millions  a  year  less  expenses  than  before,  is 
a  new  doctrine  in  politics.  We  have  heard  much  clamor  of 
national  savings  and  economy;  but  surely  the  true  economy 
would  be,  to  save  the  whole  charge  of  a  silly,  foolish  and  head- 
strong war;  because,  compared  with  this,  all  other  retrench- 
ments are  baubles  and  trifles. 

But  is  it  possible  that  Lord  Shelburne  can  be  serious  in 
supposing  that  the  least  advantage  can  be  obtained  by  arms,  or 
that  any  advantage  can  be  equal  to  the  expense  or  the  danger 
of  attempting  it?  Will  not  the  capture  of  one  army  after 
another  satisfy  him,  must  all  become  prisoners  ?  Must  England 
ever  be  the  sport  of  hope,  and  the  victim  of  delusion  ?  Some- 
times our  currency  was  to  fail;  another  time  our  army  was  to 
disband;  then  whole  provinces  were  to  revolt.  Such  a  general 
said  this  and  that;  another  wrote  so  and  so;  Lord  Chatham 
was  of  this  opinion,  and  Lord  somebody  else  of  another.  To- 
day 20,000  Russians  and  20  Russian  ships  of  the  line  were  to 
come;  to-morrow  the  empress  was  abused  without  mercy  or 
decency.  Then  the  emperor  of  Germany  was  to  be  bribed  with 
a  million  of  money,  and  the  king  of  Prussia  was  to  do  wonder- 
ful things.  At  one  time  it  was,  lo  here !  and  then  it  was,  lo 
there !  Sometimes  this  power,  and  sometimes  that  power,  was 


THE  CRISIS.  221 

to  engage  in  the  war,  just  as  if  the  whole  world  was  as  mad 
und  foolish  as  Britain.  And  thus,  from  year  to  year,  has 
every  straw  been  catched  at,  and  every  Will- with-a- wisp  led 
Vhem  a  new  dance. 

This  year  a  still  newer  folly  is  to  take  place.  Lord  Shel- 
burne  wishes  to  be  sent  to  congress,  and  he  thinks  that  some- 
thing may  be  done. 

Are  not  the  repeated  declarations  of  congress,  and  which  all 
America  supports,  that  they  will  not  even  hear  any  proposals 
whatever,  until  the  unconditional  and  unequivocal  independence 
of  America  is  recognized;  are  not,  I  say,  these  declarations 
answer  enough1? 

But  for  England  to  receive  anything  from  America  now, 
after  so  many  insults,  injuries  and  outrages,  acted  towards  us, 
would  show  such  a  spirit  of  meanness  in  her,  that  we  could 
not  but  despise  her  for  accepting  it.  And  so  far  from  Lord 
Shelburne's  coming  here  to  solicit  it,  it  would  be  the  greatest 
disgrace  we  could  do  them  to  offer  it.  England  would  appear 
a  wretch  indeed,  at  this  time  of  day.  to  ask  or  owe  anything 
to  the  bounty  of  America.  Has  not  the  name  of  Englishmen 
blots  enough  upon  it  without  inventing  more  ?  Even  Lucifer 
would  scorn  to  reign  in  heaven  by  permission,  and  yet  an 
Englishman  can  creep  for  only  an  entrance  into  America. 
Or,  has  a  land  of  liberty  so  many  charms  that  to  be  door- 
keeper in  it  is  better  than  to  be  an  English  minister  of  state  ? 

But  what  can  this  expected  something  be  ?  Or,  if  obtained, 
what  can  it  amount  to,  but  new  disgraces,  contentions  and 
quarrels  ?  The  people  of  America  have  for  years  accustomed 
themselves  to  think  and  speak  so  freely  and  contemptuously  of 
English  authority,  and  the  inveteracy  is  so  deeply  rooted,  that 
a  person  invested  with  any  authority  from  that  country,  and 
attempting  to  exercise  it  here,  would  have  the  life  of  a  toad 
under  a  harrow.  They  would  look  on  him  as  an  interloper,  to 
whom  their  compassion  permitted  a  residence  He  would  be 
no  more  than  the  Mungo  of  a  farce;  and  if  he  disliked  that,  he 
must  set  off.  It  would  be  a  station  of  degradation,  debased  by 
our  pity,  and  despised  by  our  pride,  and  would  place  England 
in  a  more  contemptible  situation  than  any  she  has  yet  been  in 
during  the  war.  We  have  too  high  an  opinion  of  ourselves, 
ever  to  think  of  yielding  again  the  least  obedience  to  outlandish 
authority;  and  for  a  thousand  reasons,  England  would  be  the 
last  country  in  the  world  to  yield  it  to.  She  has  been  treacb- 


222  THE  CRISIS. 

erous,  and  we  knew  it.  Her  character  is  gone,  and  we  have 
seen  the  funeral. 

Surely  she  loves  to  fish  in  troubled  waters,  and  drink  the 
cup  of  contention,  or  she  would  not  now  think  of  mingling  her 
affairs  with  those  of  America.  It  would  be  like  a  foolish 
dotard  taking  to  his  arms  the  bride  that  despises  him,  or  who 
lias  placed  on  his  head  the  ensigns  of  her  disgust  It  is  kissing 
the  hand  that  boxes  his  ears,  and  proposing  to  renew  the  ex- 
change. The  thought  is  as  servile  as  the  war  is  wicked,  and 
shows  the  last  scene  of  the  drama  to  be  as  inconsistent  as  the 
first. 

As  America  is  gone,  the  only  act  of  manhood  is  to  let  her  go. 
Your  lordship  had  no  hand  in  the  separation,  and  you  will  gain 
no  honor  by  temporising  politics.  Besides,  there  is  something 
so  exceedingly  whimsical,  unsteady,  and  even  insincere  in  the 
present  conduct  of  England,  that  she  exhibits  herself  in  the 
most  dishonorable  colors. 

On  the  second  of  August  last,  General  Carleton  and  Admiral 
Digby  wrote  to  General  Washington  in  these  words: 

"The  resolution  of  the  House  of  Commons,  of  the  27th  of 
February  last,  has  been  placed  in  Your  Excellency's  hands,  and 
intimations  given  at  the  same  time  that  further  pacific  measures 
were  likely  to  follow.  Since  which,  until  the  present  time,  we 
have  had  no  direct  communications  with  England;  but  a  mail 
is  now  arrived,  which  brings  us  very  important  information. 
We  are  acquainted,  sir,  by  authority,  that  negotiations  for  a 
general  peace  have  already  commenced  at  Paris,  and  that  Mr. 
Grenville  is  invested  wit)i  full  powers  to  treat  with  all  the 
parties  at  war,  and  is  now  at  Paris  in  execution  of  his  com- 
mission. And  we  are  further,  sir,  made  acquainted,  that  his 
^fajesty,  in  order  to  remove  any  obstacles  to  that  peace  which  he 
so  ardently  wishes  to  restore,  has  commanded  his  ministers  to 
direct  Mr.  Grenville,  that  the  independence  of  the  Thirteen 
United  Provinces,  should  be  proposed  by  him  in  the  first  in- 
stance, instead  of  making  it  a  condition  of  a  general  treaty" 

Now,  taking  your  present  measures  into  view,  and  comparing 
them  with  the  declaration  in  this  letter,  pray  what  is  the  word 
of  your  king,  or  his  ministers,  or  the  parliament,  good  for? 
Must  we  not  look  upon  you  as  a  confederated  body  of  faithless, 
treacherous  men,  whose  assurances  are  fraud,  and  their  lan- 
guage deceit  1  What  opinion  can  we  possibly  form  of  you,  but 
that  you  are  a  lost,  abandoned,  profligate  nation,  who  sport 


THE  CHISIS.  223 

even  with  your  own  character,  and  are  to  be  held  by  nothing 
out  the  bayonet  or  the  halter  ? 

To  say,  after  this,  that  the  swn  of  Great  Britain  will  be  get 
whenever  she  acknowledges  the  independence  of  America,  when 
the  not  doing  it  is  the  unqualified  lie  of  Government,  can  be 
no  other  than  the  language  of  ridicule,  the  jargon  of  inconsist- 
ency. There  were  thousands  in  America  who  predicted  the 
delusion,  and  looked  upon  it  as  a  trick  of  treachery,  to  take  us 
from  our  guard,  and  draw  off  our  attention  from  the  only  sys- 
tem of  finance,  by  which  we  can  be  called,  or  deserve  to  be 
called,  a  sovereign,  independent  people.  The  fraud,  on  your 
part,  might  be  worth  attempting,  but  the  sacrifice  to  obtain  it 
is  too  high. 

There  are  others  who  credited  the  assurance,  because  they 
thought  it  impossible  that  men  who  had  their  characters  to 
establish,  would  begin  it  with  a  lie.  The  prosecution  of  the 
'.var  by  the  former  ministry  was  savage  and  horrid;  since 
which  it  has  been  mean,  trickish,  and  delusive.  The  one  went 
greedily  into  the  passion  of  revenge,  the  other  into  the  subtle- 
ties of  low  contrivance;  till,  between  the  crimes  of  both,  there 
is  scarcely  left  a  man  in  America,  be  he  whig  or  tory,  who  does 
not  despise  or  detest  the  conduct  of  Britain. 

The  management  of  Lord  Shelburne,  whatever  may  be  his 
views,  is  a  caution  to  us,  and  must  be  to  the  world,  never  to 
regard  British  assurances.  A  perfidy  so  notorious  cannot  be 
hid.  It  stands  even  in  the  public  papers  of  New  York,  with 
the  names  of  Carleton  and  Digby  affixed  to  it.  It  is  a  pro- 
clamation that  the  king  of  England  is  not  to  be  believed;  that 
the  spirit  of  lying  is  the  governing  principle  of  the  ministry. 
It  is  holding  up  the  character  of  the  House  of  Commons  to 
public  infamy,  and  warning  all  men  not  to  credit  them. 
Such  are  the  consequences  which  Lord  Shelburne's  manage- 
ment has  brought  upon  his  country. 

After  the  authorized  declarations  contained  in  Carleton  and 
Digby's  letter,  you  ought,  from  every  motive  of  honor,  policy 
and  prudence,  to  have  fulfilled  them,  whatever  might  have  been 
the  event.  It  was  the  least  atonement  that  you  could  possibly 
make  to  America,  and  the  greatest  kindness  you  could  do  to 
yourselves:  for  you  will  save  millions  by  a  general  peace,  and 
you  will  lose  as  many  by  continuing  the  war. 

COMMON  SENSE. 
Oct.  t9,  1738. 


224  THE  CRISIS. 

P.S. — The  manuscript  copy  of  this  letter  is  sent  your  lord- 
ship, by  the  way  of  our  headquarters,  to  New  York,  inclosing 
a  late  pamphlet  of  mine,  addressed  to  the  Abbe  Raynal,  which 
will  serve  to  give  your  lordship  some  idea  of  the  principles  and 
sentiments  of  America. 

C.  S. 


NUMBER  XV. 

"T^B  times  that  tried  men's  souls,"*  are  ov«r — and  the 
greatest  and  completest  revolution  the  world  «ver  knew,  glor- 
iously and  happily  accomplished. 

But  to  pass  from  the  extremes  of  danger  to  safety — from 
the  tumult  of  war  to  the  tranquillity  of  peace,  though  sweet  in 
contemplation,  requires  a  gradual  composure  of  the  senses  to 
receive  it.  Even  calmness  has  the  power  of  stunning,  when  it 
opens  too  instantly  upon  us.  The  long  and  raging  hurricane 
that  should  cease  in  a  moment,  would  leave  us  in  a  state  rather 
of  wonder  than  enjoyment;  and  some  moments  of  recollection 
must  pass,  before  we  could  be  capable  of  tasting  the  felicity  of 
repose.  There  are  but  few  instances  in  which  the  mind  is 
fitted  for  sudden  transitions:  it  takes  in  its  pleasures  by  reflec- 
tion and  comparison,  and  those  must  have  time  to  act,  before 
the  relish  for  new  scenes  is  complete. 

In  the  present  case  the  mighty  magnitude  of  the  object — the 
various  uncertainties  of  fate  it  has  undergone — the  numerous 
and  complicated  dangers  we  have  suffered  or  escaped — the 
eminence  we  now  stand  on,  and  the  vast  prospect  before  us, 
must  all  conspire  to  impress  us  with  contemplation. 

To  see  it  in  our  power  to  make  a  world  happy — to  teach 
mankind  the  art  of  being  so — to  exhibit,  on  the  theatre  of  the 
universe,  a  character  hitherto  unknown — and  to  have,  as  it 
were,  a  new  creation  instrusted  to  our  hands,  are  honors  that 
command  reflection,  and  can  neither  be  too  highly  estimated, 
nor  too  gratefully  received. 

In  this  pause  then  of  recollection — while  the  storm  is  ceas- 
ing, and  the  long-agitated  mind  vibrating  to  a  rest,  let  us  look 
back  on  the  scenes  we  have  passed,  and  learn  from  experience 
what  is  yet  to  be  done. 

*  "These  are  the  times  that  try  men's  soula."  "The  Criaii,  No.  1."  pub- 
lished December,  1776. 


THE  CRISIS.  225 

Nevei,  I  say,  had  a  country  so  many  openings  to  happiness 
as  this.  Her  setting  out  in  life,  like  the  rising  of  a  fair  morn- 
ing, was  unclouded  and  promising.  Her  cause  was  good.  Her 
principles  just  and  liberal.  Her  temper  serene  and  firm.  Her 
conduct  regulated  by  the  nicest  steps,  and  everything  about 
her  wore  the  mark  of  honor.  It  is  not  every  country  (perhaps 
there  is  not  another  in  the  world)  that  can  boast  so  fair  an 
origin.  Even  the  first  settlement  of  America  corresponds  with 
the  character  of  the  revolution.  Rome,  once  the  proud  mistress 
of  the  universe,  was  originally  a  band  of  ruffians.  Plunder  and 
rapine  made  her  rich,  and  her  oppression  of  millions  made  her 
great.  But  America  need  never  be  ashamed  to  cell  her  birth, 
nor  relate  the  stages  by  which  she  rose  to  empire. 

The  remembrance,  then,  of  what  is  past,  ii  °t  operates  rightly, 
must  inspire  her  with  the  most  laudable  of  a  ambition,  that  of 
adding  to  the  fair  fame  she  began  with.  The  world  has  seen 
her  great  in  adversity  Struggling  without  a  thought  ol  yield- 
ing, beneath  accumulated  difficulties.  Bravely,  nay  proudly, 
encountering  distress,  and  rising  in  resoJution  as  the  storm  in- 
creased. All  this  is  justly  due  to  her  for  her  fortitude  has 
merited  the  character.  Let  then,  the  world  see  that,  she  can 
bear  prosperity :  anu  tnat  her  honest  virtue  in  time  of  peace, 
is  equal  to  the  bravest  virtue  in  time  of  war. 

She  is  now  descending  tc  the  scenes  of  quiet  and  domestic 
life  Not  beneath  the  cypress  shade  of  disappointment,  but  to 
enjoy  in  her  own  land  and  under  her  own  vine,  the  sweet  of 
her  labors,  and  the  reward  of  her  toil. — In  this  situation,  may 
she  never  forget  that  a  fair  national  reputation  is  of  as  much  im- 
portance as  independence.  That  it  possesses  a  charm  that  wins 
upon  the  world,  and  makes  even  enemies  civil. — That  it  gives  a 
dignity  which  is  often  superior  to  power,  and  commands  rever- 
ence where  pomp  and  splendor  fail. 

It  would  be  a  circumstance  evei  to  be  lamented  and  never  to 
be  forgotten,  were  a  single  blot,  from  any  cause  whatever,  suf- 
fered to  fall  on  a  revolution,  which  to  the  end  of  time  must  be 
an  honor  to  the  age  that  accomplished  it:  and  which  has  con- 
tributed more  to  enlighten  the  world,  and  diffuse  a  spirit  of  free- 
dom and  liberality  among  mankind,  than  any  human  event  (if 
this  may  be  called  one)  that  ever  preceded  it. 

It  is  not  among  the  least  of  the  calamities  of  a  long-continued 
war  that  it  unhinges  the  mind  from  those  nice  sensations  which 
at  other  times  appear  so  amiable.  The  continued  spectacle  of 
15 


226  THE  CRISIS. 

woe  blunts  the  finer  feelings,  and  the  necessity  of  bearing  with 
the  sight,  renders  it  familiar.  In  like  manner,  are  many  of  the 
moral  obligations  of  society  weakened,  till  the  custom  of  acting 
by  necessity  becomes  an  apology,  wh«re  it  is  truly  a  crime. 
Yet  let  but  a  nation  conceive  rightly  of  its  character,  and  it  will 
be  chastely  j  ust  in  protecting  it.  None  never  began  with  a  fairer 
than  America,  and  none  can  be  under  a  greater  obligation  to 
preserve  it. 

The  debt  which  America  has  contracted,  compared  with  the 
cause  she  has  gained,  and  the  advantages  to  flow  from  it,  ought 
scarcely  to  be  mentioned.  She  has  it  in  her  choice  to  do,  and 
to  live  as  happy  as  she  pleases.  The  world  is  in  her  hands. 
She  has  no  foreign  power  to  monopolize  her  commerce,  perplex 
her  legislation,  or  control  her  prosperity.  The  struggle  is  over, 
which  must  one  day  have  happened,  and,  perhaps,  never  could 
have  happened  at  a  better  time.*  And  instead  of  a  domineering 

*  That  the  revolution  began  at  the  exact  period  of  time  best  fitted  to  the 
purpose,  is  sufficiently  proved  by  the  event. — But  the  great  hinge  on  which 
the  whole  machine  turned,  is  the  Union  of  the  States;  and  this  union  was 
naturally  produced  by  the  inability  of  any  one  state  to  support  itself  against 
any  foreign  enemy  without  the  assistance  of  the  rest. 

Had  the  states  severally  been  less  able  than  they  were  when  the  war  began, 
their  united  strength  would  not  have  been  equal  to  the  undertaking,  and  they 
must  in  all  human  probability  have  failed.  —And,  on  the  other  hand,  had  they 
severally  been  more  able,  they  might  not  have  seen,  or,  what  is  more,  might 
not  have  felt,  the  necessity  of  uniting:  and,  either  by  attempting  to  stand 
alone,  or  in  small  confederacies,  would  have  been  separately  conquered. 

Now,  as  we  cannot  see  a  time  (and  many  years  must  pass  away  before  it 
can  arrive)  when  the  strength  of  any  one  state,  or  several  united,  can  be  equal 
to  the  whole  of  the  present  United  States,  and  as  we  have  seen  the  extreme 
difficulty  of  collectively  prosecuting  the  war  to  a  successful  issue,  and  pre- 
serving our  national  importance  in  the  world,  therefore,  from  the  experience 
we  have  had,  and  the  knowledge  we  have  gained,  we  must,  unless  we  make  a 
waste  of  wisdom,  be  strongly  impressed  with  the  advantage,  as  well  as  the 
necessity  of  strengthening  that  happy  union  which  has  been  our  salvation, 
and  without  which  we  should  have  been  a  ruined  people. 

While  I  was  writing  this  note,  I  cast  my  eye  on  the  pamphlet,  ' '  Common 
Sense,"  from  which  I  shall  make  an  extract,  as  it  exactly  applies  to  the  case. 
It  is  as  follows : 

"  I  have  never  met  with  a  man,  either  in  England  or  America,  who  hath 
not  confessed  it  as  his  opinion  that  a  separation  between  the  countries  would 
take  place  one  time  or  other;  and  there  is  no  instance  in  which  we  have 
shown  less  judgment,  than  in  endeavoring  to  describe,  what  we  call,  the  ripe- 
ness or  fitness  of  the  continent  for  independence. 

"As  all  men  allow  the  measure,  and  differ  in  only  their  opinion  of  the 
time,  let  us,  in  order  to  remove  mistakes,  take  a  general  survey  of  things,  and 
endeavor,  if  possible,  to  find  out  the  very  time.  But  we  need  not  to  go  far, 
the  inquiry  ceases  at  once,  for  the  time  has  found  us.  The  general  concur- 
rence, the  glorious  union  of  all  things  prove  the  fact. 

"It  ii  not  in  numbers,  but  in  a  uuion,  that  our  great  strength  lies.    The  con. 


THE  CRISIS.  2'27 

master,  she  has  gained  an  ally,  whose  exemplary  greitness,  and 
universal  liberality,  have  extorted  a  confession  even  from  her 
enemies. 

With  the  blessings  of  peace,  independence,  and  an  universal 
commerce,  the  states,  individually  and  collectivelly,  will  have 
leisure  and  opportunity  to  regulate  and  establish  their  domestic 
concerns,  and  to  put  it  beyond  the  power  of  calumny  to  throw 
the  least  reflection  on  their  honor.  Character  is  much  easier 
kept  than  recovered,  and  that  man,  if  any  such  there  be,  who, 
from  sinister  views,  or  littleness  of  soul,  lends  unseen  his  hand 
to  injure  it,  contrives  a  wound  it  will  never  be  in  his  power  to 
heal 

As  we  have  established  an  inheritance  for  posterity,  let  that 
inheritance  descend  with  every  mark  of  an  honorable  convey- 
ance. The  little  it  will  cost,  compared  with  the  worth  of  the 
states,  the  greatness  of  the  object,  and  the  value  of  national  char- 
acter, will  be  a  profitable  exchange. 

But  that  which  must  more  forcibly  strike  a  thoughtful  pene- 
trating mind,  and  which  includes  and  renders  easy  all  inferior 
concerns,  is  the  Union  of  the  States.  On  this  our  great  national 
character  depends.  It  is  this  which  must  give  us  importance 
abroad  and  security  at  home.  It  is  through  this  only,  that  we 
are  or  can  be  nationally  known  in  the  world;  it  is  the  flag  of 
the  United  States  which  renders  our  ships  and  commerce  safe 
on  the  seas,  or  in  a  foreign  port.  Our  Mediterranean  passes 
must  be  obtained  under  the  same  style.  All  our  treaties, 
whether  of  alliance,  peace  or  commerce,  are  formed  under  the 
sovereignty  of  the  United  States,  and  Europe  knows  us  by  no 
other  name  or  title. 

The  division  of  the  empire  into  states  is  for  our  own  con- 
venience, but  abroad  this  distinction  ceases.  The  affairs  of  each 
state  are  local.  They  can  go  no  further  than  to  itself.  And 
were  the  whole  worth  of  even  the  richest  of  them  expended  in 
revenue,  it  would  not  be  sufficient  to  support  sovereignty 
against  a  foreign  attack.  In  short,  we  have  no  other  national 
sovereignty  than  as  United  States.  It  would  even  be  fatal  for 
us  if  we  had — too  expensive  to  be  maintained,  and  impossible 
to  be  supported.  Individuals,  or  individual  states,  may  call 
themselves  what  they  please;  but  the  world,  and  especially  the 

tinent  is  just  arrived  at  that  pitch  of  strength  in  which  no  single  colony  u 
able  to  support  itself,  and  the  whole,  when  united,  can  accomplish  the  mat- 
ter; and  either  more  or  less  than  this,  might  be  fatal  in  its  effects." 


-23  THE  CRISIS. 

world  of  enemies,  is  not  to  be  held  in  awe  by  the  whistling  of  a 
name.  Sovereignty  must  have  power  to  protect  all  the  parts 
that  compose  and  constitute  it;  and  as  UNITED  STATES  we  are 
equal  to  the  importance  of  the  title,  but  otherwise  we  are  not. 
Our  union,  well  and  wisely  regulated  and  cemented,  is  the 
cheapest  way  of  being  great— the  easiest  way  of  being  powerful, 
and  the  happiest  invention  in  government  which  the  circum- 
stances of  America  can  admit  of.  Because  it  collects  from  each 
state,  that  which,  by  being  inadequate,  can  be  of  no  use  to  it, 
and  forms  an  aggregate  that  serves  for  all. 

The  states  of  Holland  are  an  unfortunate  instance  of  the 
effects  of  individual  sovereignty.  Their  disjointed  condition 
exposes  them  to  numerous  intrigues,  losses,  calamities  and 
enemies;  and  the  almost  impossibility  of  bringing  their  measures 
to  a  decision,  and  that  decision  into  execution,  is  to  them,  and 
would  be  to  us,  ^  source  of  endless  misfortune. 

It  is  with  confederated  states  as  with  individuals  in  society ; 
something  must  be  yielded  up  to  make  the  whole  secure.  In 
this  view  of  things  we  gain  by  what  we  give,  and  draw  an 
annual  interest  greater  than  the  capital. — I  ever  feel  myself 
hurt  when  I  hear  the  union,  that  great  palladium  of  our  liberty 
and  safety,  the  least  irreverently  spoken  of.  It  is  the  most 
sacred  thing  in  the  constitution  of  America,  and  that  which 
every  man  should  be  most  proud  and  tender  of.  Our  citizen- 
ship in  the  United  States  is  our  national  character.  Our  citi- 
zenship in  any  particular  state  is  only  our  local  distinction. 
By  the  latter  we  are  known  at  home,  by  the  former  to  the 
world  Our  great  title  is  AMERICANS — our  inferior  one  varies 
with  the  place. 

So  far  as  my  endeavors  could  go,  they  have  all  been  directed 
r,o  conciliate  the  affections,  unite  the  interests,  and  draw  and 
keep  the  mind  of  the  country  together;  and  the  better  to  assist 
in  this  foundation  work  of  the  revolution,  I  have  avoided  all 
places  of  profit  or  office,  either  in  the  state  I  live  in,  or  in  the 
United  States;  kept  myself  at  a  distance  from  all  parties  and 
party  connexions,  and  even  disregarded  all  private  and  inferior 
concerns:  and  when  we  take  into  view  the  great  work  which  we 
have  gone  through,  and  feel,  as  we  ought  to  feel,  the  just  im- 
portance of  't,  we  shall  then  see,  that  the  -ittle  wranglings  and 
indecent  contentions  of  personal  parley,  are  as  dishonorable  to 
our  characters  as  they  are  injurious  to  our  repose. 

It  was  the  cause  jf  America  that  made  me  an  author.     The 


THE   CRISIS  229 

force  with  which  it  struck  my  mind,  and  the  dangerous  condi- 
tion the  country  appeared  to  me  in,  by  courting  an  impossible 
and  an  unnatural  reconciliation  with  those  who  were  deter- 
mined to  reduce  her,  instead  of  striking  out  into  the  only  line 
that  could  cement  and  save  her,  A  DECLARATION  OF  INDEPEN- 
DENCE, made  it  impossible  for  me,  feeling  as  I  did,  to  be  silent : 
and  if,  in  the  course  of  more  than  seven  years,  I  have  rendered 
her  any  service,  1  have  likewise  added  something  to  the  reputa- 
tion of  literature,  by  freely  and  disinterestedly  employing  it  in 
the  great  cause  of  mankind,  and  showing  that  there  may  be 
genius  without  prostitution. 

Independence  always  appeared  to  me  practicable  and  proba- 
ble ;  provided  the  sentiment  of  the  country  could  be  formed  and 
held  to  the  object:  and  there  is  no  instance  in  the  world,  where 
a  people  so  extended,  and  wedded  to  former  habits  of  thinking, 
and  under  such  a  variety  of  circumstances,  were  so  instantly 
and  effectually  pervaded  by  a  turn  in  politics,  as  in  the  case  of 
independence,  and  who  supported  their  opinion,  undiminished, 
through  such  a  succession  of  good  and  ill  fortune,  till  they 
crowned  it  with  success. 

But  as  the  scenes  of  war  are  closed,  and  every  man  preparing 
for  home  and  happier  times,  I  therefore  take  my  leave  of  the 
subject.  I  have  most  sincerely  followed  it  from  beginning  to 
end,  and  through  all  its  turns  and  windings  .  and  whatever 
country  I  may  hereafter  be  in,  I  shall  always  feel  an  honest 
pride  at  the  part  I  have  taken  and  acted,  and  a  gratitude  to 
nature  and  providence  for  putting  it  in  my  power  to  be  of  some 
use  to  mankind. 

COMMON  SENSE. 
PHILADELPHIA,  April  19th,  178S 


NUMBER  XVI. 
TO  THE  PEOPLE  OF  AMERICA. 

IN  "  Bivington's  New  York  Gazette,"  of  December  6th,  is  a 
publication,  under  the  appearance  of  a  letter  from  London, 
dated  September  30th;  and  is  on  a  subject  which  demands  the 
attention  of  the  United  States. 

The  public  will  remember  that  a  treaty  of  commerce  between 
the  United  States  and  England  was  set  on  foot  last  spring,  and 
that  until  the  said  treaty  could  be  completed,  a  bill  was  brought 


into  the  British  parliament  by  the  then  chancellor  of  the  ex- 
chequer, Mr.  Pitt,  to  admit  and  legalize  (as  the  case  then  re- 
quired) the  commerce  of  the  United  States  into  the  British  ports 
and  dominions.  But  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  has  been 
completed.  The  commercial  treaty  is  either  broken  off  or  re- 
mains as  it  began;  and  the  bill  in  parliament  has  been  thrown 
aside.  And  in  lieu  thereof  a  selfish  system  of  English  politics 
has  started  up,  calculated  to  fetter  the  commerce  of  America, 
by  engrossing  to  England  the  carrying  trade  of  the  American 
produce  to  the  West  India  islands. 

Among  the  advocates  for  this  last  measure  is  Lord  Sheffield, 
a  member  of  the  British  parliament,  who  has  published  a  pam- 
phlet entitled  "  Observations  on  the  Commerce  of  the  American 
States."  The  pamphlet  has  two  objects;  the  one  is  to  allure 
the  Americans  to  purchase  British  manufactures ;  and  the  other 
to  spirit  up  the  British  Parliament  to  prohibit  the  citizens  of 
the  United  States  from  trading  to  the  West  India  islands. 

Viewed  in  this  light,  the  pamphlet,  though  in  some  parts 
dexterously  written,  is  an  absurdity.  It  offends  in  the  very 
act  of  endeavoring  to  ingratiate ;  and  his  lordship,  as  a  politician, 
ought  not  to  have  suffered  the  two  objects  to  have  appeared 
together.  The  letter  alluded  to,  contains  extracts  from  the 
pamphlet,  with  high  encomiums  on  Lord  Sheffield,  for  labori- 
ously endeavoring  (as  the  letter  styles  it)  "  to  show  the  mighty 
advantages  of  retaining  the  carrying  trade." 

Since  the  publication  of  this  pamphlet  in  England,  the  com- 
merce of  the  United  States  to  the  West  Indies,  in  American 
vessels,  has  been  prohibited;  and  all  intercourse,  except  in 
British  bottoms,  the  property  of,  and  navigated  by  British 
subjects,  cut  off. 

That  a  country  has  a  right  to  be  as  foolish  as  it  pleases, 
has  been  proved  by  the  practice  of  England  for  many  years 
past:  in  her  island  situation,  sequestered  from  the  world,  she 
forgets  that  her  whispers  are  heard  by  other  nations;  and  in 
her  plans  of  politics  and  commerce,  she  seems  not  to  know,  that 
other  votes  are  necessary  besides  her  own.  America  would  be 
equally  as  foolish  as  Britain,  were  she  to  suffer  so  great  a 
degradation  on  her  flag,  and  such  a  stroke  on  the  freedom  of 
her  commerce,  to  pass  without  a  balance. 

We  admit  the  right  of  any  nation  to  prohibit  the  commerce  of 
another  into  its  own  dominions,  where  there  are  no  treaties  to 
the  contrary;  but  as  this  right  belongs  to  one  side  as  well  as 


THE   CRISIS.  231 

the  other,  there  is  always  a  way  left  to  bring  avarice  and  inso- 
lence to  reason. 

But  the  ground  of  security  which  Lord  Sheffield  has  chosen 
to  erect  his  policy  upon,  is  of  a  nature  which  ought,  and  I  think 
must,  awaken,  in  every  American,  a  just  and  strong  sense  of 
national  dignity,  Lord  Sheffield  appears  to  be  sensible,  that  in 
advising  the  British  nation  and  parliament  to  engross  to  them- 
selves so  great  a  part  of  the  carrying  trade  of  America,  he  is 
attempting  a  measure  which  cannot  succeed,  if  the  politics  of 
the  United  States  be  properly  directed  to  counteract  the  assump- 
tion. 

But,  says  he,  in  his  pamphlet,  "  It  will  be  a  long  time  before 
the  American  states  can  be  brought  to  act  as  a  nation,  neither 
are  they  to  be  feared  as  such  by  us." 

What  is  this  more  or  less  than  to  tell  us,  that  while  we  have 
no  national  system  of  commerce,  the  British  will  govern  our 
trade  by  their  own  laws  and  proclamations  as  they  please.  The 
quotation  disclose  a  truth  too  serious  to  be  overlooked,  and  too 
mischievous  not  to  be  remedied. 

Among  other  circumstances  which  led  them  to  this  discovery, 
none  could  operate  so  effectually  as  the  injudicious,  uncandid 
and  indecent  opposition  made  by  sundry  persons  in  a  certain 
state,  to  the  recommendations  of  congress  last  winter,  for  an 
import  duty  of  five  per  cent.  It  could  not  but  explain  to  the 
British  a  weakness  in  the  national  power  of  America,  and  en- 
courage them  to  attempt  restrictions  on  her  trade,  which  other- 
wise they  would  not  have  dared  to  hazard.  Neither  is  there 
any  state  in  the  union,  whose  policy  was  more  misdirected  to  its 
interest  that  the  state  I  allude  to,  because  her  principal  support 
is  the  carrying  trade,  which  Britain,  induced  by  the  want  of  a 
well-centred  power  in  the  United  States  to  protect  and  secure, 
is  now  attempting  to  take  away.  It  fortunately  happened  t^and 
to  no  state  in  the  union  more  than  the  state  in  question)  that 
the  terms  of  peace  were  agreed  on  before  the  opposition  appeared, 
otherwise,  there  cannot  be  a  doubt,  that  if  the  same  idea  of  the 
diminished  authority  of  America  had  occurred  to  them  at  that 
time  as  has  ocurred  to  them  since,  but  they  would  have  made 
the  same  grasp  at  the  fisheries,  as  they  have  done  at  the  carrying 
trade. 

It  is  surprising  that  an  authority  which  can  be  supported  with 
so  much  ease,  and  so  little  expense,  and  capable  of  such  exten- 
sive advantages  to  the  country  should  be  cavilled  at  by  those 


232  THE  CRISIS. 

whose  duty  it  is  to  watch  over  it,  and  whose  existence  as  a 
people  depends  upon  it.  But  this,  perhaps,  will  ever  be  the 
case,  till  some  misfortune  awakens  us  into  reason,  and  the  in- 
stance now  before  us  is  but  a  gentle  beginning  of  what  America 
must  expect,  unless  she  guards  her  union  with  nicer  care  and 
stricter  honor.  United,  she  is  formidable,  and  that  with  the 
least  possible  charge  a  nation  can  be  so:  separated,  she  is  a 
medley  of  individual  nothings,  subject  to  the  sport  of  foreign 
nations. 

It  is  very  probable  that  the  ingenuity  of  commerce  may  have 
iound  out  a  method  to  evade  and  supersede  the  intentions  of 
the  British,  in  interdicting  the  trade  with  the  West  India 
islands.  The  language  of  both  being  the  same,  and  their  customs 
well  understood,  the  vessels  of  one  country  may,  by  deception, 
pass  for  those  of  another.  But  this  would  be  a  practice  too 
debasing  for  a  sovereign  people  to  stoop  to,  and  too  profligate 
not  to  be  discountenanced.  An  illicit  trade,  under  any  shape 
it  can  be  placed,  cannot  be  carried  on  without  a  violation  of  truth. 
America  is  now  sovereign  and  independent,  and  ought  to  con- 
duct her  affairs  in  a  regular  style  of  character.  She  has  the 
same  right  to  say  that  no  British  vessel  shall  enter  her  ports,  or 
that  no  British  manufactures  shall  be  imported,  but  in  American 
bottoms,  the  property  of,  and  navigated  by  American  subjects, 
as  Britain  has  to  say  the  same  thing  respecting  the  West  Indies. 
Or  she  may  lay  a  duty  of  ten,  fifteen,  or  twenty  shillings  per 
ton  (exclusive  of  other  duties)  on  every  British  vessel  coming 
from  any  port  of  the  West  Indies,  where  she  is  not  permitted 
to  trade,  the  said  tonnage  to  continue  as  long  on  her  side  as  the 
prohibition  continues  on  the  other. 

But  it  is  only  by  acting  in  union,  that  the  usurpations  of 
foreign  nations  on  the  freedom  of  trade  can  be  counteracted,  and 
security  extended  to  the  commerce  of  America.  And  when  we 
view  a  flag,  which  to  the  eye  is  beautiful,  and  to  contemplate 
its  rise  and  origin  inspires  a  sensation  of  sublime  delight,  our 
national  honor  must  unite  with  our  interest  to  prevent  injury 
to  the  one,  or  insult  to  the  other. 

COMMON  SBNSB. 
NKW  YOBK,  December  9,  178S. 


END   OF   THE   CHISI3. 


RIGHTS    OF   MAN: 

BKTNO 

AN  ANSWER 

TO  MR.  BURKE'S  ATTACK  ON  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION. 
PART  L 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON, 

PRESIDENT  OP  TEE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMEBICA. 

Sra,- 

I  present  you  a  small  treatise  in  defence  of  those  principles  of  freedom 
which  your  exemplary  virtue  hath  so  eminently  contributed  to  establish. 
That  the  rights  of  man  may  become  as  universal  as  your  benevolence  can 
vishv  and  that  you  may  enjoy  the  happiness  of  seeing  the  new  world  regen- 
erate the  old,  is  the  prayer  of 
Sir, 

Your  mucn  obliged,  and 

Obedient  humble  servant, 

THOMAS  PAINE. 


RIGHTS  OF  MAN. 


PART  L 

AMONG  tfc«  iWvilities  by  which  nations  or  individuals  pro- 
voke and  iritaus  each  other,  Mr.  Burke's  pamphlet  on  the 
French  revolution  is  an  extraordinary  instance.  Neither  the 
people  of  France,  nor  the  national  assembly,  were  troubling 
themselves  abouc  the  affairs  of  England,  or  the  English  parlia- 
ment; and  why  Mr.  Burke  should  commence  an  unprovoked 
attack  upon  them,  both  in  parliament  and  in  public,  is  a  con- 
duct that  cannot  be  pardoned  on  the  score  of  manners,  nor 
justified  on  that  of  policy. 

There  is  scarcely  an  epithet  of  abuse  to  be  found  in  the  Eng- 
lish language,  with  which  Mr.  Burke  has  not  loaded  the  French 
nation  and  the  national  assembly.  Everything  which  rancor, 
prejudice,  ignorance  or  knowledge  could  suggest,  are  poured 
forth  in  the  copious  fury  of  near  four  hundred  pages.  In  the 
strain  and  on  the  plan  Mr.  Burke  was  writing,  he  might  have 
wrote  on  to  as  many  thousand.  When  the  tongue  or  the  pen 
is  let  loose  in  a  frenzy  of  passion,  it  is  the  man,  and  not  the 
subject  that  becomes  exhausted. 

Hitherto  Mr.  Burke  has  been  mistaken  and  disappointed  in 
the  opinions  he  has  formed  on  the  affairs  of  France;  but  such 
is  the  ingenuity  of  his  hope,  or  the  malignancy  of  his  despair, 
that  it  furnishes  him  with  new  pretences  to  go  on.  There  was 
a  time  when  it  was  impossible  to  make  Mr.  Burke  believe  there 
would  be  any  revolution  in  France.  His  opinion,  then  was, 
that  the  French  had  neither  spirit  to  undertake  it,  nor  forti- 
tude to  support  it ;  and  now  that  there  is  one,  he  seeks  an 
escape  by  condemning  it. 

Not  sufficiently  content  with  abusing  the  national  assembly, 
a  great  part  of  his  work  is  taken  up  with  abusing  Dr.  Price 
(one  of  the  best  hearted  men  that  exist)  and  the  two  societies 
in  England,  known  by  the  name  of  the  Revolution  and  the 
Constitutional  societies 

Dr.  Price  had 


233  BIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

1789,  being  the  anniversary  of  what  is  called  in  England  the 
revolution,  which  took  place  in  1688.  Mr.  Burke,  speaking  of 
this  sermon,  says,  "  the  political  divine  proceeds  dogmatically 
to  assert,  that,  by  the  principles  "  the  revolution,  the  people 
of  England  have  acquired  three  fundamental  right! 

1st,  To  choose  our  own  governors. 

2nd,  To  cashier  them  for  misconduct 

3rd,  To  frame  a  government  for  ourselves." 

Dr.  Price  does  not  say  that  the  right  to  do  these  things 
xists  in  this  or  in  that  person,  or  in  this  or  in  that  description  of 
persons,  but  that  it  exists  in  the  whole — that  it  is  a  right  resi- 
dent in  the  nation.  Mr.  Burke,  on  the  contrary,  denies  that 
such  a  right  exists  in  the  nation,  either  in  whole  or  in  part,  or 
that  it  exists  anywhere;  and  what  is  still  more  strange  and 
marvellous,  he  says,  that  "  the  people  of  England  utterly  dis- 
claim such  right,  and  that  they  will  resist  the  practical  assertion 
of  it  with  their  lives  and  fortunes."  That  men  will  take  up 
arms,  and  spend  their  lives  and  fortunes  not  to  maintain  their 
rights,  but  to  maintain  that  they  have  not  rights,  is  an  entire 
new  species  of  discovery,  and  suited  to  the  paradoxical  genius 
of  Mr.  Burke. 

The  method  which  Mr.  Burke  takes  to  prove  that  the  people 
of  England  have  no  such  rights,  and  that  such  rights  do  not 
exist  in  the  nation  either  in  whole  01  in  part,  or  anywhere  at 
all.  is  of  the  same  marvellous  and  monstrous  kind  with  what  he 
has  already  said,  for  his  arguments  are,  that  the  persons,  or  the 
generation  of  persons  in  whom  they  did  exist,  are  dead,  and 
with  them  the  right  is  dead  also.  To  prove  this,  he  quotes  a 
declaration  made  by  parliament  about  an  hundred  years  ago,  to 
William  and  Mary  in  these  words:  "The  lords  spiritual  and 
temporal,  and  commons,  do,  in  the  name  of  the  people  afore- 
said— (meaning  the  people  of  England  then  living) — most  hum- 
bly and  faithfully  submit  themselves,  their  heirs  and  posterity 
FOREVER  " — He  also  quotes  a  clause  of  another  act  of  parlia- 
ment made  in  the  same  reign,  the  terms  of  which,  he  says, 
•'  bind  us — (meaning  the  people  of  that  day) — our  heirs  and  our 
posterity \  to  them,  their  heirs  and  posterity,  to  the  end  of  them  " 

Mr.  Burke  considers  his  point  sufficiently  established  by  .pro- 
ducing those  clauses,  which  he  enforces  by  saying  that  they 
exclude  the  right  of  the  nation  forever ;  and  not  yet  content 
with  making  such  declarations,  repeated  over  and  over  again, 
he  £ urther  says,  "  that  if  the  people  of  England  possessed  such 


BIGHTS  OF  MAN.  239 

a  right  before  the  revolution  "  (which  he  cknowledges  to  have 
been  the  case,  not  only  in  England,  but  throughout  Europe  at 
an  early  period)  "  yet  that  the  English  nation  did,  at  the  time 
ef  the  revolution,  most  solemnly  renounce  and  abdicate  it,  for 
themselves,  and  for  all  their  prosterity  forever" 

As  Mr.  Burke  occasionally  applies  the  poison  drawn  from 
his  horrid  principles  (if  it  is  not  a  profanation  to  call  them  by 
the  name  of  principles)  not  only  to  the  E  glish  nation,  but  to 
the  French  revolution  and  the  national  assembly,  and  charges 
that  august,  illuminated  and  illuminating  body  of  men  with 
the  epithet  of  usurpers,  I  shall  sans  ceremonie,  place  another 
system  of  principles  in  opposition  to  his. 

The  English  parliament  of  1688  did  a  certain  thing,  which 
for  themselves  and  their  constituents,  they  had  a  right  to  do, 
and  which  appeared  right  should  be  done;  but,  in  addition  to 
this  right,  which  they  possessed  by  delegation,  they  set  up 
another  right  by  assumption,  that  of  binding  and  controlling 
posterity  to  the  end  of  time.  The  case,  therefore  livides  itself 
into  two  parts;  the  right  which  they  possessed  i  -  delegatio 
and  the  right  which  they  set  up  by  assumption  The  first  w 
admitted;  but  with  respect  to  the  second,  I  reply: — 

There  never  did,  nor  never  can  exist  a  parliament,  or  any 
description  of  men,  or  any  generation  of  men,  in  any  countr", 
possessed  of  the  right  or  the  power  of  binding  or  controlling 
posterity  to  the  "end  of  time,"  or  of  commanding  forever 
how  the  world  shall  be  governed,  or  who  shall  govern  it;  and 
therefore  all  such  clauses,  acts,  or  declarations,  by  which  the 
makers  of  them  attempt  to  do  what  they  have  neither  the  right 
nor  the  power  to  do,  nor  the  power  to  execute,  are  in  them- 
selves null  and  void.  Every  age  and  generation  mus+  be  as  free 
to  act  for  itself,  in  all  cases,  as  the  ages  and  generations  which 
preceded  it.  The  vanity  and  presumption  of  governing  beyond 
the  grave,  is  the  most  ridiculous  and  insolent  of  all  tyrannies. 
Man  has  no  property  in  man;  neither  has  any  generation  a 
property  in  the  generations  which  are  to  follow.  The  parlia- 
ment or  the  people  of  1688,  or  of  any  other  period,  had  no  more 
right  to  dispose  of  the  people  of  the  present  day,  or  to  bind  or 
to  control  them  in  any  shape  whatever  than  the  parliament  or 
the  people  of  the  present  day  have  to  dispose  of,  bind  or  con- 
trol those  who  ire  to  live  a  hundred  or  a  thousand  years 
hence.  Every  generation  is  and  must  be  competent  to  all  the 
purposes  which  its  occasions  require.  It  is  the  living  and  not 


240  EIGHTS   OF  MAN. 

the  dead,  that  ar«  to  be  accommodated.  When  man  ceases  to 
be,  his  powers  and  his  wants  cease  with  him ;  and  having  no 
longer  any  participation  in  the  concerns  of  this  world,  he  has 
no  longer  any  authority  in  directing  who  shall  be  its  governors, 
or  how  its  government  shall  be  organized,  or  how  administered. 

I  am  not  contending  for,  nor  against,  any  form  of  govern- 
ment, nor  for  nor  against  any  party,  here  or  elsewhere.  That 
which  a  whole  nation  chooses  to  do,  it  has  a  right  to  do.  Mr. 
Burke  denies  it.  Where  then  does  the  right  exist  1  I  am  con- 
tending for  the  right  of  the  living  and  against  their  being  willed 
away,  and  controlled  and  contracted  for,  by  the  manuscript- 
assumed  authority  of  the  dead ;  and  Mr.  Burke  is  contending 
for  the  authority  of  the  dead  over  the  rights  and  freedom  of 
the  living.  There  was  a  time  when  kings  disposed  of  their 
crowns  by  will  upon  their  death-beds,  and  consigned  the  people 
like  beasts  of  the  field,  to  whatever  successor  they  appointed. 
This  is  now  so  exploded  as  scarcely  to  be  remembered,  and  so 
monstrous  as  hardly  to  be  believed :  but  the  parliamentary 
clauses  upon  which  Mr.  Burke  builds  his  political  church  are 
of  the  same  nature. 

The  laws  of  every  country  must  be  analogous  to  some  com- 
mon principle.  In  England  no  parent  or  master,  nor  all  the 
authority  of  parliament,  omnipotent  as  it  has  called  itself,  can 
bind  or  control  the  personal  freedom  even  of  an  individual  be- 
yond the  age  of  twenty-one  years :  on  what  ground  of  right 
'hen  could  the  parliament  of  1688,  or  any  other  parliament, 
bind  all  posterity  for  ever  ? 

Those  who  have  quitted  the  world,  and  those  who  are  not 
arrived  yet  in  it,  are  as  remote  from  each  other  as  the  utmost 
stretch  of  mortal  imagination  can  conceive :  what  possible 
obligation  then  can  exist  between  them,  what  rule  or  principle 
can  be  laid  down,  that  two  nonentities,  the  one  out  of  exist- 
ence and  the  other  not  in,  and  who  never  can  meet  in  this  world, 
that  the  one  should  control  the  other  to  the  end  of  time  ^ 

In  England,  it  is  said  that  money  cannot  be  taken  out  of  the 
pockets  of  the  people  without  their  consent ;  but  who  author- 
ized, and  who  could  authorize  the  parliament  of  1688  to  con- 
trol and  take  away  the  freedom  of  posterity,  and  limit  and  con- 
fine their  ri^ht  of  acting  in  certain  cases  forever,  who  were  not 
in  existence  to  give  or  withnoid  tneir  consent » 

A.  greater  absurdity  cannot  present  itself  to  the  understand- 
ing of  man  than  what  Mr.  Burke  offers  to  his  readers.  He 


RIGHTS   OF  MAN.  241 

tells  them,  and  he  tells  the  world  to  come,  that  a  certain  body 
of  men,  who  existed  a  hundred  years  ago,  made  a  law,  and  that 
there  does  not  now  exist  in  the  nation,  nor  never  will  nor  never 
can,  a  power  to  alter  it.  Under  how  many  subtleties,  or  ab- 
surdities, has  the  divine  right  to  govern  been  imposed  on  the 
Credulity  of  mankind  :  Mr.  Burke  has  discovered  a  new  one, 
and  he  has  shortened  his  journey  to  Rome,  by  appealing  to  the 
power  of  this  infallible  parliament  of  former  days ;  and  he  pro- 
duces what  it  has  done  as  of  divine  authority ;  for  that  power 
must  be  certainly  more  than  human,  which  no  human  power  to 
the  end  of  time  can  alter. 

But  Mr.  Burke  has  done  some  service,  not  to  his  cause,  but 
to  his  country,  by  bringing  those  clauses  into  public  view.  They 
.serve  to  demonstrate  how  necessary  it  is  at  all  times  to  watch 
against  the  attempted  encroachment  of  power,  and  *o  prevent 
its  running  to  excess.  It  is  somewhat  extraordinary  that  the 
offence  for  which  James  II.  was  expelled,  that  of  setting  up 
power  by  assumption,  should  be  re-enacted  under  another  shape 
and  form  by  the  parliament  that  expelled  him.  It  shows  that 
the  rights  of  man  were  but  imperfectly  understood  at  the  re- 
volution ;  for  certain  it  is  that  the  right  which  that  parliament 
set  up  by  assumption  (for  by  delegation  it  had  not,  and  could 
not  have  it,  because  none  could  give  it)  over  the  persons  and 
freedom  of  posterity  forever,  was  of  the  same  tyrannical  un- 
founded kind  which  James  attempted  to  set  up  over  the  parlia- 
ment and  the  nation,  and  for  which  he  was  expelled. 

The  only  difference  is  (for  in  principle  they  differ  not)  that 
the  one  was  an  usurper  over  the  living,  and  the  other  over  the 
unborn ;  and  as  the  one  has  no  better  authority  to  stand  upon 
than  the  other,  both  of  them  must  be  equally  null  and  void, 
and  of  no  effect. 

From  what  or  whence  does  Mr.  Burke  prove  the  right  of  any 
human  power  to  bind  posterity  forever?  He  has  produced  his 
clauses ;  but  he  must  produce  also  his  proofs  that  such  a  right 
existed,  and  show  how  it  existed.  If  it  ever  existed  it  must 
now  exist ;  for  whatever  appertains  to  the  nature  of  man  can- 
not be  annihilated  by  man.  It  is  the  nature  of  man  to  die,  and 
he  will  continue  to  die  as  long  as  he  continues  to  be  born.  But 
Mr.  Burke  has  set  up  a  sort  of  political  Adam,  in  whom  all 
posterity  are  bound  forever ;  he  must  therefore  prove  that  his 
Adam  possessed  such  a  power  or  such  a  right. 

The  weaker  any  cord  is,  the  less  it  will  bear  to  be  ^  retched, 
16 


242  RIGHTS   OF  MAN. 

and  the  worse  is  the  policy  to  stretch  it  unless  it  is  intended  tr 
break  it.  Had  a  person  contemplated  the  overthrow  of  Mr 
Burke's  positions  he  would  have  proceeded  as  Mr.  Burke  has* 
done.  He  would  have  magnified  the  authorities  on  purpose  to 
have  called  the  right  of  them  into  question  ;  and  the  instant  the 
question  of  right  was  started  the  authorities  must  have  been 
given  up. 

It  requires  but  a  very  small  glance  of  thought  to  perceive 
that  although  laws  made  in  one  generation  often  continue  in 
force  through  succeeding  generations,  yet  they  continue  to  derive 
their  force  from  the  consent  of  the  living.  A  law  not  repealed 
continues  in  force,  not  because  it  cannot  be  repealed,  but.  because 
it  is  not  repealed ,  and  the  non-repealing  passes  for  consent. 

But  Mr.  Burke's  clauses  have  not  even  this  qualincation  in 
their  favor.  They  become  null  by  attempting  to  become  im- 
mortal. The  nature  of  them  precludes  consent.  They  destroy 
the  right  which  they  might  have  by  grounding  it  on  a  right 
which  they  cannot  have.  Immortal  power  is  not  a  human  right, 
and  therefore  cannot  be  a  right  of  parliament  The  parliament 
of  1688  might  as  well  have  passed  an  act  to  have  authorized 
itself  to  live  forever,  as  to  make  their  authority  live  forever. 
All,  therefore,  that  can  be  said  of  them  is  that  they  are  a  form- 
ality of  words  of  as  much  import  as  if  those  who  used  tnem  had 
addressed  a  congratulation  to  themselves,  and,  in  the  oriental 
style  of  antiquity,  had  said,  O  !  parliament,  live  for  ever  ! 

The  circumstances  of  the  world  are  continually  changing, 
and  the  opinions  of  men  change  also  ;  and  as  government  is  for 
the  living,  and  not  for  the  dead,  it  is  the  living  only  that  has 
any  right  in  it  That  which  may  be  thought  right  and  found 
convenient  in  one  age,  may  be  thought  wrong  and  found  incon- 
venient in  another.  In  such  cases,  who  is  to  decide,  the  living, 
or  the  dead  1 

As  almost  one  hundred  pages  of  Mr.  Burke's  book  are  em- 
ployed upon  these  clauses,  it  will  consequently  follow,  that  if 
the  clauses  themselves,  so  far  as  they  set  up  an  assumed,  usurped, 
dominion  over  posterity  forever,  are  unauthoritative,  and  in 
their  nature  null  and  void,  that  all  his  voluminous  inferences 
and  declamation  drawn  therefrom,  or  founded  thereon,  are  null 
and  void  also  :  and  on  this  ground  I  rest  the  matter. 

We  now  come  more  particularly  to  the  affairs  of  France. 
Mr.  Burke's  book  has  the  appearance  of  being  written  as  in- 
struction to  the  French  nation  :  but  if  I  may  permit  myself  the 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  243 

use  of  an  extravagant  metaphor,  suited  to  the  extravagance  of 
the  case,  it  is  darkness  attempting  to  illuminate  light. 

While  I  am  writing  this,  there  is  accidentally  before  me  some 
proposals  for  a  declaration  of  rights  by  the  Marquis  de  la  Fay- 
ette  (I  ask  his  pardon  for  using  his  former  address,  and  do  it 
only  for  distinction's  sake)  to  the  national  assembly  on  the  llth 
of  July,  1789,  three  days  before  the  taking  of  the  Bastile  ;  and 
I  cannot  but  be  struck  how  opposite  the  sources  are  from  which 
that  gentleman  and  Mr.  Burke  draw  their  principles.  Instead 
of  referring  to  musty  records  and  mouldy  parchments,  to  prove 
that  the  rights  of  the  living  are  lost,  "  renounced  and  abdicated 
forever"  by  those  who  are  now  no  more,  as  Mr.  Burke  has 
done,  M.  de  la  Fayette  applies  to  the  living  world,  and  emphat- 
ically says,  "  Call  to  mind  the  sentiments  which  nature  has  en- 
graved in  the  heart  of  every  citizen,  and  which  take  a  new 
force  when  they  are  solemnly  recognized  by  all ;  for  a  nation 
to  love  liberty,  it  is  sufficient  that  she  knows  it ;  and  to  be  free 
it  is  sufficient  that  she  wills  it."  How  dry,  barren  and  obscure, 
is  the  sourqe  from  which  Mr.  Burke  labors  ;  and  how  ineffec- 
tual, though  embellished  with  flowers,  is  all  his  declamation  and 
his  argument,  compared  with  these  clear,  concise  and  soul-ani- 
mating sentiments  :  few  and  short  as  they  are,  they  lead  on  to 
a  vast  field  of  generous  and  manly  thinking,  and  do  not  finish, 
like  Mr.  Burke's  periods,  with  music  in  the  ear,  and  nothing  in 
the  heart. 

As  I  have  introduced  the  mention  of  M.  de  la  Fayette,  I  will 
take  the  liberty  of  adding  an  anecdote  respecting  his  farewell 
address  to  the  congress  of  America  in  1783,  and  which  occurred 
fresh  to  my  mind  when  I  saw  Mv  Burke's  thundering  attack 
on  the  French  Revolution. — M.  de  la  Fayette  went  to  America 
at  an  early  period  of  the  war,  and  continued  a  volunteer  in  her 
service  to  the  end.  His  conduct  throughout  the  whole  of  that 
enterprise  is  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  that  is  to  be  found 
in  the  history  of  a  young  man,  scarcely  then  twenty  years  of 
age.  Situated  in  a  country  that  was  like  the  lap  of  sensual 
pleasure,  and  with  the  means  of  enjoying  it,  how  few  are  there 
to  be  found  that  would  exchange  such  a  scene  for  the  woods 
and  wilderness  of  America,  and  pass  the  flowery  years  of  youth 
in  unprofitable  danger  and  hardship  !  But  such  is  the  fact. 
When  the  war  ended,  and  he  was  on  the  point  of  taking  his 
final  departure,  he  presented  himself  to  congress,  and  contem- 
plating, in  his  affectionate  farewell,  the  revolution  he  had  seen, 


244  RIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

expressed  himself  in  these  words  :  "  May  this  great  monument 
raised  to  Liberty,  serve  as  a  lesson  to  tlie  oppressor,  and  an  ex- 
ample to  the  oppressed  /"  When  this  address  came  to  the  hands 
of  Dr.  Franklin,  who  was  then  in  France,  he  applied  to  Count 
Vergenues  to  have  it  inserted  in  the  French  "Gazette,"  but  never 
could  obtain  his  consent.  The  fact  was,  that  Count  Vergennes 
was  an  aristocratic  despot,  at  home,  and  dreaded  the  example 
of  the  Ame  ican  revolution  in  France,  as  certain  other  persons 
now  dread  the  example  of  the  French  revolution  in  England  j 
and  Mr.  Burke's  tribute  of  fear  (for  in  this  light  it  must  be 
considered)  runs  parallel  with  Count  Vergennes'  refusal.  But 
to  return  more  particularly  to  his  work. 

"  We  have  seen  (says  Mr.  Burke)  the  French  rebel  against 
a  mild  and  lawful  monarch,  with  more  fury,  outrage  and  insult, 
than  any  people  has  been  known  to  raise  against  the  most  il- 
legal usurper,  or  the  most  sanguinary  tyrant." — This  is  one 
among  a  thousand  other  instances,  in  which  Mr.  Burke  shows 
that  he  is  ignorant  of  the  springs  and  principles  of  the  French 
Revolution. 

It  was  not  against  Louis  XVI.  but  against  the  despotic  prin- 
ciples of  the  government,  that  the  nation  revolted.  These  prin- 
ciples had  not  their  origin  in  him,  but  in  the  original  establish 
ment,  many  centuries  back  ,  and  they  were  become  too  deeply 
rooted  to  be  removed,  and  the  Augean  stable  of  parasites  and 
plunderers  too  abominably  filthy  to  be  cleansed,  by  anything 
short  of  complete  and  universal  revolution. 

When  it  becomes  necessary  to  do  a  thing,  the  whole  heart 
should  join  in  the  measure,  or  it  should  not  be  attempted. 
That  crisis  was  then  arrived,  and  there  remained  no  choice  but 
to  act  with  determined  vigor  or  not  to  act  at  all.  The  king 
was  known  to  be  the  friend  of  the  nation,  and  this  circumstance 
was  favorable  to  the  enterprise.  Perhaps  no  man  brought  up 
in  the  style  of  an  absolute  king,  ever  possessed  a  heart  so  little 
disposed  to  the  exercise  of  that  species  of  power  as  the  present 
king  of  France.  But  the  principles  of  the  government  itself 
still  remained  the  same.  The  monarch  and  monarchy  were 
distinct  and  separate  things  ;  and  it  was  against  the  established 
despotism  of  the  latter,  and  not  against  the  person  or  principles 
of  the  former,  that  the  revolt  commenced,  and  the  revolution 
has  been  carried  on. 

Mr.  Burke  does  not  attend  to  this  distinction  between  men 
r^d  principles,  and  therefore  he  does  not  see  trial  a  revolt  may 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  245 

take  place  against  the  despotism  of  the  latter,  while  there  lies 
no  charge  of  despotism  against  the  former. 

The  natural  moderation  of  Louis  XVI.  contributed  nothing 
to  alter  the  hereditary  despotism  of  the  monarchy.  All  the 
tyrannies  of  former  reigns,  acted  under  that  hereditary  despot- 
ism, were  still  liable  to  be  revived  in  the  hands  of  a  successor. 
It  was  not  the  respite  of  a  reign  that  would  satisfy  France,  en- 
lightened as  she  was  then  become.  A  casual  discontinuance  of 
the  practice  of  despotism,  is  not  a  discontinuance  of  its  prin- 
ciples ;  the  former  depends  on  the  virtue  of  the  individual  who 
is  in  immediate  possession  of  the  power  ;  the  latter,  on  the 
virtue  and  fortitude  of  the  nation.  In  the  case  of  Charles  I. 
and  James  II.  of  England,  the  revolt  was  against  the  personal 
despotism  of  the  men ;  whereas  in  France  it  was  against  the  here- 
ditary despotism  of  the  established  government.  But  men  who 
can  consign  over  the  rights  of  posterity  forever  on  the  authority 
of  a  mouldy  parchment,  like  Mr.  Burke,  are  not  qualified  to 
judge  of  this  revolution.  It  takes  in  a  field  too  vast  for  their 
views  to  explore,  and  proceeds  with  a  mightiness  of  reason  they 
cannot  keep  pace  with. 

But  there  are  many  points  of  view  in  which  this  revolution 
may  be  considered.  When  despotism  has  established  itself  for 
ages  in  a  country,  as  in  France,  it  is  not  in  the  person  of  the 
king  only  that  it  resides.  It  has  the  appearance  of  being  so  in 
show,  and  in  nominal  authority  .  but  it  is  not  so  in  practice, 
and  in  fact.  It  has  its  standard  everywhere.  Every  office 
and  department  has  its  despotism,  founded  upon  custom  and 
usage.  Every  place  has  its  Bastile,  and  every  Bastile  its  des- 
pot. The  original  heriditary  despotism  resident  in  the  person 
of  the  king,  divides  and  sub-divides  itself  into  a  thousand 
shapes  and  forms,  till  at  last  the  whole  of  it  is  acted  by  depu- 
tation.— This  was  the  case  in  France  ;  and  against  this  species 
of  despotism,  proceeding  on  through  an  endless  labyrinth  of 
office  till  the  source  of  it  is  scarcely  perceptible,  there  is  no 
mode  of  redress.  It  strengthens  itself  by  assuming  the  appear- 
ance of  duty,  and  tyrannizes  under  the  pretence  of  obeying. 

When  a  man  reflects  on  the  condition  which  France  was  in 
from  the  nature  of  her  government,  he  will  see  other  causes  for 
revolt  than  those  which  immediately  connect  themselves  with 
the  person  or  character  of  Louis  XVI. — There  were,  if  I  may 
so  express  it,  a  thousand  despotisms  to  be  reformed  in  France, 
which  had  grown  up  under  the  hereditary  despotism  of  the 


246  BIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

monarchy,  -  »> "  become  so  rooted  as  to  be  in  a  great  measure  inde- 
pendent of  it.  Between  the  monarchy,  the  parliament,  and  the 
church,  there  was  a  rivalship  of  despotism  :  besides  the  feudal 
despotism  operating  locally,  and  the  ministerial  despotism  op- 
erating everywhere.  But  Mr.  Burke  by  considering  the  king 
as  the  only  possible  object  of  a  revolt,  speaks  as  if  France  was 
a  village,  in  which  everything  that  passed  must  be  known  to  its 
commanding  officer,  and  no  oppression  could  be  acted  but  what 
he  could  immediately  control.  Mr.  Burke  might  have  been  in 
the  Bastile  his  whole  life,  as  well  under  Louis  XVI.  as  Louis 
XIV.,  and  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  have  known  that  such 
a  man  as  Mr.  Burke  existed.  The  despotic  principles  of  the 
government  were  the  same  in  both  reigns,  though  the  disposi- 
tions of  the  men  were  as  remote  as  tyranny  and  benevolence. 

What  Mr.  Burke  considers  as  a  reproach  to  the  French  revo- 
lution, that  of  bringing  it  forward  under  a  reign  more  mild 
than  the  preceding  ones,  is  one  of  its  highest  honors.  The  re- 
volutions that  have  taken  place  in  other  European  countries, 
have  been  excited  by  personal  hatred.  The  rage  was  against 
the  man,  and  he  became  the  victim.  But,  in  the  instance  of 
France,  we  see  a  revolution  generated  in  the  rational  contem- 
plation of  the  rights  of  man,  and  distinguishing  from  the  be- 
ginning between  persons  and  principles. 

But  Mr.  Burke  appears  to  have  no  idea  of  principles,  when 
he  is  contemplating  governments.  "  Ten  years  ago,"  says  he, 
"  I  could  have  felicitated  France  on  her  having  a  government, 
without  inquiring  what  the  nature  of  that  government  was  or 
how  it  was  administered."  Is  this  the  language  of  a  rational 
man  1  Is  it  the  language  of  a  heart  feeling  as  it  ought  to  feel 
for  the  rights  and  happiness  of  the  human  race?  On  this 
ground,  Mr.  Burke  must  compliment  every  government  in  the 
world,  while  the  victims  who  suffer  under  them,  whether  sold 
into  slavery  or  tortured  out  of  existence,  are  wholly  forgotten. 
It  is  power  and  not  principles,  that  Mr.  Burke  venerates  ;  and 
under  this  abominable  depravity,  he  is  disqualified  to  judge 
between  them.  Thus  much  for  his  opinion  as  to  the  occasion  of 
of  the  French  revolution.  I  now  proceed  to  other  considertions. 

I  know  a  place  in  America  called  Point-no-Point ;  because  as 
you  proceed  along  the  shore,  gay  and  flowery  as  Mr.  Burke's 
language,  it  continually  recedes,  and  presents  itself  at  a  dis- 
tance a-head;  and  when  you  have  got  as  far  as  you  can  go, 
there  is  no  point  at  all.  Just  thus  is  it  with  Mr.  Burke'a 


EIGHTS   OF  MAN.  247 

three  hundred  and  fifty-six  pages.  It  is  therefore  difficult  to 
reply  to  him.  But  as  the  points  that  he  wishes  to  establish 
may  be  inferred  from  what  he  abuses,  it  is  in  his  paradoxes 
that  we  must  look  for  his  arguments. 

As  to  the  tragic  paintings  by  which  Mr.  Burke  has  outraged 
his  own  imagination,  and  seeks  to  work  upon  that  of  his  read- 
ers, they  are  very  well  calculated  for  theatrical  representation, 
where  facts  are  manufactured  for  the  sake  of  show,  and  ac- 
commodated to  produce,  through  the  weakness  of  sympathy,  a 
weeping  effect.  But  Mr.  Burke  should  recollect  that  he  is 
writing  history,  and  not  plays;  and  that  his  readers  will  expect 
truth,  and  not  the  spouting  rant  of  high-toned  declamation. 

When  we  see  a  man  dramatically  lamenting  in  a  publication 
intended  to  be  believed,  that  "  The  age  of  chivalry  is  gone;" 
that  "  the  glory  of  Europe  is  extinguished  forever ;"  that  "  the 
unbought  grace  of  life  (if  any  one  knows  what  it  is,)  the  cheap 
defence  of  nations,  the  nurse  of  manly  sentiment  and  heroic  en- 
terprise is  gone!"  And  all  this  because  the  Quixotic  age  of 
chivalric  nonsense  is  gone,  what  opinion  can  we  form  of  his 
judgment,  or  what  regard  can  we  pay  to  his  facts'?  In  the 
rhapsody  of  his  imagination,  he  has  discovered  a  world  of 
windmills,  and  his  sorrows  are,  that  there  are  no  Quixotes  to 
attack  them.  But  if  the  age  of  aristocracy  like  that  of  chivalry, 
should  fall,  and  they  had  originally  some  connection,  Mr.  Burke, 
the  trumpeter  of  the  order,  may  continue  his  parody  to  the  end, 
and  finish  with  exclaiming — "  Othello's  occupation's  gone!" 

Notwithstanding  M*-  Burke's  horrid  paintings,  when  the 
French  revolution  is  compared  with  that  of  other  countries,  the 
astonishment  will  be,  that  it  is  marked  with  so  few  sacrifices; 
but  this  astonishment  will  cease  when  we  reflect  that  it  was 
principles,  and  not  persons,  that  were  the  meditated  objects  of 
destruction  The  mind  of  the  nation  was  acted  upon  by  a 
higher  stimulus  than  what  the  consideration  of  persons  could 
inspire,  and  sought  a  higher  conquest  than  could  be  produced 
by  the  downfall  of  an  enemy  -  Among  the  few  who  fell,  there 
do  not  appear  to  be  any  that  were  intentionally  singled  out. 
They  all  of  them  had  their  fate  in  the  circumstances  of  the  mo- 
ment, and  were  not  pursued  with  that  long,  cold-blooded,  un- 
abated revenge  which  pursued  the  unfortunate  Scotch,  in  the 
affair  of  1745. 

Through  the  whole  of  Mr.  Burke's  book  I  do  not  observe 
fa*  the  Bastile  is  mentioned  more  than  once,  and  that  with  a 


248  RIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

kind  of  implication  as  if  he  was  sorry  it  is  pulled  down,  and 
wished  it  was  built  up  again.  "  We  have  rebuilt  Newgate  (says 
he)  and  tenanted  the  mansion;  and  we  have  prisons  almost  as 
strong  as  the  Bastile  for  those  who  dare  to  libel  the  Queen  of 
France."*  As  to  what  a  madman,  like  the  person  called  Lord 
George  Gordon,  might  say,  and  to  whom  Newgate  is  rather  a 
bedlam  than  a  prison,  it  is  unworthy  a  rational  consideration. 
It  was  a  madman  that  libelled — and  that  is  sufficient  apology, 
and  it  afforded  an  opportunity  for  confining  him,  which  was  the 
thing  wished  for:  but  certain  it  is  that  Mr.  Burke,  who  does 
not  call  himself  a  madman,  whatever  other  people  may  do,  has 
libelled,  in  the  most  unprovoked  manner,  and  in  the  grossest 
style  of  the  most  vulgar  abuse,  the  whole  representative  author- 
ity of  France;  and  yet  Mr.  Burke  takes  his  seat  in  the  British 
House  of  Commons ! — From  his  violence  and  his  grief,  his 
silence  on  some  points  and  his  excess  on  others,  it  is  difficult 
not  to  believe  that  Mr.  Burke  is  sorry,  extremely  sorry,  that 
arbitrary  power,  the  power  of  the  pope  and  the  Bastile,  are 
pulled  down. 

Not  one  glance  of  compassion,  not  one  commiserating  reflec- 
tion, that  I  can  find  throughout  his  book,  has  he  bestowed  on 
those  that  lingered  out  the  most  wretched  of  lives,  a  life  without 
hope,  in  the  most  miserable  of  prisons.  It  is  painful  to  behold 
a  man  employing  his  talents  to  corrupt  himself.  Nature  has 
been  kinder  to  Mr  Burke  than  he  has  to  her.  He  is  not 
affected  by  the  reality  of  distress  touching  upon  his  heart,  but 
by  the  showy  resemblance  of  it  striking  his  imagination.  He 
pities  the  plumage  but  forgets  the  dying  bird.  Accustomed  to 
kiss  the  aristocratical  hand  that  hath  purlioned  him  from  him- 
self, he  degenerates  into  a  composition  of  art,  and  the  genuine 
soul  of  nature  forsakes  him.  His  hero  or  his  heroine  must  be 
a  tragedy-victim  expiring  in  show,  and  not  the  real  prisoner  of 
misery,  sliding  into  death  in  the  silence  of  a  dungeon. 

*  Since  writing  the  above,  two  other  places  occur  in  Mr.  Blake's  pamphlet 
in  which  the  name  of  Bastile  is  mentioned,  but  in  the  same  manner.  In  the 
one,  he  introduces  it  in  a  sort  of  obscure  question,  and  asks — "Will  any 
ministers  who  now  serve  such  a  king  with  but  a  decent  appearance  of  re- 
spect, cordially  obey  the  orders  of  those  whom  but  the  other  day,  in  his 
name,  they  had  committed  to  the  Bastile?"  In  the  other  the  taking  it  is 
mentioned  as  implying  criminality  in  the  French  guards  who  assisted  in 
demolishing  it— "They  have  not, "says  he,  "forgot  the  taking  the  king's 
castles  at  Paris. "  Thia  is  Mr.  Burke,  who  pretends  to  write  on  constitu- 
tional freedom. 


RIGHTS  OF  MAN.  249 

As  Mr.  Burke  has  passed  over  the  whole  transaction  of  the 
Bastile  (and  his  silence  is  nothing  in  his  favor)  and  has  enter- 
tained his  readers  with  reflections  on  supposed  facts,  distorted 
into  real  falsehoods,  I  will  give,  since  he  has  not,  some  account 
of  the  circumstances  which  preceded  that  transaction.  They 
will  serve  to  show  that  less  mischief  could  scarce  have  accom- 
panied such  an  event  when  considered  with  the  treacherous 
and  hostile  aggravations  of  the  enemies  of  the  revolution. 

The  mind  can  hardly  picture  to  itself  a  more  tremendous 
scene  than  what  the  city  of  Paris  exhibited  at  the  time  of  tak- 
ing the  Bastile,  and  for  two  days  before  and  after,  nor  conceive 
the  possibility  of  its  quieting  so  soon.  At  a  distance,  this 
transaction  has  appeared  only  as  an  act  of  heroism  standing  on 
Itself :  and  the  close  political  connexion  it  had  with  the  revo- 
'ution  is  lost  in  the  brilliancy  of  the  achievement.  But  we  are 
to  consider  it  as  the  strength  of  the  parties,  brought  man  to 
oian,  and  contending  for  the  issue.  The  Bastile  was  to  be 
either  the  prize  or  the  prison  of  the  assailants.  The  downfall 
of  it  included  the  idea  of  the  downfall  of  despotism  ;  and  this 
compounded  image  was  become  as  figuratively  united,  as  Bun- 
y-an's  Doubting  Castle  and  giant  Despair. 

The  national  assembly  before  and  at  the  time  of  taking  the 
Bastile,  were  sitting  at  Versailles,  twelve  miles  distant  from 
Paris.  About  a  week  before  the  rising  of  the  Parisians  and 
their  taking  the  Bastile,  is  was  discovered  that  a  plot  was 
forming,  at  the  head  of  which  was  the  count  d'Artois,  the  king's 
youngest  brother,  for  demolishing  the  national  assembly,  seizing 
its  members,  and  thereby  crushing,  by  a  coup  de  main,  all  hopes 
and  prospects  of  forming  a  free  government.  For  the  sake  of 
humanity,  as  well  as  of  freedom,  it  is  well  this  plan  did  not 
succeed.  Examples  are  not  wanting  to  show  how  dreadfully 
vindictive  and  cruel  are  all  old  governments,  when  they  are 
successful  against  what  they  call  a  revolt. 

This  plan  must  have  been  some  time  in  contemplation  ;  be- 
cause, in  order  to  carry  it  into  execution,  it  was  necessary  to 
collect  a  large  military  force  round  Paris,  and  to  cut  ofi  the 
communication  between  that  city  and  the  national  assembly  at 
Versailles.  The  troops  destined  for  this  service  were  chiefly 
the  foreign  troops  in  the  pay  of  France,  and  who  for  this  par- 
ticular purpose,  were  drawn  from  the  distant  provinces  where 
they  were  then  stationed.  When  they  were  collected,  to  the 
amount  of  between  twenty-five  and  thirty  thousand,  it  waa 


250  BIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

judged  time  to  put  the  plan  in  execution.  The  ministry  who 
were  then  in  office,  and  who  were  friendly  to  the  revolution, 
were  instantly  dismissed,  and  a  new  ministry  formed  of  those 
who  had  concerted  the  project: — among  who  was  count  de 
Broglio,  and  to  his  share  was  given  the  command  of  those 
troops.  The  character  of  this  man,  as  described  to  me  in  a 
letter  which  I  communicated  to  Mr.  Burke  before  he  began  to 
write  his  book,  and  from  an  authority  which  Mr.  Burke  well 
knows  was  good,  was  that  of  "  a  high  flying  aristocrat,  cool, 
and  capable  of  every  mischief." 

While  these  matters  were  agitating,  the  national  assembly 
stood  in  the  most  perilous  and  critical  situation  that  a  body  of 
men  can  be  supposed  to  act  in.  They  were  the  devoted  victims, 
and  they  knew  it.  They  had  the  hearts  and  wishes  of  their 
conntry  on  their  side,  but  military  authority  they  had  none. 
The  guards  of  Broglio  surrounded  the  hall  where  the  assembly 
sat,  ready,  at  the  word  of  command,  to  seize  their  persons,  as 
had  been  done  the  year  before  to  the  parliament  in  Paris. 
Had  the  national  assembly  deserted  their  trust,  or  had  they 
exhibited  signs  of  weakness  or  fear,  their  enemies  had  been 
encouraged,  and  the  country  depressed.  When  the  situation 
they  stood  in,  the  cause  they  were  engaged  in,  and  the  crisis 
then  ready  to  burst  w,hich  would  determine  their  personal  and 
political  fate,  and  that  of  their  country,  and  probably  of  Europe, 
are  taken  into  one  view,  none  but  a  heart  callous  with  prejudice, 
or  corrupted  by  dependence,  can  avoid  interesting  itself  in  their 
success. 

The  archbishop  of  Vienna  was  at  this  time  president  of  the 
national  assembly  ;  a  person  too  old  to  undergo  the  scene  that 
a  few  days,  or  a  few  hours,  might  bring  forth.  A  man  of  more 
activity,  and  bolder  fortitude,  was  necessary ;  and  the  national 
assembly  chose  (under  the  form  of  vice-president,  for  the  presi- 
dency still  rested  in  the  archbishop)  M.  de  la  Fayette  ;  and  this 
is  the  only  instance  of  a  vice-president  being  chosen.  It  was 
at  the  moment  this  storm  was  pending,  July  11,  that  a  declara- 
tion of  rights  was  brought  forward  by  M.  de  la  Fayette,  and 
is  the  same  which  is  alluded  to  in  page  51.  It  was  hastily 
drawn  up,  and  makes  only  a  part  of  a  more  extensive  declara- 
tion of  rights,  agreed  upon  and  adopted  afterwards  by  the 
national  assembly.  The  particular  reason  for  bringing  it  for- 
ward at  this  moment  (M.  de  la  Fayette  has  since  informed  mev; 
was,  that  if  the  national  assembly  should  fall  in  the  threatened 


RIGHTS  OF  MAN.  251 

destruction  that  then  surrounded  it,  some  trace  of  its  principles 
might  have  a  chance  of  surviving  the  wreck. 

Everything  was  now  drawing  to  a  crisis.  The  event  was 
freedom  or  slavery.  On  one  side  an  army  of  nearly  thirty 
thousand  men  ;  on  the  other  an  unarmed  body  of  citizens,  for 
the  citizens  of  Paris  on  whom  the  national  assembly  must  then 
immediately  depend,  were  as  unarmed  and  undisciplined  as  the 
citizens  of  London  are  now.  The  French  guards  had  given 
strong  symptoms  of  their  being  attached  to  the  nationnl  cause ; 
but  their  numbers  were  small,  not  a  tenth  part  of  the  force 
which  Broglio  commanded,  and  their  officers  were  in  the  interest 
of  Broglio. 

Matters  being  now  ripe  for  execution,  the  new  ministry  made 
their  appearance  in  office.  The  reader  will  carry  in  his  mind, 
that  the  Bastile  was  taken  the  14th  of  July  :  the  point  of  time 
I  am  now  speaking  to,  is  the  12th.  As  soon  as  the  news  of 
the  change  of  ministry  reached  Paris  in  the  afternoon,  all  the 
play-houses  and  places  of  entertainment,  shops  and  houses, 
were  shut  up.  The  change  of  ministry  was  considered  as  the 
prelude  of  hostilities,  and  the  opinion  was  rightly  founded. 

The  foreign  troops  began  to  advance  towards  the  city.  Th« 
prince  de  Lambesc,  who  commanded  a  body  of  German  cavalry, 
approached  by  the  palace  of  Louis  XV.  which  connects  itself 
with  some  of  the  streets.  In  his  march  he  insulted  and  struck 
an  old  man  with  his  sword.  The  French  are  remarkable  for 
their  respect  to  old  age,  and  the  insolence  with  which  it  ap- 
peared to  be  done,  uniting  with  the  general  fermentation  they 
were  in,  produced  a  powerful  effect,  and  a  cry  of  to  arms/  to 
arms  !  spread  itself  in  a  moment  over  the  whole  city. 

Arms  they  had  none,  nor  scarcely  any  who  knew  the  use  of 
them;  but  desperate  resolution,  when  every  hope  is  at  stake  sup- 
plies, for  a  while,  the  want  of  arms.  Near  where  the  prince  de 
Lambesc  was  drawn  up,  were  large  piles  of  stones  collected  for 
building  the  new  bridge,  and  with  these  the  people  attacked  the 
cavalry.  A  party  of  the  French  guards,  upon  hearing  the  tir- 
ing, rushed  from  their  quarters  and  joined  the  people;  and  night 
coming  on,  the  cavalry  retreated. 

The  streets  of  Paris,  being  narrow,  are  favorable  for  defence ; 
and  the  loftiness  of  the  houses,  consisting  of  many  stories,  from 
which  great  annoyance  might  be  given,  secured  them  against 
nocturnal  enterprises;  and  the  night  was  spent  in  providing 
themselves  with  every  sort  of  weapon  they  could  make  or  pro- 


252  BIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

cure:  guns,  swordt,  blacksmiths'  hammers,  carpenters'  axes,  iron 
crows,  pikes,  halberds,  pitchforks,  spits,  clubs,  <fec. 

The  incredible  numbers  with  which  they  assembled  the  next 
morning,  and  the  still  more  incredible  resolution  they  exhibited 
embarrassed  and  astonished  their  enemies.  Little  did  the  ne\v 
ministry  expect  such  a  salute.  Accustomed  to  slavery  them- 
selves, they  had  no  idea  that  liberty  was  capable  of  such  in- 
spiration, or  that  a  bo'dy  of  unarmed  citizens  would  dare  face 
the  military  force  of  thirty  thousand  men.  Every  moment  of 
this  day  was  employed  in  collecting  arms,  concerting  plans,  and 
arranging  themselves  in  the  best  order  which  such  an  instan- 
taneous movement  could  afford.  Broglio  continued  lying  around 
the  city,  but  made  no  further  advances  this  day,  and  the  suc- 
ceeding night  passed  with  as  much  tranquillity  as  much  a  scene 
could  possibly  produce. 

But  the  defence  only  was  not  the  object  of  the  citizens.  They 
had  a  cause  at  stake,  on  which  depended  their  freedom  or  their 
slavery.  They  every  moment  expected  an  attack,  or  to  hear  of 
one  made  on  the  national  assembly ;  and  in  such  a  situation,  the 
most  prompt  measures  are  sometimes  the  best.  The  object  that 
now  presented  itself,  was  the  Bastile;  and  the  eclat  of  carrying 
such  a  fortress  in  the  face  of  sueh  an  army,  could  not  fail  to 
strike  terror  into  the  new  ministry,  who  had  scarcely  yet  had 
time  to  meet.  By  some  intercepted  correspondence  this  mor- 
ning, it  was  discovered  that  the  mayor  of  Paris,  M.  de  Flesseles, 
who  appeared  to  be  in  their  interest,  was  betraying  them;  and 
from  this  discovery  there  remained  no  doubt  that  Broglio  would 
reinforce  the  Bastile  the  ensuing  evening.  It  was  therefore 
necessary  to  attack  it  that  day;  but  before  this  could  be  done 
it  was  first  necessary  to  procure  a  better  supply  of  arms  than 
they  were  then  possessed  of. 

There  was,  adjoining  to  the  city,  a  large  magazine  of  arms 
deposited  at  the  hospital  of  the  invalids,  which  the  citizens 
summoned  to  surrender;  and  as  the  place  was  not  defensible, 
nor  attempted  much  defence,  they  soon  succeeded.  Thus  sup- 
plied, they  marched  to  attack  the  Bastile;  a  vast  mixed  multi- 
tude of  all  ages  and  of  all  degrees,  and  armed  with  all  sorts  of 
weapons.  Imagination  would  fail  of  describing  to  itself  the 
appearance  of  such  a  procession,  and  of  the  anxiety  for  the 
events  which  a  few  hours  or  a  few  minutes  might  produce. 
What  plans  the  ministry  was  forming,  were  as  unknown  to  the 
people  within  the  city,  as  what  the  citizens  were  doing  was  un- 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  253 

known  to  them;  and  what  movements  Broglio  might  make  for 
the  support  or  relief  of  the  place,  were  to  the  citizens  equally 
unknown.  All  was  mystery  and  hazard. 

That  the  Bastile  was  attacked  with  an  enthusiasm  of  heroism, 
.such  only  as  the  highest  animation  of  liberty  could  inspire,  and 
i-arried  in  the  space  of  a  few  hours,  is  an  event  which  the  world 
is  fully  possessed  of.  I  am  not  undertaking  a  detail  of  the 
attack,  but  bringing  into  view  the  conspiracy  against  the  nation 
which  provoked  it,  and  which  fell  with  the  Bastile.  The  prison 
to  which  the  new  ministry  were  dooming  the  national  assembly, 
in  addition  to  its  being  the  high  altar  and  castle  of  despotism, 
became  the  proper  object  to  begin  with.  This  enterprise  broke 
up  the  new  ministry,  who  began  now  to  fly  from  the  ruin  they 
had  prepared  for  others.  The  troops  of  Broglio  dispersed,  and 
himself  fled  also. 

Mr.  Burke  has  spoken  a  great  deal  about  plots,  and  he  has 
never  once  spoken  of  this  plot  against  the  national  assembly 
and  the  liberties  of  the  nation;  and  that  he  might  not,  he  has 
passed  over  all  the  circumstances  that  might  throw  it  in  his 
way.  The  exiles  who  have  fled  from  France,  whose  cause  he 
so  much  interests  himself  in,  and  from  whom  he  has  had  his 
lesson,  fled  in  consequence  of  the  miscarriage  of  this  plot.  No 
plot  was  formed  against  them  :  it  was  they  who  were  plotting 
against  others;  and  those  who  fell,  met,  not  unjustly,  the  punish- 
ment they  were  preparing  to  execute.  But  will  Mr.  Burke  say 
that  if  this  plot,  contrived  with  the  subtlety  of  an  ambuscade, 
had  succeeded,  the  successful  party  would  have  restrained  their 
wrath  so  soon?  Let  the  history  of  all  old  governments  answer 
the  question. 

Whom  has  the  national  assembly  brought  to  the  scaffold  ? 
None.  They  were  themselves  the  devoted  victims  of  this  plot, 
and  they  have  not  retaliated;  why  then  are  they  charged  with 
revenge  they  have  not  acted?  In  the  tremendous  breaking 
forth  of  a  whole  people,  in  which  all  degrees,  tempers  and 
characters  are  confounded,  and  delivering  themselves  by  a 
miracle  of  exertion,  from  the  destruction  meditated  against 
them,  is  it  to  be  expected  that  nothing  will  happen  ?  When 
men  are  sore  with  the  sense  of  oppressions,  and  menaced  with 
the  prospect  of  new  ones,  is  the  calmness  of  philosophy,  or  the 
palsy  of  insensibility  to  be  looked  for  1  Mr.  Burke  exclaims 
against  outrage,  yet  the  greatest  is  that  which  he  has  committed. 
His  book  is  a  volume  of  outrage,  and  not  apologized  for  by  the 


254«  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

impulse  of  a  moment,  but  cherished  through  a  space  of  ten 
months;  yet  Mr.  Burke  had  no  provocation,  no  life,  no  interest 
at  stake. 

More  citizens  fell  in  this  struggle  than  of  their  opponents ;  but 
four  or  five  persons  were  seized  by  the  populace,  and  instantly 
put  to  death;  the  governor  of  the  Bastile,  and  the  mayor  of 
Paris,  who  was  detected  in  the  act  of  betraying  them;  and 
afterwards  Foulon,  one  of  the  new  ministry,  and  Berthier,  his 
son-in-law,  who  had  accepted  the  office  of  intendant  of  Paris. 
Their  heads  were  stuck  upon  pikes,  and  carried  about  the  city; 
and  it  is  upon  this  mode  of  punishment  that  Mr.  Burke  builds 
a  great  part  of  his  tragic  scenes.  Let  us  therefore  examine 
how  man  came  by  the  idea  of  punishing  in  this  manner. 

They  learn  it  from  the  governments  they  live  under ;  and  re- 
taliate the  punishments  they  have  been  accustomed  to  behold. 
The  heads  stuck  upon  pikes  which  remained  for  years  on  Temple- 
bar  differed  nothing  in  the  horror  of  the  scene  from  those  car- 
ried about  on  pikes  at  Paris:  yet  this  was  done  by  the  English 
government.  It  may,  perhaps,  be  said,  that  it  signifies  nothing 
to  a  man  what  is  done  to  him  after  he  is  dead;  but  it  signifies 
much  to  the  living;  it  either  tortures  their  feelings  or  hardens 
their  hearts;  and  in  either  case,  it  instructs  them  how  to  punish 
when  power  falls  into  their  hands. 

Lay  then  the  axe  to  the  root,  and  teach  governments  hu- 
manity. It  is  their  sanguinary  punishments  which  corrupt 
mankind.  In  England  the  punishment  in  certain  cases  is,  by 
hanging,  drawing,  and  quartering;  the  heart  of  the  sufferer  is 
cut  out  and  held  up  to  the  view  of  the  populace.  In  France, 
under  the  former  government,  the  punishments  were  not  less 
barbarous.  Who  does  not  remember  the  execution  of  Damien, 
torn  to  pieces  by  horses  1  The  effect  of  these  cruel  spectacles 
exhibited  to  the  populace,  is  to  destroy  tenderness  or  excite  re- 
venge; and  by  the  base  and  false  idea  of  governing  men  by 
terror  instead  of  reason,  they  become  precedents.  It  is  over 
the  lowest  class  of  mankind  that  government  by  terror  is  in- 
tended to  operate,  and  it  is  on  them  that  it  operates  to  the 
worst  effect.  They  have  sense  enough  to  feel  that  they  are  the 
objects  aimed  at;  and  they  inflict  in  their  turn  the  examples  of 
teiTor  they  have  been  instructed  to  practice. 

There  are  in  all  European  countries  a  large  class  of  people  of 
that  description  which  in  England  are  called  the  "  mob  "  Of 
this  class  were  those  who  committed  the  burnings  and  devasta- 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  255 

tions  in  London  in  1780,  and  of  this  class  were  those  who  car- 
ried the  heads  upon  pikes  in  Paris.  Foulon  and  Berthier  were 
taken  up  in  the  country,  and  sent  to  Paris  to  undergo  their  ex- 
amination at  the  hotel  de  ville;  for  the  national  assembly,  im- 
mediately on  the  new  ministry  coming  into  office,  passed  a  de- 
cree, which  they  communicated  to  the  king  and  cabinet,  that 
they  (the  national  assembly)  would  hold  the  ministry,  of  which 
Foulon  was  one,  responsible  for  the  measures  they  were  advis- 
ing and  pursuing;  but  the  mob,  incensed  at  the  appearance  of 
Foulon  and  Berthier,  tore  them  from  their  conductors  before 
they  were  carried  to  the  hotel  de  ville,  and  executed  them  on 
the  spot.  Why  then  does  Mr.  Burke  charge  outrages  of  this 
kind  upon  a  whole  people?  As  well  may  he  charge  the  riots 
and  outrages  of  1780  on  the  whole  people  of  London,  or  those 
in  Ireland  on  all  his  country. 

But  everything  we  see  or  hea  offensive  to  our  feelings,  and 
derogatory  to  the  human  character,  should  lead  to  other  reflec- 
tions than  those  of  reproach.  Even  the  beings  who  commit 
them  have  some  claim  to  our  consideration.  How  then  is  it 
that  such  vast  classes  of  mankind  as  are  distinguished  by  the 
appellation  of  the  vulgar,  or  the  Ignorant  mob,  are  so  numerous 
in  all  old  countries  1  The  instant  we  ask  ourselves  this  question, 
reflection  finds  an  answer.  They  arise,  as  an  unavoidable  con- 
sequence, out  of  the  ill  construction  of  all  the  old  governments 
in  Europe,  England  included  with  the  rest.  It  is  by  distortedly 
exalting  some  men,  that  others  are  distortedly  debased,  till  the 
whole  is  out  of  nature.  A  vast  mass  of  mankind  are  degraded  ly 
thrown  into  the  back  ground  of  the  human  picture,  to  bring 
forward,  with  greater  glare,  the  puppet-show  of  state  and  aris- 
tocracy i  the  commencement  of  a  revolution,  those  men  are 
rather  the  followers  of  the  camp  than  of  the  standard  of  liberty, 
and  have  yet  to  be  instructed  how  to  reverence  it. 

I  give  to  Mr.  Burke  all  his  theatrical  exaggerations  for  facts, 
and  I  then  ask  him,  if  they  do  not  establish  the  certainty  of 
what  I  here  lay  down  ?  Admitting  them  to  be  true,  they  show 
the  necesssty  of  the  French  revolution,  as  much  as  any  one 
thing  he  could  have  asserted.  These  outrages  are  not  the  effect 
of  the  principles  of  the  revolution,  but  of  the  degraded  mind 
that  existed  before  the  revolution,  and  which  the  revolution  is 
calculated  to  reform.  Place  them  then  to  their  proper  cause, 
and  take  the  reproach  of  them  to  your  own  side. 

It  ia  to  the  hono.  of  the  national  assembly,  and  the  city  of 


256  RIGHTS   OF  MAN. 

Paris,  that  during  such  a  tremendous  scene  of  arms  and  con- 
fusion, beyond  the  control  of  all  authority,  that  they  have '.  een 
able  by  the  influence  of  example  and  exhortation,  to  restrain  so 
much.  Never  was  more  pains  taken  to  instruct  and  enlighten 
mankind,  and  to  make  them  see  that  their  interest  consisted  in 
their  virtue,  and  not  in  their  revenge,  than  what  have  been  dis- 
played in  the  revolution  in  France. — I  now  proceed  to  make 
some  remarks  on  Mr.  Burke's  account  of  the  expedition  to 
Versailles,  on  the  5th  and  6th  of  October. 

I  can  consider  Mr.  Burke's  book  in  scarcely  any  other  light 
than  a  dramatic  performance;  and  he  must,  I  think,  have  con- 
sidered it  in  the  same  light  himself,  by  the  poetical  liberties 
he  has  taken  of  omitting  some  facts,  distorting  others,  and 
making  the  machinery  bend  to  produce  a  stage  effect.  Of  this 
kind  is  his  account  of  the  expedition  to  Versailles.  He  begins 
this  account  by  omitting  the  only  facts  which,  as  causes,  are 
known  to  be  true;  everything  beyond  these  is  conjecture  even 
in  Paris;  and  he  then  works  up  a  tale  accommodated  to  his 
own  passions  and  prejudices. 

It  is  to  be  observed  throughout  Mr.  Burke's  book,  that  he 
never  speaks  of  plots  against  the  revolution;  and  it  is  from 
those  plots  that  all  the  mischiefs  have  arisen.  It  suits  his  pur- 
pose to  exhibit  consequences  without  their  causes.  It  is  one 
of  the  arts  of  the  drama  to  do  so.  If  the  crimes  of  men  were 
exhibited  with  their  suffering,  the  stage  effect  would  sometimes 
be  lost,  and  the  audience  would  be  inclined  to  approve  where 
it  was  intended  they  should  commiserate. 

After  all  the  investigations  that  have  been  made  into  this 
intricate  affair  (the  expedition  to  Versailles,)  it  still  remains 
enveloped  in  all  that,  kind  of  mystery  which  ever  accompanies 
events  produced  more  from  a  concurrence  of  awkward  circum- 
stances, than  from  fixed  design.  While  the  characters  of  men 
are  forming,  as  is  always  the  case  in  revolutions,  there  is  a 
reciprocal  suspicion,  and  a  disposition  to  misinterpret  each 
other;  and  even  parties  directly  opposite  in  principle,  will 
sometimes  concur  in  pushing  forward  the  same  movement  with 
very  different  views,  and  with  the  hopes  of  its  producing  very 
different  consequences.  A  great  deal  of  this  may  be  discovered 
in  this  embarrassed  affair,  and  yet  the  issue  of  the  whole  was 
what  nobody  had  in  view. 

The  only  things  certainly  known  are,  that  considerable  un- 
easiness was  at  this  time  excited  in  Paris,  by  the  delay  of  the 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  2o7 

king  in  not  sanctioning  and  forwarding  the  decrees  of  the 
national  assembly,  particularly  that  of  the  declaration  of  th,e 
rights  of  man,  and  the  decrees  of  the  fourth  of  August,  which 
contained  the  foundation  principles  on  which  the  constitution 
was  to  be  erected.  The  kindest,  and  perhaps  1  he  fairest,  conjec- 
ture upon  this  matter  is,  that  some  of  the  ministers  intended  to 
make  observations  upon  certain  p^i  is  of  them,  before  they  were 
finally  sanctioned  and  sent  to  the  provinces;  but  be  this  as  it 
ma  the  enemies  of  the  revolution  derived  hopes  from  the  de- 
lay, and  the  friends  of  the  revolution,  uneasiness. 

During  this  state  of  suspense,  he  gardes  du  corps,  which  waa 
composed,  as  such  iegiD"onts  generally  are,  of  persons  much  con- 
nected with  the  cour^  VR  an  entertainment  at  Versailles 
(Oct.  1,)  to  some  foreign  .cgiments  then  arrived;  and  when  the 
entertainment  was  at  its  height,  on  a  signal  given,  the  gardes 
du  corps  tore  the  national  cockade  from  their  hats,  trampled  it 
under  foot,  and  replaced  it  with  a  counter  cockade  prepared  for 
the  purpose.  An  indignanity  of  this  kind  amounted  to  de- 
fiance. It  was  like  decL.-ing  war;  and  if  men  will  give  chal- 
lenges, they  must  expect  consequences.  But  all  this  Mr.  Burke 
has  carefully  kept  out  of  sight.  He  begins  his  accouni  by  say- 
ing, "  History  will  record,  that  on  the  morning  of  the  6th  of 
October,  1789,  the  king  and  queen  of  France,  after  a  day  of 
confusion,  alarm,  dismay  and  slaughter,  lay  down  under  the 
pledged  security  of  public  faith,  to  indulge  nature  in  a  few 
hours  of  respite,  and  troubled  melancholy  repose."  This  is 
neither  the  sober  style  of  history,  nor  the  intention  of  it.  It 
leaves  everything  to  be  guessed  at,  and  mistaken.  One  would 
at  least  think  there  had  been  a  battle ;  and  a  battle  there  prob- 
ably would  have  been,  had  it  not  been  for  the  moderating 
prudence  of  those  whom  Mr  Burke  involves  in  his  censures. 
By  his  keeping  the  garden  du  corps  out  of  sight  Mr.  Burke  has 
afforded  himself  the  dramatic  license  of  putting  the  king  and 
queen  in  their  places,  as  if  the  object  of  the  expedition  was 
against  them. — But,  to  return  to  my  account — 

This  conduct  of  the  gardes  du  corps,  as  might  well  be  ex- 
pected, alarmed  and  enraged  the  Parisians:  the  colors  of  the 
cause  and  the  cause  itself,  were  become  too  united  to  mistake 
the  intention  of  the  insult,  and  the  Parisians  were  determined 
to  call  the  gardes  du  corps  to  an  account.  There  was  certainlv 
nothing  of  the  cowardice  of  assassination  in  marching  in  the 
face  of  day  to  demand  satisfaction,  if  such  a  phrase  may  be 


258  BIGHTS   OF  MAN. 

used,  of  a  body  of  armed  men  who  had  voluntarily  given  de- 
fiance. But  the  circumstance  which  serves  to  throw  this  affair 
into  embarrassment  is,  that  the  enemies  of  the  revolution  appear 
to  have  encouraged  it,  as  well  as  its  friends.  The  one  hoped  to 
prevent  a  civil  war,  by  checking  it  in  time,  and  the  other  to 
make  one.  The  hopes  of  those  opposed  to  the  revolution,  rested 
in  making  the  king  of  their  party,  and  getting  him  from  Ver- 
sailles to  Metz,  where  they  expected  to  collect  a  force  and  set 
up  a  standard.  We  have  therefore  two  different  objects  present- 
ing themselves  at  the  same  time,  and  to  be  accomplished  by  the 
same  means ;  the  one,  to  chastise  the  gardes  du  corps  which  was 
the  object  of  the  Parisians;  the  other,  to  render  the  confusion 
of  such  a  scene  an  inducement  to  the  king  to  set  off  for  Metz. 

On  the  5th  of  October,  a  very  numerous  body  of  women, 
and  men  in  the  disguise  of  women,  collected  round  the  hotel 
de  ville,  or  town  hall,  at  Paris,  and  set  off  for  Versailles. 
Their  professed  object  was  the  gardes  du  corps;  but  prudent 
men  readily  recollected  that  mischief  is  easier  begun  than 
ended ;  and  this  impressed  itself  with  the  more  force,  from  the 
suspicions  already  stated,  and  the  irregularity  of  such  a  caval- 
«-ade.  As  soon  therefore  as  a  sufficient  force  could  be  collected, 
M.  de  la  Fayette,  by  orders  from  the  civil  authority  of  Paris, 
;et  off  after  them  at  the  head  of  twenty  thousand  of  the  Paris 
militia.  The  revolution  could  derive  no  benefit  from  confusion, 
,',nd  its  opposers  might.  By  an  amiable  and  spirited  manner 
of  address,  he  had  hitherto  been  fortunate  in  calming  dis- 
quietudes, and  in  this  he  was  extraordinarily  successful ;  to 
frustrate,  therefore,  the  hopes  of  those  who  might  seek  to  im- 
prove this  scene  into  a  sort  of  justifiable  necessity  for  the  king's 
quitting  Versailles  and  withdrawing  to  Metz,  and  to  prevent, 
at  the  same  time,  the  consequences  that  might  ensue  between 
the  gardes  du  corps  and  this  phalanx  of  men  and  women,  he 
forwarded  expresses  to  the  king,  that  he  was  on  his  march  to 
Versailles,  by  the  orders  of  the  civil  authority  of  Paris,  for  the 
purpose  of  peace  and  protection,  expressing  at  the  same  time 
the  necessity  of  restraining  the  gardes  du  corps  from  firing  on 
the  people.* 

He  arrived  at  Versailles  between  ten  and  eleven  o'clock  at 
night.  The  gardes  du  corps  were  drawn  up,  and  the  people 
had  arrived  some  time  before,  but  everything  had  remained 

*  I  am  warranted  in  asserting  this,  as  I  had  it  from  M.  de  la  Fayette,  with 
Thorn  I  have  lived  in  habits  of  friendship  for  fourteen  years. 


RIGHTS   OF  MAN.  259 

suspended.  Wisdom  and  policy  now  consisted  in  changing  a 
scene  of  danger  into  a  happy  event.  M.  de  la  Fayette  became 
the  mediator  between  the  enraged  parties;  and  the  king,  to  re- 
move the  uneasiness  which  had  arisen  from  the  delay  already 
stated,  sent  for  the  president  of  the  national  assembly,  and 
signed  the  declaration  of  the  rights  of  man,  and  such  other  parts 
of  the  constitution  as  were  in  readiness. 

It  was  now  about  one  in  the  morning.  Everthing  appeared 
to  be  composed,  and  a  general  congratulation  took  place.  At 
the  beat  of  drum  a  proclamation  \vas  made,  that  the  citizens 
of  Versailles  would  give  the  hospitality  of  their  houses  to  their 
fellow-citizens  of  Paris.  Those  who  could  not  be  accommodated 
in  this  manner,  remained  in  the  streets,  or  took  up  their  quar- 
ters in  the  churches;  and  at  two  o'clock  the  king  and  queen 
retired. 

In  this  state  matters  passed  until  the  break  of  day,  when  a 
fresh  disturbance  arose  from  the  censurable  conduct  of  some  of 
both  parties;  for  such  characters  there  will  be  in  all  such  scenes. 
One  of  the  gardes  du  corps  appeared  at  one  of  the  windows  of 
the  palace,  and  the  people  who  had  remained  during  the  night 
in  the  streets  accosted  him  with  reviling  and  provocative  lan- 
guage. Instead  of  retiring,  as  in  such  a  case  prudence  would 
have  dictated,  he  presented  his  musket,  fired,  and  killed  one  of 
the  Paris  militia.  The  peace  being  thus  broken,  the  people 
rushed  into  the  palace  in  quest  of  the  offender.  They  attacked 
the  quarters  of  the  gardes  du  corps  within  the  palace,  and 
pursued  them  through  the  avenues  of  it,  and  to  the  apartments 
of  the  king.  On  this  tumult,  not  the  queen  only,  as  Mr.  Burke 
has  represented  it,  but  every  person  in  the  palace  was  awak- 
ened and  alarmed;  and  M.  de  la  Fayette  had  a  second  time  to 
interpose  between  the  parties,  the  event  of  which  was,  that  the 
gardes  du  corps  put  on  the  national  cockade,  and  the  matter 
ended,  as  by  oblivion,  after  the  loss  of  two  or  three  lives. 

During  the  latter  part  of  the  time  in  which  this  confusion 
was  acting,  the  king  and  queen  were  in  public  at  the  balcony, 
and  neither  of  them  concealed  for  safety's  sake,  as  Mr.  Burke 
insinuates.  Matters  being  thus  appeased,  and  tranquil  ity  re- 
stored, a  general  acclamation  broke  forth  of,  le  roi  a  Paris — le 
roi  a  Paris — the  king  to  Paris.  It  was  toe  shout  of  peace,  and 
immediately  accepted  on  the  part  of  the  king.  By  this  mea- 
sure, all  future  projects  of  trepanning  the  king  to  Metz,  and 
setting  up  the  standard  of  opposition  to  the  constitution  were 


260  EIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

prevented,  and  the  suspicions  extinguished.  The  king  and  his 
family  reached  Paris  in  the  evening,  and  were  congratulated  on 
their  arrival  by  M.  Bailley,  the  mayor  of  Paris,  in  the  name  of 
the  citizens.  Mr.  Burke,  who  throughout  his  book  confounds 
things,  persons,  and  principles,  has,  in  his  remarks  un  M. 
Bail  ley's  address,  confounded  time  also.  He  censures  M. 
Bailley  for  calling  it,  ^un  ban  jour"  a  good  day.  Mr.  Burke 
should  have  informed  himself  that  this  scene  took  up  the 
space  of  two  days,  the  day ,  on  which  it  began  with  every 
appearance  of  danger  and  mischief,  and  the  day  on  which  it 
terminated  without  the  mischiefs  that  threatened ;  and  that  it 
is  to  this  peaceful  termination  that  M.  Bailley  alludes,  and  to 
the  arrival  of  the  king  at  Paris.  Not  less  than  three  hundred 
thousand  persons  arranged  themselves  in  the  procession  from 
Versailles  to  Paris,  and  not  an  act  of  molestation  was  com- 
mitted during  the  whole  march. 

Mr.  Burke,  on  the  authority  of  M.  Lally  Tolendal,  a  deserter 
from  the  national  assembly,  says  that  on  entering  Paris,  the 
people  shouted,  "  tons  les  eveques  d,  la  lanterne" — all  bishops 
to  be  hanged  at  the  lantern  or  lamp-posts.  It  was  surprising 
that  nobody  should  hear  this  but  Lally  Tollendal,  and  that  no- 
body should  believe  it  but  Mr.  Burke.  It  has  not  the  least 
connexion  with  any  part  of  the  transaction,  and  is  totally 
foreign  to  every  circumstance  of  it.  The  bishops  have  never 
been  introduced  before  into  any  scene  of  Mr.  Burke's  drama; 
why  then  are  they,  all  at  once,  and  together,  tout  a  coup  et 
tous  eiisemble,  introduced  now  1  Mr.  Burke  brings  forward  his 
bishops  and  his  lantern,  like  figures  in  a  magic  lantern,  and 
raises  his  scenes  by  contrast  instead  of  connexion.  But  it 
serves  to  show  with  the  rest  of  his  book,  what  little  credit 
ought  to  be  given,  where  even  probability  is  set  at  defiance,  for 
the  purpose  of  defaming;  and  with  this  reflection,  instead  of  a 
soliloquy  in  praise  of  chivalry,  as  Mr.  Burke  has  done,  I  close 
the  account  of  the  expedition  to  Versailles.* 

I  have  now  to  follow  Mr.  Burke  through  a  pathless  wilder- 
ness of  rhapsodies,  and  a  sort  of  descant  upon  governments,  in 
which  he  asserts  whatever  he  pleases,  on  the  presumption  of  its 
being  believed,  without  offering  either  evidence  or  reasons  for 
so  doing. 

•  An  account  of  the  expedition  to  Versailles  may  be  seen  in  No.  13  of  the 
"Revolution  de  Paris,"  containing  the  events  from  the  3rd  to  the  10th  of 
October,  1789. 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  261 

Before  anything  can  be  reasoned  upon  to  a  conclusion,  certain 
facts,  principles,  or  data,  to  reason  from,  must  be  established, 
admitted,  or  denied.  Mr.  Burke,  with  his  usual  outrage,  abuses 
the  declaration  of  the  rights  of  man,  published  by  the  national 
assembly  of  France,  as  the  basis  on  which  the  constitution  of 
France  is  built.  This  he  calls  "  paltry  and  blurred  sLeets  of 
paper  about  the  rights  of  man."  Does  Mr.  Burke1  mean  to 
deny  that  man  has  any  rights  1  If  he  does,  then  he  must  mean 
that  there  are  no  such  things  as  rights  anywhere,  and  that  he 
has  none  himself ;  for  who  is  there  in  the  world  but  man  t  But 
if  Mr.  Burke  means  to  admit  that  man  has  rights,  the  question 
then  will  be,  what  are  those  rights,  and  how  came  man  by  them 
originally. 

The  error  of  those  who  reason  by  precedents  drawn  from 
antiquity,  respecting  the  rights  of  man,  is,  that  they  do  not  go 
far  enough  into  antiquity.  They  do  not  go  the  whole  way. 
They  stop  in  some  of  the  intermediate  stages  of  an  hundred  or 
a  thousand  years,  and  produce  what  was  then  done  as  a  rule 
for  the  present  day.  This  is  no  authority  at  all.  If  we  travel 
still  further  into  antiquity,  we  shall  find  a  directly  contrary  opin- 
ion and  practice  prevailing;  and,  if  antiquity  is  to  be  authority, 
a  thousand  such  authorities  may  be  produced,  successively  con- 
tradicting each  other:  but  if  we  proceed  on,  we  shall  at  last 
come  out  right:  we  shall  come  to  the  time  when  man  came 
from  the  hand  of  his  maker.  What  was  he  then  ?  Man.  Man 
was  his  high  and  only  title,  and  a  higher  cannot  be  given  him. 
But  of  titles  I  shall  speak  hereafter. 

We  have  now  arrived  at  the  origin  of  man,  and  at  the  origin 
of  his  rights.  As  to  the  manner  in  which  the  world  has  been 
governed  from  that  day  to  this,  it  is  no  further  any  concern  of 
ours  than  to  make  a  proper  use  of  the  errors  or  the  improve- 
ments which  the  history  of  it  presents.  Those  who  lived  a 
hundred  or  a  thousand  years  ago,  were  then  moderns  as  we  are 
now.  They  had  their  ancients  and  those  ancients  had  others, 
*  and  we  also  shall  be  ancients  in  our  turn.  If  the  mere  name 
of  antiquity  is  to  govern  in  the  affairs  of  life,  the  people  who 
are  to  live  a  hundred  or  a  thousand  years  hence,  may  as  well 
take  us  for  a  precedent,  as  we  make  a  precedent  of  those  who 
lived  a  hundred  or  a  thousand  years  ago.  The  fact  is,  that 
portions  of  antiquity,  by  proving  everything,  establishing  no- 
thing. It  is  authority  against  authority  all  the  way,  till  we 
come  to  the  divine  origin  of  the  rights  of  man,  at  the  creation. 


202  RIGHTS  OF  MAN.     ' 

Here  our  inquiries  find  a  resting  place,  and  our  reason  finds  a 
home.  If  a  dispute  about  the  rights  of  man  had  arisen  at  the 
distance  of  an  hundred  years  from  the  creation,  it  is  to  this 
source  of  authority  they  must  have  referred  and  it  is  to  the 
same  source  of  authority  that  we  must  now  refer. 

Though  I  mean  not  to  touch  upon  any  sectarian  principle  of 
religion,  yet  it  may  be  worth  observing,  that  the  genealogy  of 
Christ  is  traced  to  Adam.  Why  then  not  trace  the  rights  of 
man  to  the  creation  of  man?  I  will  answer  the  question. 
Because  there  have  been  upstarts  of  government,  thrusting 
themselves  between,  and  presumptiously  working  to  un-make 
man. 

If  any  generation  of  men  ever  possessed  the  right  of  dictating 
the  mode  by  which  the  world  should  be  governed  for  ever,  it 
was  the  first  generation  that  existed;  and  if  that  generation 
did  not  do  it,  no  succeeding  generation  can  show  any  authority 
for  doing  it,  nor  set  any  up.  The  illuminating  and  divine  prin- 
ciples of  the  equal  rights  of  man  (for  it  has  its  origin  from  the 
maker  of  man),  relates  not  only  to  the  living  individuals,  but 
to  the  generations  of  men  succeeding  each  other.  Every  gen- 
eration is  equal  in  rights  to  the  generations  which  preceded  it, 
by  the  same  rule  that  every  individual  is  born  equal  in  rights 
with  his  contemporary. 

Every  history  of  the  creation,  and  every  traditionary  account, 
whether  from  the  lettered  or  unlettered  world,  however  they 
may  vary  in  their  opinion  or  belief  of  certain  particulars,  all 
agree  in  establishing  one  point,  the  unity  of  man;  by  which  I 
mean  that  man  is  all  of  one  degree,  and  consequently  that  all 
men  are  born  equal,  and  with  equal  natural  rights,  in  the  same 
manner  as  if  posterity  had  been  continued  by  creation  instead 
of  generation,  the  latter  being  only  the  mode  by  which  the 
former  is  carried  forward;  and  consequently,  every  child  born 
into  the  world  must  be  considered  as  deriving  its  existence 
from  God.  The  world  is  as  new  to  him  as  it  was  to  the  first. 
man  that  existed,  and  his  natural  right  in  it  is  of  the  same  kind. 

The  Mosaic  account  of  the  creation,  whether  taken  as  divine 
authority,  or  merely  historical,  is  fully  up  to  this  point,  the 
unity  or  equality  of  man.  The  expressions  admit  of  no  contro- 
versy. "And  God  said,  let  us  make  man  in  our  own  image. 
In  the  image  of  God  created  he  him;  male  and  female  created 
he  them."  The  distinction  of  sexes  is  pointed  out,  but  no  other 
distinction  is  even  implied.  If  this  be  not  divine  authority,  it  is 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  263 

at  least  historical  authority,  and  shows  that  the  equality  of  man, 
so  far  from  being  a  modern  doctrine,  is  the  oldest  upon  record. 
It  is  also  to  be  observed,  that  all  the  religions  known  in  the 
world  are  founded,  so  far  as  they  relate  to  man,  on  the  unity 
of  man,  as  being  all  of  one  degree.  Whether  in  heaven  or  in 
hell,  or  in  whatever  state  man  may  be  supposed  to  exist  here- 
after, the  good  and  the  bad  are  the  only  distinctions.  Nay, 
even  the  laws  of  governments  are  obliged  to  slide  into  this 
principle,  by  making  degrees  to  consist  in  crimes,  and  not  in 
persons. 

It  is  one  of  the  greatest  of  all  truths,  and  of  the  highest 
advantage  to  cultivate.  By  considering  man  in  this  light,  and 
by  instructing  him  to  consider  himself  in  this  light,  it  places 
him  in  a  close  connection  with  all  his  duties,  whether  to  his 
Creator,  or  to  the  creation,  of  which  he  is  a  part ;  and  it  is  only 
when  he  forgets  his  origin,  or  to  use  a  more  fashionable  phrase, 
his  birth  and  family,  that  he  becomes  dissolute.  It  is  not 
among  the  least  of  the  evils  of  the  present  existing  governments 
in  all  parts  of  Europe,  that  man,  considered  as  man,  is  thrown 
back  to  a  vast  distance  from  his  maker,  and  the  artificial  chasm 
tilled  up  by  a  succession  of  barriers,  or  a  sort  of  turnpike  gates, 
through  which  he  has  to  pass.  I  will  quote  Mr.  Burke's  cata- 
logue of  barriers  that  he  has  set  up  between  man  and  his  Maker. 
Putting  himself  in  the  character  of  a  herald,  he  says — "  We 
fear  God — we  look  with  awe  to  kings — with  affection  to  parlia- 
ments— with  duty  to  magistrates — with  reverence  to  priests, 
and  with  respect  to  nobility."  Mr.  Burke  has  forgot  to  put  in 
"chivalry."  He  has  also  forgot  to  put  in  Peter. 

The  duty  of  man  is  not  a  wilderness  of  turnpike  gates,  through 
which  he  is  to  pass  by  ticket  from  one  point  to  the  other.  It  is 
plain  and  simple,  and  consists  of  but  two  points.  His  duty  to 
God,  which  every  man  must  feel ;  and  with  respect  to  his 
neighbor,  to  do  as  he  would  be  done  by  If  those  to  whom 
power  is  delegated  do  well,  they  will  be  respected ;  if  not  they 
will  be  despised ;  and  with  regard  to  those  to  whom  no  power 
is  delegated,  but  who  assume  it,  the  rational  world  can  know 
nothing  of  them. 

Hitherto  we  have  spoken  only  (and  that  but  in  part)  of  the 
natural  rights  of  man.  We  have  now  to  consider  the  civil 
rights  of  man,  and  to  show  how  the  one  originates  out  of  the 
other.  Man  did  not  enter  into  society  to  become  worse  than  he 
was  before,  nor  to  have  less  rights  than  he  had  before,  but  to 


2G-i  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

have  tliose  rights  better  secured.  His  natural  rights  are  the 
foundation  of  all  his  civil  rights.  But  in  order  to  pursue  this 
distinction  with  more  precision,  it  is  necessary  to  mark  the 
different  qualities  of  natural  and  civil  rights. 

A  few  words  will  explain  this.  Natural  rights  are  those 
which  always  appertain  to  man  in  right  of  his  existence.  Of 
this  kind  are  all  the  intellectual  rights,  or  rights  of  the  mind, 
and  also  all  those  rights  of  acting  as  an  individual  for  his  own 
comfort  and  happiness,  which  are  not  injurious  to  the  rights  of 
others. — Civil  rights  are  those  which  appertain  to  man  in  right 
of  his  being  a  member  of  society.  Every  civil  right  has  for  its 
foundation  some  natural  right  pre-existing  in  the  individual, 
but  to  which  his  individual  power  is  not,  in  all  cases,  sufficiently 
competent.  Of  this  kind  are  all  those  wnich  relate  to  security 
and  protection. 

From  this  short  review  it  will  be  easy  to  distinguish  between 
that  class  of  natural  rights  which  man  retains  after  entering 
into  society,  and  those  which  he  throws  into  common  stock  as 
a  member  of  society. 

The  natural  rights  which  he  retains,  are  all  those  in  which 
the  power  to  execute  is  as  perfect  in  the  individual  as  the  right 
itself.  Among  this  class,  as  is  before  mentioned,  are  all  the 
intellectual  rights,  or  rights  of  the  mind;  consequently,  religion 
is  one  of  those  rights.  The  natural  rights  which  are  not  re- 
tained, are  all  those  in  which,  though  the  right  is  perfect  in  the 
individual,  the  power  to  execute  them  is  defective.  They 
answer  not  his  purposes.  A  man  by  natural  right  has  a  right 
to  judge  in  his  own  cause ;  and  so  far  as  the  right  of  the  mind 
is  concerned,  he  never  surrenders  it;  but  what  availeth  it  him 
to  judge,  if  he  has  not  power  to  redi'ess  it1?  He  therefore 
deposits  this  right  in  the  common  stock  of  society,  and  takes 
the  arm  of  society,  of  which  he  is  a  part,  in  preference  and  in 
addition  to  his  own.  Society  grants  him  nothing.  Every  man 
is  a  proprietor  in  society,  and  draws  on  the  capital  as  a  matter 
of  right. 

From  these  premises,  two  or  three  certain  conclusions  will 
follow. 

1st,  That  every  civil  right  grows  out  of  a  natural  right;  or,  in 
other  words,  is  a  natural  right  exchanged. 

2nd,  That  civil  power  properly  considered  as  such,  is  made 
up  of  the  aggregate  of  that  class  of  the  natural  rights  of  man, 
which  becomes  defective  in  the  individual  in  point  of  power, 


KlUHTS   OF   MAN  265 

and  answers  not  his  purpose,  but  when  collected  to  a  focus, 
becomes  competent  to  the  purpose  of  every  one. 

3rd,  That  the  power  produced  by  the  aggregate  of  natural 
rights,  imperfect  in  power  in  the  individual,  cannot  be  applied 
to  invade  the  natural  rights  which  are  retained  in  the  individual, 
and  in  which  the  power  to  execute  is  as  perfect  as  the  right 
itself. 

We  have  now,  in  a  few  words,  traced  man  from  a  natural  in- 
dividual to  a  member  of  society,  and  shown,  or  endeavored  t«. 
show,  the  quality  of  the  natural  rights  retained,  and  of  those 
which  are  exchanged  for  civil  rights.  Let  us  now  apply  those 
principles  to  government. 

In  casting  our  eyes  over  the  world  it  is  extremely  easy  to 
distinguish  the  governments  which  have  arisen  out  of  society, 
or  out  of  the  social  compact,  from  those  which  have  not;  but 
to  place  this  in  a  clearer  light  than  a  single  glance  may  afford, 
it  will  be  proper  to  take  a  review  of  the  several  sources  from 
which  governments  have  arisen,  and  on  which  they  have  been 
founded. 

They  may  be  all  comprehended  under  three  heads — 1st, 
superstition ;  2nd,  power ;  3rd,  the  common  interests  of  society, 
and  the  common  rights  of  man. 

The  first  was  a  government  of  priest-craft,  the  second  of  con- 
querors, and  the  third  of  reason. 

When  a  set  of  artful  men  pretended,  through  the  me  ium  of 
oracles,  to  hold  intercourse  with  the  deity,  as  familiarly  a&  uiev 
now  march  up  the  back  stairs  in  European  courts,  the  world 
was  completely  under  the  government  of  superstition.  The 
oracles  were  consulted,  and  whatever  they  were  made  to  say, 
became  the  law;  and  this  sort  of  government  lasted  just  as  long 
as  this  sort  of  superstition  lasted. 

After  these  a  race  of  conquerors  arose,  whose  government, 
like  that  of  William  the  conqueror,  was  founded  on  power,  and 
the  sword  assumed  the  name  of  a  sceptre.  Governments  thus 
established,  last  as  long  as  the  power  to  support  them  lasts;  but 
that  they  might  avail  themselves  of  every  engine  in  their  favor, 
they  united  fraud  to  force,  and  set  up  an  idol  which  they  called 
divine  right,  and  which,  in  imitation  of  the  pope,  who  affects  to 
be  spiritual  and  temporal,  and  in  contradiction  to  the  founder 
of  the  Christian  religion,  twisted  itself  afterwards  into  an  idol 
of  another  shape,  called  church  and  state.  The  key  of  St.  Peter, 
and  the  key  of  the  treasury,  became  quartered  on  one  another, 


266  RIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

and  the  wondering,  cheated  multitude,  worshipped  the  inven- 
tion. 

When  I  contemplate  the  natural  dignity  of  man;  when  I 
feel  (for  nature  has  not  been  kind  enough  to  me  to  blunt  my 
feelings)  for  the  honor  and  happiness  of  its  character,  I  become 
irritated  at  the  attempt  to  govern  mankind  by  force  and  fraud, 
us  if  they  were  all  knaves  and  fools,  and  can  scarcely  avoid 
feeling  disgust  for  those  who  are  thus  imposed  upon. 

We  have  now  to  review  the  governments  which  arise  out  of 
.society,  in  contradistinction  to  those  which  arose  out  of  super- 
stition and  conquest. 

It  has  been  thought  a  considerable  advance  towards  estab- 
lishing the  principles  of  freedom,  to  say,  that  government  is  a 
compact  between  those  who  govern  and  those  who  are  governed : 
but  this  cannot  be  true,  because  it  is  putting  the  effect  before 
the  cause:  for  as  man  must  have  existed  before  governments 
existed,  there  necessarily  was  a  time  when  governments  did  not 
exist,  and  consequently  there  could  originally  exist  no  governors 
to  form  such  a  compact  with.  The  fact  therefore  must  be,  that 
the  individuals  themselves,  each  in  his  own  personal  and  sov- 
ereign right,  entered  into  a  compact  with  each  other  to  produce 
a  government  and  this  is  the  only  mode  in  which  governments 
have  a  right  to  be  established;  and  the  only  principle  on  which 
they  have  a  right  to  exist. 

To  possess  ourselves  of  a  clear  idea  of  what  government  is,  or 
ought  to  be,  we  must  trace  it  to  its  origin.  In  doing  this,  we 
shall  easily  discover  that  governments  must  have  arisen,  either 
out  of  the  people,  or  over  the  people.  Mr.  Burke  has  made  no 
distinction.  He  investigates  nothing  to  its  source,  and  there- 
fore he  confounds  everything:  but  he  has  signified  his  intention 
of  undertaking  at  some  future  opportunity,  a  comparison  be- 
tween the  constitutions  of  England  and  France.  As  he  thus 
renders  it  a  subject  of  controversy  by  throwing  the  gauntlet,  J 
take  him  up  on  his  own  ground.  It  is  in  high  challenges  thar 
high  truths  have  the  right  of  appearing;  and  I  accept  it  wit! 
the  more  readiness  because  it  affords  me,  at  the  same  time,  a  > . 
opportunity  of  pursuing  the  subject  with  respect  to  governinem 
arising  out  of  society. 

But  it  will  be  first  necessary  to  define  what  is  meant  by  a 
constitution.  It  is  not  sufficient  that  we  adopt  the  word;  we 
must  fix  also  a  standard  signification  to  it. 

A  constitution  is  not  a  thing  in  nauie  only,  but  in  fact.      U 


RIGHTS  OF  MAN.  267 

has  not  an  ideal,  but  a  real  existence;  and  wherever  it  cannot 
be  produced  in  a  visible  form,  there  is  none.  A  constitution 
is  a  thing  antecedent  to  a  government,  and  a  government  is 
only  the  creature  of  a  constitution.  The  constitution  of  a 
country  is  not  the  act  of  its  government,  but  of  the  people 
constituting  a  government.  It  is  the  body  of  elements,  to 
which  you  can  refer,  and  quote  article  by  article;  and  contains 
the  principles  on  which  the  government  shall  be  established,  the 
form  in  which  it  shall  be  organized,  the  powers  it  shall  have, 
the  mode  of  elections,  the  duration  of  parliaments,  or  by  what- 
ever name  such  bodies  may  be  called;  the  powers  which  the 
executive  part  of  the  government  shall  have;  and,  in  fine, 
everything  that  relates  to  the  complete  organization  of  a  civil 
government,  and  the  principle  on  which  it  shaft  act,  and  by 
which  it  shall  be  bound.  A  constitution,  therefore,  is  to  a 
government,  what  the  laws  made  afterwards  by  that  govern- 
ment are  to  a  court  of  judicature.  The  court  of  judicature 
does  not  make  laws,  neither  can  it  alter  them;  it  only  acts  in 
conformity  to  the  laws  made;  and  the  government  is  in  like 
manner  governed  by  the  constitution. 

Can,  then,  Mr.  Burke  produce  the  English  constitution  1  If 
he  cannot,  we  may  fairly  conclude  that,  though  it  has  been  so 
much  talked  about,  no  such  thing  as  a  constitution  exists,  or 
ever  did  exist,  and  consequently  the  people  have  yet  a  constitu- 
tion to  form. 

Mr.  Burke  will  not,  I  presume,  deny  the  position  I  have 
already  advanced;  namely,  that  governments  arise  either  out 
of  the  people,  or  over  the  people.  The  English  government  is 
one  of  those  which  arose  out  of  a  conquest,  and  not  out  of  so- 
ciety, and  consequently  it  arose  over  the  people ;  and  though  it 
has  been  much  modified  from  the  opportunity  of  circumstances, 
since  the  time  of  William  the  Conqueror,  the  country  has  never 
yet  regenerated  itself,  and  it  is,  therefere,  without  a  constitution. 

I  readily  perceive  the  reason  why  Mr.  Burke  declined  going 
into  the  comparison  between  the  English  and  the  French  con- 
stitutions, because  he  could  not  but  perceive,  when  he  sat  down 
to  the  task,  that  no  constitution  was  in  existence  on  his  side  of 
the  question.  His  book  is  certainly  bulky  enough  to  have  con- 
tained all  he  could  say  on  this  subject,  and  it  would  have  been 
the  best  manner  in  which  people  could  have  judged  of  their 
separate  merits.  Why  then  has  he  declined  the  only  thing 
that  was  worth  while  to  write  upon? 


268  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

ground  he  could  take,  if  the  advantages  were  on  his  side;  but  the 
weakest  if  they  were  not;  and  his  declining  to  take  it,  is  either 
a  sign  that  he  could  not  possess  it,  or  could  not  maintain  it. 

Mr.  Burke  has  said  in  his  speech  last  winter  in  parliament, 
that  when  the  national  assembly  of  France  first  met  in  three 
orders,  (tiers  etats,  the  clergy,  and  the  noblesse)  that  France 
had  then  a  good  constitution.  This  shows,  among  numerous 
other  instances,  that  Mr.  Burke  does  not  understand  what  a 
constitution  is.  The  persons  so  met,  were  not  a  constitution, 
but  a  convention  to  make  a  constitution. 

The  present  national  Assembly  of  France  is,  strictly  speak- 
ing, the  personal  social  compact.  The  members  of  it  are  the 
delegates  of  the  nation  in  its  original  character;  future  assem- 
blies will  be  the  delegates  of  the  nation  in  its  organized  char- 
acter. The  authority  of  the  present  assembly  is  different  to 
what  the  authority  of  future  assemblies  will  be.  The  authority 
of  the  present  one  is  to  form  a  constitution:  the  authority  of 
future  assemblies  will  be  to  legislate  according  to  the  principles 
and  forms  prescribed  in  that  constitution;  and  if  experience 
should  hereafter  show  that  alterations,  amendments,  or  addi- 
tions are  necessary,  the  constitution  will  point  out  the  mode  by 
which  such  thing  shall  be  done,  and  not  leave  it  to  the  discre- 
tionary power  of  the  future  government. 

A  government  on  the  principles  on  which  constitutional 
governments,  arising  out  of  society,  are  established,  cannot 
have  the  right  of  altering  itself.  If  it  had,  it  would  be  arbi- 
trary. It  might  make  itself  what  it  pleased;  and  wherever 
such  a  right  is  set  up,  it  shows  that  there  is  no  constitution. 
The  act  by  which  the  English  parliament  empowered  itself  to 
fiit  for  seven  years,  shows  there  is  no  constitution  in  England. 
U  might,  by  the  same  self  authority,  have  sat  any  greater 
number  of  years  or  for  life.  The  bill  which  the  present  Mr. 
Pitt  brought  into  parliament  some  years  ago,  to  reform  parlia- 
ment, was  on  the  same  erroneous  principle. 

The  right  of  reform  is  in  the  nation  in  its  original  character, 
and  the  constitutional  method  would  be  by  a  general  convention 
elected  for  the  purpose.  There  is  moreover  a  paradox  in  the 
idea  of  vitiated  bodies  reforming  themselves. 

From  these  preliminaries  I  proceed  to  draw  some  comparisons. 
I  have  already  spoken  of  the  declaration  of  rights;  and  as  I 
mean  to  be  as  concise  as  possible,  I  shall  proceed  to  other  parts 
of  the  French  constitution. 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  269 

The  constitution  of  France  says,  that  every  man  who  pays  a 
tax  of  sixty  sous  per  annum  (2s.  and  Qd.  English)  is  an  elector. 
What  article  will  Mr.  Burke  place  against  this  ?  Can  anything 
be  more  limited,  and  at  the  same  time  more  capricious,  than 
what  the  qualifications  of  the  electors  are  in  England  1  Limited 
— because  not  one  man  in  a  hundred  (I  speak  much  within 
compass)  is  admitted  to  vote:  capricious — because  the  lowest 
character  that  can  be  supposed  to  exist,  and  who  has  not  so 
much  as  the  visible  means  of  an  honest  livelihood,  is  an  elector 
in  some  places;  while,  in  other  places,  the  man  who  pays  very 
large  taxes,  and  with  a  fair  known  character,  and  the  farmer 
who  rents  to  the  amount  of  three  or  four  hundred  pounds  a  year, 
and  with  a  property  on  that  farm  to  three  or  four  times  that 
amount,  is  not  admitted  to  be  an  elector.  Everything  is  out  of 
nature,  as  Mr.  Burke  says  on  another  occasion,  in  this  strange 
chaos,  and  all  sorts  of  follies  are  blended  with  all  sorts  of  crimes. 
William  the  Conqueror,  and  his  descendants,  parcelled  out  the 
country  in  this  manner,  and  bribed  one  part  of  it  by  what  they 
called  charters,  to  hold  the  other  parts  of  it  the  better  subjected 
to  their  will.  This  is  the  reason  why  so  many  charters  abound 
in  Cornwall.  The  people  were  averse  to  the  government  estab- 
lished at  the  conquest,  and  the  towns  were  garrisoned  and  bribed 
to  enslave  the  country.  All  the  old  charters  are  the  badges  of 
this  conquest,  and  it  is  from  this  source  that  the  capriciousness 
of  election  arises. 

The  French  constitution  says,  that  the  number  of  representa- 
tives for  any  place  shall  be  in  a  ratio  to  the  number  of  taxable 
inhabitants  or  electors.  What  article  will  Mr.  Burke  place 
against  this  ?  The  county  of  Yorkshire,  which  contains  near  a 
million  of  souls,  sends  two  county  members;  and  so  does  the 
county  of  Rutland,  which  contains  not  a  hundredth  part  of  that 
number.  The  town  of  old  Sarum*  which  contains  not  three 
houses,  sends  two  members ;  and  the  town  of  Manchester,  which 
contains  upwards  of  sixty  thousand  souls,  is  not  admitted  to  send 
any.  Is  .there  any  principle  in  these  things  1  Is  there  anything 
by  which  you  can  trace  the  marks  of  freedom  or  discover  those 
of  wisdom  1  No  wonder  then  Mr.  Burke  has  declined  the  com- 
parison, and  endeavored  to  lead  his  readers  from  the  point,  by  a 
wild  unsystematical  display  of  paradoxical  rhapsodies. 

The  French  constitution  says  that  the  national  assembly  shall 
be  elected  every  two  years.  What  article  will  Mr.  Burke  place 
against  v:s?  Why,  that  the  nation  has  no  -ight  a-  ill  in  the 


270  RIGHTS   OF  MAN. 

case ;  that  the  government  is  perfectly  arbitrary  with  respect  to 
this  point ;  and  he  can  quote  for  his  authority  the  precedent  of 
a  former  parliament 

The  French  constitution  says  there  shall  be  no  game  laws; 
that  the  farmer  on  whose  lands  wild  game  shall  be  found  (for  it 
w  by  the  produce  of  those  lands  they  are  fed)  shall  have  a  right 
io  what  he  can  take.  That  there  shall  be  no  monopolies  of  any 
AittJ,  that  all  trades  shall  be  free,  and  every  man  free  to  follow 
any  occupation  by  which  he  can  procure  an  honest  livelihood, 
and  in  any  place,  town,  or  city,  throughout  the  nation.  What 
will  Mi*.  Burke  say  to  this  1  In  England,  game  is  made  the  pro- 
perty of  those  at  whose  expense  it  is  not  fed;  and  with  respect 
to  monopiies,  the  country  is  cut  up  into  monopolies.  Every 
chartered  town  is  an  aristo  ratic  monopoly  in  itself,  and  the 
qualification  ol  electors  proceeds  out  of  those  chartered  monopo- 
lies. Is  this  rreeubin  ?  Is  this  what  Mr.  Burke  means  by  a  con- 
stitution t 

In  these  charter oJ  monopolies  a  man  coming  from  another 
part  of  -lie  country,  is  hunted  from  them  as  if  he  were  a  foreign 
enemy.  An  Englishman  is  not  free  in  his  own  conntry :  every 
one  of  those  places  piesents  a  barrier  in  his  way,  and  tells  him 
he  is  not  a  freeman — that  he  has  no  rights.  Within  these  mon- 
opolies are  other  monopolies.  In  a  city,  such  for  instance  as 
Bath,  which  contains  between  twenty  and  thirty  thousand  in 
habitants,  the  right  of  electing  representatives  to  parliament  is 
monopolized  into  about  thirty  onoi  persons.  And  within  these 
monopolies  are  still  others.  A  man,  even  of  the  same  town, 
whose  parents  were  not  in  circumstances  to  give  him  an  occupa- 
tion, is  debarred,  in  many  cases,  from  the  natural  right  of  acquir- 
ing one,  be  his  genius  or  industry  what  it  may. 

Are  these  things  examples  to  hold  ouc  to  a  country  regen 
crating  itself  from  slavery,*  like  France?  Certainly  they  are 
not ;  and  certain  am  I,  that  when  the  people  of  England  come 
to  reflect  upon  them,  they  will,  like  France,  annihilate  those 
badges  of  ancient  oppression,  those  traces  of  a  conquered  nation. 
Had  Mr.  Burke  possessed  talents  similar  to  the  author  "On  the 
Wealth  of  Nations,"  he  would  have  comprehended  all  the  parts 
which  enter  into,  and,  by  assemblage,  form  a  constitution.  He 
would  have  reasoned  from  minutiae  to  magnitude.  It  is  not 
from  his  prejudices  only,  but  from  his  disorderly  cast  of  his 
genius,  that  he  is  unfitted  for  the  subject  he  writes  upon.  Even 
his  genius  is  without  a  constitution.  It  is  a  genius  at  random, 


EIGHTS   OF   MAN.  271 

and  not  a  genius  constituted.  But  he  must  say  something — He 
has  therefore  mounted  in  the  air  like  a  balloon,  to  draw  the  eyes 
of  the  multitude  from  the  ground  they  stand  upon. 

Much  is  to  be  learned  from  the  French  constitution.  Con- 
quest and  tyranny  transplanted  themselves  with  William  the 
conqueror,  from  Normandy  into  England,  and  the  country  is 
yet  disfigured  with  the  marks.  May  then  the  example  of  all 
France  contribute  to  regenerate  the  freedom  which  a  province 
of  it  destroyed1? 

The  French  constitution  says,  that  to  preserve  the  national 
representation  from  being  corrupt,  no  member  of  the  national 
assembly  shall  be  an  officer  of  government,  a  placeman  or  a 
pensioner.  What  will  Mr.  Burke  place  against  this1?  I  will 
whisper  his  answer :  loaves  and  fishes.  Ah !  this  government  of 
loaves  and  fishes  has  more  mischief  in  it  than  people  have  yet 
reflected  on.  The  national  assembly  has  made  the  discovery, 
and  holds  out  an  example  to  the  world.  Had  governments 
agreed  to  quarrel  on  purpose  to  fleece  their  countries  by  taxes, 
they  could  not  have  succeeded  better  than  they  have  done. 

Everything  in  the  English  government  appears  to  me  the 
reverse  of  what  it  ought  to  be,  and  of  what  it  is  said  to  be.  The 
parliament,  imperfectly  and  capriciously  elected  as  it  is,  is  never- 
theless supposed  to  hold  the  national  purse  in  trust  for  the  nation ; 
but  in  the  manner  in  which  an  English  parliament  is  constructed, 
it  is  like  a  man  being  both  mortgager  and  mortgagee;  and  in 
the  case  of  misapplication  of  trust,  it  is  the  criminal  sitting  in 
judgment  on  himself.  If  those  persons  who  vote  the  supplies 
are  the  same  persons  who  receive  the  supplies  when  voted,  and 
are  to  account  for  the  expenditure  of  those  supplies  to  those 
who  voted  them,  it  is  themselves  accountable  to  themselves,  and 
the  "Comedy  of  Errors"  concludes  with  the  pantomine  of 
"  Hush."  Neither  the  ministerial  party,  nor  the  opposition  will 
touch  upon  this  case.  The  national  purse  is  the  common  hack 
which  each  mounts  upon.  It  is  like  what  the  country  people 
call  "Ride  and  tie— You  ride  a  little  way  and  then  I."  They 
order  these  things  better  in  France. 

The  French  constitution  says  that  the  right  of  war  and  peace 
is  in  the  nation.  Where  else  should  it  reside,  but  in  those  who 
are  to  pay  the  expense? 

In  England  the  right  is  said  to  reside  in  a  metaphor,  shown 
at  the  Tower  for  sixpence  or  a  shilling  a-piece;  so  are  the  lions; 
and  it  would  be  a  step  nearer  to  reason  to  say  it  resided  in  them, 


272  RIGHTS   OF  MAN. 

for  any  inanimate  metaphor  is  no  more  than  a  hat  or  a  cap. 
"We  can  all  see  the  absurdity  of  worshipping  Aaron's  molten 
calf,  or  Nebuchadnezzar's  golden  image;  but  why  do  men  con- 
tinue to  practice  on  themselves  the  absurdities  they  despise  in 
others'? 

It  may  with  reason  be  said,  that  in  the  manner  the  English 
nation  is  represented,  it  matters  not  where  this  right  resides, 
whether  in  the  crown  or  in  the  parliament.  War  is  the  com- 
mon harvest  of  all  those  who  participate  in  the  division  and 
expenditure  of  public  money,  in  all  countries.  It  is  the  art  of 
conquering  at  home:  the  object  of  it  is  an  increase  of  revenue: 
and  as  revenue  cannot  be  increased  without  taxes,  a  pretence 
must  be  made  for  expenditures.  In  reviewing  the  history  of 
the  English  government,  its  wars  and  taxes,  an  observer,  not 
blinded  by  prejudice,  nor  warped  by  interest,  would  declare  that 
taxes  were  not  raised  to  carry  on  wars,  but  that  wars  were 
raised  to  carry  on  taxes. 

Mr.  Burke,  as  a  member  of  the  house  of  commons,  is  a  part 
of  the  English  government;  and  though  he  professes  himself  an 
enemy  to  war,  he  abuses  the  French  constitution,  which  seeks 
to  explode  it.  He  holds  up  the  English  government  as  a  model 
in  all  its  parts,  to  France ;  but  he  should  first  know  the  remarks 
which  the  French  make  upon  it.  They  contend,  in  favor  of 
their  own,  that  the  portion  of  liberty  enjoyed  in  England,  is  just 
enough  to  enslave  a  country  by,  more  productively  than  by 
despotism ;  and  that  as  the  real  object  of  a  despotism  is  revenue, 
a  government  so  formed  obtains  more  than  it  could  either  by 
direct  despotism  or  in  a  full  state  of  freedom,  and  is,  therefore, 
on  the  ground  of  interest,  opposed  to  both.  They  account  also 
for  the  readiness  which  always  appears  in  such  governments 
for  engaging  in  wars,  by  remarking  on  the  different  motives 
which  produce  them.  In  despotic  governments,  wars  are  the 
effects  of  pride  ;  but  in  those  governments  in  which  they  become 
the  means  of  taxation,  they  acquire  thereby  a  more  permanent 
promptitude. 

The  French  constitution,  therefore,  to  provide  against  both 
those  evils,  has  taken  away  from  kings  and  ministers  the  power 
of  declaring  war,  and  placed  the  right  where  the  expense  must 
fall. 

When  the  question  on  the  right  of  war  and  peace  was  agitat- 
ing in  the  national  assembly,  the  people  of  England  appeared 
to  be  much  interested  in  the  event,  and  highly  to  applaud  th^ 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  273 

decision.  As  a  principle,  it  applies  as  much  to  one  country  as 
to  another.  William  the  Conqueror,  as  a  conqueror,  held  this 
power  of  war  and  peace  in  himself,  and  his  descendents  have 
ever  since  claimed  it  as  a  right. 

Although  Mr.  Burke  has  asserted  the  right  of  the  parliament 
at  the  revolution  to  bind  and  control  the  nation  and  posterity 
for  ever,  he  denies  at  the  same  time,  that  the  parliament  or  the 
nation  has  any  right  to  alter,  what  he  calls,  the  succession  of 
the  crown,  in  any  thing  but  in  part,  or  by  a  sort  of  modification. 
By  his  taking  this  ground,  he  throws  the  case  back  to  the  Nor- 
man conquest;  and  by  thus  running  a  line  of  succession,  spring- 
ing from  William  the  Conqueror  to  the  present  day,  he  makes, 
it  necessary  to  inquire  who  and  what  William  the  Conqueror 
was,  and  where  he  came  from  :  and  into  the  origin,  history  and 
nature  of  what  are  called  prerogatives.  Everything  must  have 
had  a  beginning,  and  the  fog  of  time  and  of  antiquity  should  be 
penetrated  to  discover  it.  Let  then  Mr.  Burke  bring  forward 
his  William  of  Normandy,  for  it  is  to  this  origin  that  his  argu- 
ment goes.  It  also  unfortunately  happens  in  running  this  line 
of  succession,  that  another  line,  parallel  thereto,  presents  itself, 
which  is,  that  if  the  succession  runs  in  a  line  of  the  conquest 
the  nation  runs  in  a  line  of  being  conquered,  and  it  ought  to 
rescue  itself  from  this  reproach. 

But  it  will  perhaps  be  said,  that  though  the  power  of  declar- 
ing war  descends  into  the  heritage  of  the  conquest,  it  is  held  in 
check  by  the  right  of  the  parliament  to  withhold  the  supplies. 
It  will  always  happen,  when  a  thing  is  originally  wrong,  that 
amendments  do  not  make  it  right,  and  often  happens  that  they 
do  as  much  mischief  one  way  as  good  the  other;  and  such  is 
the  case  here,  for  if  the  one  rashly  declares  war  as  a  matter  of 
right,  and  the  other  peremptorily  withholds  the  supplies  as  a 
matter  of  right,  the  remedy  becomes  as  bad  or  worse  than  the 
disease.  The  one  forces  the  nation  to  a  combat,  and  the  other 
ties  its  hands ;  but  the  more  probable  issue  is,  that  the  contrast 
will  end  in  a  collusion  between  the  parties,  and  be  made  a  screen 
to  both. 

On  this  question  of  war,  three  things  are  to  be  considered; 
1st,  the  right  of  declaring  it;  2nd,  the  expense  of  supporting 
it;  3rd,  the  mode  of  conducting  it  after  it  is  declared.  The 
French  constitution  places  the  right  where  the  expense  must 
fall,  and  this  union  can  be  only  in  the  nation.  The  mode  of 
conducting  it,  after  it  is  declared,  it  consigns  to  the  executive 
18 


274  RIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

department.     Were  this  the  case  in  all  countries  we  should 
hear  but  little  more  of  wars. 

Before  I  proceed  to  consider  other  parts  of  the  French  con- 
stitution, and  by  way  of  relieving  the  fatigue  of  argument,  I 
will  introduce  an  anecdote  which  I  had  from  Dr.  Franklin. 

While  the  doctor  resided  in  France,  as  Minister  from  America, 
during  the  war,  he  had  numerous  proposals  made  to  him  by 
projectors  of  every  country  and  of  every  kind,  who  wished  to 
go  to  the  land  that  floweth  with  milk  and  honey,  America,  and 
among  the  rest,  there  was  one  who  offered  himself  to  be  king. 
He  introduced  his  proposal  to  the  doctor  by  letter,  which  is  now 
in  the  hands  of  M.  Beaumarchais,  of  Paris — stating,  first,  that 
as  the  Americans  had  dismissed  or  sent  away  their  king,  they 
would  want  another.  Secondly,  that  himself  was  a  Norman. 
Thirdly,  that  he  was  of  a  more  ancient  family  than  the  dukes 
of  Normandy,  and  of  a  more  honorable  descent,  his  line  never 
having  been  bastardized.  Fourthly,  that  there  was  already  a 
precedent  in  England,  of  kings  coming  out  of  Normandy ;  and 
on  these  grounds  he  rested  his  offer,  enjoining  that  the  doctor 
would  forward  it  to  America.  But  as  the  doctor  did  not  do 
this,  nor  yet  send  him  an  answer,  the  projector  wrote  a  second 
letter;  in  which  he  did  not,  it  is  true,  threaten  to  go  over  and 
conquer  America,  but  only,  with  great  dignity,  proposed,  that 
if  his  offer  was  not  accepted,  that  an  acknowledment  of  about 
£30,000  might  be  made  to  him  for  his  generosity!  Now,  as 
all  argumennts  respecting  succession  must  necessarily  connect 
that  succession  with  some  beginning,  Mr.  Burke's  arguments  on 
this  subject  go  to  show,  that  there  is  no  English  origin  of 
kings,  and  that  they  are  descendants  of  the  Norman  line  in 
right  of  the  conquest.  It  may,  therefore,  be  of  service  to  his 
doctrine  to  make  the  story  known,  and  to  inform  him  that  in 
case  of  that  natural  extinction  to  which  all  mortality  is  subject, 
kings  may  again  be  had  from  Normandy  on  more  reasonable 
terms  than  William  the  Conqueror;  and,  consequently,  that  the 
good  people  of  England,  at  the  revolution  of  1688,  might  have 
done  much  better,  had  such  a  generous  Norman  as  this  known 
their  wants,  and  they  his.  The  chivalric  character  which  Mr. 
Burke  so  much  admires,  is  certainly  much  easier  to  make  a 
bargain  with  than  a  hard-dealing  Dutchman.  But  to  return  to 
the  matters  of  the  constitution — 

The  French  constitution  says,  there  shall  be  no  titles;  and  of 
consequence,  all  that  class  of  equivocal  generation,  which  in 


RIGHTS  OF  MAN.  275 

some  countries  is  called  "aristocracy"  and  in  others  "  nobility," 
is  done  away,  and  the  peer  is  exalted  into  the  man. 

Titles  are  but  nicknames,  and  every  nickname  is  a  title. 
The  thing  is  perfectly  harmless  in  itself,  but  it  marks  a  sort  of 
foppery  in  the  human  character  which  degrades  it.  It  renders 
man  diminutive  in  things  which  are  great,  and  the  counterfeit 
of  woman  in  things  which  are  little.  It  talks  about  its  fine 
riband  like  a  girl,  and  shows  its  yarter  like  a  child.  A  certain 
writer,  of  some  antiquity,  says,  "  When  I  was  a  child,  I  thought 
as  a  child;  but  when  I  became  a  man,  I  put  away  childish 
things." 

It  is,  properly,  from  the  elevated  mind  of  France,  that  the 
folly  of  titles  has  been  abolished.  It  has  out-grown  the  baby- 
clothes  of  count  and  duke,  and  breeched  itself  in  manhood. 
France  has  not  leveled,  it  has  exalted.  It  has  put  down  the 
dwarf  to  set  up  the  man.  The  insignificance  of  a  senseless  word 
like  duke,  count,  dr  earl,  has  ceased  to  please.  Even  those  who 
possessed  them  have  disowned  the  gibberish,  and,  as  they  out- 
grew the  rickets,  have  despised  the  rattle.  The  genuine  mind 
of  man,  thirsting  for  its  native  home,  society,  condemns  the  gew- 
gaws that  separate  him  from  it.  Titles  are  like  circles  drawn  by 
the  magician's  wand,  to  contract  the  sphere  of  man's  felicity. 
He  lives  immured  within  the  Bastile  of  a  word,  and  surveys  at 
a  distance  the  envied  life  of  man. 

Is  it  then  any  wonder  that  titles  should  fall  in  France  1  Is 
it  not  a  greater  wonder  they  should  be  kept  up  anywhere  1 
What  are  they1?  What  is  their  worth,  nay  "what  is  their 
amount  V  Wiien  we  think  or  speak  of  a.  judge,  or  a  general,  we 
associate  with  it  the  ideas  of  office  and  character;  we  think  of 
gravity  in  the  one,  and  bravery  in  the  other;  bub  when  we  use 
a  word  merely  as  a  title,  no  ideas  associate  with  it.  Through 
all  the  vocabulary  of  Adam,  there  is  not  such  an  animal  as  a 
duke  or  a  count;  neither  can  we  connect  any  certain  idea  to 
the  words.  Whether  they  mean  strength  or  weakness,  wisdom 
or  folly,  a  child  or  a  man,  or  a  rider  or  a  horse,  is  all  equivocal. 
What  respect  then  can  be  paid  to  that  which  describes  nothing, 
and  which  means  nothing  1  Imagination  has -given  figure  and 
character  to  centaurs,  satyrs,  and  down  to  all  the  fairy  tribe ; 
but  titles  baffle  even  the  powers  of  fancy,  and  are  a  chimerical 
nondescript. 

But  this  is  not  all — If  a  whole  country  is  disposed  to  hold 
them  in  contempt,  all  their  value  is  gone,  and  none  will  own 


276  RIGHTS   OF  MAN. 

them.  Tt  is  common  opinion  only  that  makes  them  anything 
or  nothing,  or  worse  than  nothing.  There  is  no  occasion  to 
take  titles  away,  for  they  take  themselves  away  when  society 
concurs  to  ridicule  them.  This  species  of  imaginary  consequence 
has  visibly  declined  in  every  part  of  Europe,  and  it  hastens  to 
its  exit  as  the  world  of  reason  continues  to  rise.  There  was  a 
time  when  the  lowest  class  of  what  are  called  nobility  was 
more  thought  of  than  the  highest  is  now,  and  when  a  man  in 
armor  riding  through  Christendom  in  search  of  adventures  was 
more  stared  at  than  a  modern  duke.  The  world  has  seen  this 
folly  fall,  and  it  has  fallen  by  being  laughed  at,  and  the  farce 
*f  titles  will  follow  its  fate.  The  patriots  of  France  have  dis- 
covered in  good  time,  that  rank  and  dignity  in  society  must 
take  a  new  ground.  The  old  one  has  fallen  through.  It  must 
now  take  the  substantial  ground  of  character,  instead  of  the 
chimerical  ground  of  titles:  and  they  have  brought  their  titles 
to  the  altar,  and  made  of  them  a  burnt-offering  to  reason. 

If  no  mischief  has  annexed  itself  to  the  folly  of  titles,  they 
•would  not  have  been  worth  a  serious  and  formal  destruction, 
such  as  the  national  assembly  have  decreed  them :  and  this 
makes  it  necessary  to  inquire  further  into  the  nature  and  char- 
acter of  aristocracy. 

That,  then,  which  is  called  aristocracy  in  some  countries,  and 
nobility  in  others,  arose  out  of  the  government  founded  upon  the 
conquest.  It  was  originally  a  military  order,  for  the  purpose 
of  supporting  military  government  (for  such  were  all  govern- 
ments founded  in  conquests) ;  and  to  keep  up  a  succession  of  this 
order  for  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  established,  all  the 
younger  braches  of  those  families  were  disinherited,  and  the 
law  of  primoyenituresJiip  set  up. 

The  nature  and  character  of  aristocracy  shows  itself  to  us  in 
this  law.  It  is  a  law  against  every  law  of  nature,  and  nature 
herself  calls  for  its  destruction.  Establish  family  justice  and 
aristocracy  falls.  By  the  aristocratical  law  of  primogeniture- 
ship,  in  a  family  of  six  children,  five  are  exposed. — Aristocracy 
has  never  but  one  child.  The  rest  are  begotten  to  be  devoured. 
They  are  thrown  to  the  cannibal  for  prey,  and  the  natural 
parent  prepares  the  unnatural  repast. 

As  everything  which  is  out  of  nature  in  man,  affects,  more 
or  less,  the  interest  of  society,  so  does  this.  All  the  children 
which  the  aristocracy  disowns  (which  are  all,  except  the  eldest) 
we,  in  general,  cast  like  orphans  on  a  parish,  to  be  provided  for 


RIGHTS  OF   MAN.  277 

by  the  public,  but  at  a  greater  charge.  Unnecessary  offices  and 
places  in  governments  and  courts  are  created  at  the  expense  of 
the  public  to  maintain  them. 

With  what  kind  of  parental  reflections  can  the  father  or 
mother  contemplate  their  younger  offspring.  By  nature  they 
are  children,  and  by  marriage  they  are  heirs ;  but  by  aristocracy 
they  are  bastards  and  orphans.  They  are  the  flesh  and  blood 
of  their  parents  in  one  line,  and  nothing  akin  to  them  in  the 
other.  To  restore,  therefore,  parents  to  their  children,  and 
children  to  their  parents — relations  to  each  other,  and  man  to 
society — and  to  exterminate  the  monster  aristocracy,  root  and 
branch — the  French  constitution  has  destroyed  the  law  of  pri- 
moyenitureship.  Here  then  lies  the  monster,  and  Mr.  Burke, 
if  he  pleases,  may  write  its  epitaph. 

Hitherto  we  have  considered  aristocracy  chiefly  in  one  point 
of  view.  We  have  now  to  consider  it  in  another.  But  whether 
we  view  it  before  or  behind,  or  sideways,  or  anyway  else,  do- 
mestically or  publicly,  it  is  still  a  monster. 

In  France,  aristocracy  had  one  feature  less  in  its  countenance 
than  what  it  has  in  some  other  countries.  It  did  not  compose 
a  body  of  hereditary  legislators.  It  was  not  "  a  corporation  oj 
aristocracy"  for  such  I  have  heard  M.  de  la  Fayette  describe 
an  English  house  of  peers.  Let  us  then  examine  the  grounds 
upon  which  the  French  constitution  has  resolved  against  having 
such  a  house  in  France. 

Because,  in  the  first  place,  as  is  already  mentioned,  aristo- 
cracy is  kept  up  by  family  tyranny  and  injustice. 

2nd,  Because  there  is  an  unnatural  unfitness  in  an  aristo- 
cracy to  be  legislators  for  a  nation.  Their  ideas  of  distributive 
justice  are  corrupted  at  the  very  source.  They  begin  life  tramp- 
ling on  all  their  younger  brothers  and  sister^,  and  relations  of 
every  kind,  and  are  taught  and  educated  so  to  do.  With  what 
ideas  of  justice  or  honor  can  that  man  enter  a  house  of  legisla- 
tion, who  absorbs  in  his  own  person  the  inheritance  of  a  whole 
family  of  children,  or  metes  out  some  pitiful  portion  with  the 
insolence  of  a  gift  1 

3rd,  Because  the  idea  of  hereditary  legislators  is  as  inconsis- 
tent as  that  of  hereditary  judges,  or  hereditary  juries;  and  as 
absurd  as  an  hereditary  mathematician,  or  an  hereditary  wise 
man ;  and  as  ridiculous  as  an  hereditary  poet-laureat. 

4th,  Because  a  body  of  men,  holding  themselves  accountable 
to  nobody,  ought  not  to  be  trusted  by  arty  body.  • 


278  BIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

5th,  Because  it  is  continuing  the  uncivilized  principle  of 
governments  founded  in  conquest,  and  the  base  idea  of  man 
having  property  in  man,  and  governing  him  by  personal  right. 

6th,  Because  aristocracy  has  a  tendency  to  degenerate  the 
human  species.  By  the  universal  economy  of  nature  it  is 
known,  and  by  the  instance  of  the  Jews  it  is  proved,  that  the 
human  species  has  a  tendency  to  degenerate,  in  any  small  num- 
ber of  persons,  when  separated  from  the  general  stock  of 
society,  and  intermarrying  constantly  with  each  other.  It  de- 
feats even  its  pretended  end,  and  becomes  in  time  the  opposite 
of  what  is  noble  in  man.  Mr.  Burke  talks  of  nobility;  let  him 
show  what  it  is.  The  greatest  characters  the  world  has  known, 
have  risen  on  the  democratic  floor.  Aristocracy  has  not  been 
able  to  keep  a  proportionate  pace  with  democracy.  The  arti- 
ficial noble  shrinks  into  a  dwarf  before  the  noble  of  nature ;  and 
in  a  few  instances  (for  there  are  some  in  all  countries)  in  whom 
nature,  as  by  a  miracle,  has  survived  in  aristocracy,  those  men 
despise  it.  But  it  is  time  to  proceed  to  a  new  subject. 

The  French  constitution  has  reformed  the  condition  of  the 
clergy.  It  has  raised  the  income  of  the  lower  and  middle 
classes,  and  taken  from  the  higher.  None  are  now  less  than 
twelve  hundred  livres  (fifty  pounds  sterling),  nor  any  higher 
than  two  or  three  thousand  pounds.  What  will  Mr.  Burke 
place  against  this  1  Hear  what  he  says. 

He  says,  .that  "the  people  of  England  can  see,  without  pain 
or  grudging,  an  archbishop  precede  a  duke;  they  can  see  a 
bishop  of  Durham,  or  a  bishop  of  Winchester  in  possession  of 
10,000£  a  year;  and  cannot  see  why  it  is  in  worse  hands  than 
estates  to  the  like  amount  in  the  hands  of  this  earl  or  that 
squire."  And  Mr.  Burke  offers  this  as  an  example  to  France 

As  to  the  first  part,  whether  the  archbishop  precedes  th« 
duke,  or  the  duke  the  bishop,  it  is,  I  believe,  to  the  people  in 
general,  somewhat  like  Sternhold  and  Hopkins,  or  Hopkins  and 
Sternhold;  you  may  put  which  you  please  first:  and  as  I  con- 
fess that  I  do  not  understand  the  merits  of  this  case,  I  will  not 
contend  it  with  Mr.  Burke. 

But  with  respect  to  the  latter,  I  have  something  to  say. 
Mr.  Burke  has  not  put  the  case  right.  The  comparison  is  out 
of  order  by  being  put  between  the  bishop  and  the  earl,  or  the 
'squire.  It  ought  to  be  put  between  the  bishop  and  the  curate, 
and  then  it  will  stand  thus :  the  people  of  England  can  see  with- 
out grudging  or  pain,  a  bishop  of  Durham  or  a  bishop  of  Win- 


RIGHTS    OF   MAN.  279 

Chester,  in  possession  of  ten  thousand  pounds  a  year,  and  a  cu- 
rate on  thirty  or  fort])  pounds  a  year,  or  less.  No,  sir,  they  cer- 
tainly do  not  see  these  things  without  great  pain  and  grudging. 
It  is  a  case  that  applies  itself  to  every  man's  sense  of  justice, 
and  is  one  among  many  that  calls  aloud  for  a  constitution. 

In  France,  the  cry  of  "  the  church  !  the  church  /"  was  re- 
peated as  often  as  in  Mr.  Burke's  book,  and  as  loudly  as  when 
the  dissenters'  bill  was  before  parliament;  but  the  generality 
of  the  French  clergy  were  not  to  be  deceived  by  this  crv  anv 
longer.  They  knew  that  whatever  the  pretence  might  be,  it 
was  themselves  who  were  one  of  the  principal  objects  of  it.  It 
was  the  cry  of  the  high  beneficed  clergy,  to  prevent  any  regu- 
lation of  income  taking  place  between  those  of  ten  thousand 
pounds  a  year  and  the  parish  priest.  They,  therefore,  joined 
their  case  to  those  of  every  other  oppressed  class  of  meu,  and 
by  this  union  obtained  redress. 

The  French  constitution  has  abolished  tithes,  that  source  of 
perpetual  discontent  between  the  tithe-holder  and  the  parish- 
ioner. When  land  is  held  on  tithe,  it  is  in  the  condition  of  an 
estate  held  between  two  parties;  one  receiving  one-tenth,  and 
the  other  nine-tenths  of  the  produce;  and,  consequently,  on 
principles  of  equity,  if  the  estate  can  be  improved,  and  made  to 
produce  by  that  improvement  double  or  treble  what  it  did  be- 
fore, or  in  any  other  ratio,  the  expense  of  such  improvement 
ought  to  be  borne  in  like  proportion  between  the  parties  who 
are  to  share  the  produce.  But  this  is  not  the  case  in  tithes; 
the  farmer  bears  the  whole  expense,  and  the  tithe-holder  takes 
a  tenth  of  the  improvement,  in  addition  to  the  original  tenth, 
and  by  this  means  gets  the  value  of  two- tenths  instead  of  one. 
This  is  another  case  that  calls  for  a  constitution. 

The  French  constitution  hath  abolished  or  renounced  tolera- 
tion, and  intoleration  also,  and  hath  established  universal  right 
of  conscience. 

Toleration  is  not  the  opposite  of  intoleration,  but  is  the  coun- 
terfeit of  it.  Both  are  despotisms.  The  one  assumes  to  itself 
the  right  of  withholding  liberty  of  conscience,  and  the  other  of 
granting  it.  The  one  is  the  pope,  armed  with  fire  and  fagot, 
and  the  other  is  the  pope  selling  or  granting  indulgences.  The 
former  is  church  and  state,  and  the  latter  is  church  and  traffic. 

But  toleration  may  be  viewed  in  a  much  stronger  light. 
Man  worships  not  himself  but  his  Maker:  and  the  liberty  of 
conscience  which  he  claims,  is  not  for  the  service  of  Himself,  but 


280  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

of  his  God.  In  this  case,  therefore,  we  must  necessarily  have 
the  associated  idea  of  two  beings:  the  mortal  who  renders  the 
worship,  and  the  immortal  being  who  is  worshipped.  Tolera- 
tion, therefore,  places  itself  not  between  man  and  man,  nor  be- 
tween church  and  church,  nor  between  one  denomination  of 
religion  and  another,  but  between  God  and  man:  between  the 
being  who  worships  and  the  being  who  is  worshipped;  and  by 
the  same  act  of  assumed  authority  by  which  it  tolerates  man  to 
pay  his  worship,  it  presumptuously  and  blasphemously  sets  up 
itself  to  tolerate  the  Almighty  to  receive  it. 

Were  a  bill  brought  into  parliament,  entitled,  "An  act  to 
tolerate  or  grant  liberty  to  the  Almighty  to  receive  the  worship 
of  a  Jew  or  a  Turk,"  or  "  to  prohibit  the  Almighty  from  receiv- 
ing it,"  all  men  would  startle,  and  call  it  blasphemy.  There 
would  be  an  uproar.  The  presumption  of  toleration  in  reli- 
gious matters  would  then  present  itself  unmasked  ;  but  the  pre- 
sumption is  not  the  less  because  the  name  of  "  man  "  only  ap- 
pears to  those  laws,  for  the  associated  idea  of  the  worshipper 
and  the  worshipped  cannot  be  separated.  Who,  then,  art  thou, 
vain  dust  and  ashes  !  by  whatever  name  thou  art  called,  whether 
a  king,  a  bishop,  a  church  or  a  state,  a  parliament  or  anything 
else,  that  obtrudest  thine  insignificance  between  the  soul  of 
man  and  his  Maker  ?  Mind  thine  own  concerns.  If  he  believ- 
eth  not  as  thou  believest,  it  is  a  proof  that  thou  believest  not 
as  he  believeth,  and  there  is  no  earthly  power  can  determine 
between  you. 

With  respect  to  what  are  called  denominations  of  religion, 
if  everyone  is  left  to  judge  of  his  own  religion,  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  a  religion  that  is  wrong ;  but  if  they  are  to  judge  of 
each  other's  religion,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  a  religion  that 
is  right ;  and  therefore  all  the  world  is  right,  or  all  the  world 
is  wrong.  But  with  respect  to  religion  itself,  without  regard 
to  names,  and  as  directing  itself  from  the  universal  family  of 
mankind  to  the  divine  object  of  all  adoration,  it  is  man  bring- 
ing to  his  Maker  the  fruits  of  his  heart;  and  though  these  fruits 
may  differ  from  each  other  like  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  the 
grateful  tribute  of  everyone  is  accepted. 

A  bishop  of  Durham,  or  a  Bishop  of  Winchester,  or  the 
archbishop  who  heads  the  dukss,  will  not  refuse  a  tithe-sheaf 
of  wheat,  because  it  is  not  a  cock  of  hay :  nor  a  cock  of  hay 
because  it  is  not  a  sheaf  of  wheat ;  nor  a  pig  because  it  is 
neither  the  one  nor  the  other :  but  these  same  persona,  under 


RIGHTS  OF  MAN.  281 

the  figure  of  an  established  church,  will  not  permit  their  Maker 
to  receive  the  varied  tithes  of  man's  devotion. 

One  of  the  continual  choruses  of  Mr.  Burke's  book  is  "  church 
and  state;"  he  does  not  mean  some  one  particular  church,  or 
some  one  particular  state,  but  any  church  and  state  ;  and  ho 
uses  the  term  as  a  general  figure  to  hold  forth  the  politicai 
doctrine  of  always  uniting  the  church  with  the  state  in  every 
country,  and  he  censures  the  national  assembly  for  not  having 
done  this  in  France.  Let  us  bestow  a  few  thoughts  on  this 
subject. 

All  religions  are,  in  their  nature,  mild  and  benign,  and  united 
with  principles  of  morality.  Thc^y  could  not  have  made  prose- 
lytes at  first,  by  professing  anything  that  was  vicious,  cruel,  per- 
secuting or  immoral.  Like  everything  else,  they  had  their 
beginning ;  and  they  proceeded  by  persuasion,  exhortation,  and 
example.  How  then  is  it  that  they  lose  their  native  mildness, 
and  become  morose  and  intolerant  1 

It  proceeds  from  the  connection  which  Mr.  Burke  recom- 
mends. By  engendering  the  church  with  the  state,  a  sort  of 
mule  animal,  capable  only  of  destroying,  and  not  of  breeding 
up,  is  produced,  called,  the  church  established  by  law.  It  is  a 
stranger,  even  from  its  birth,  to  any  parent  mother  on  which 
it  is  begotten,  and  whom  in  time  it  kicks  out  and  destroys. 

The  inquisition  in  Spain  does  not  proceed  from  the  religion 
originally  professed,  but  from  this  mule  animal,  engendered 
between  the  church  and  the  state.  The  burnings  in  Smithneld 
preceded  from  the  same  heterogeneous  production  ;  and  it  was 
the  regeneration  of  this  strange  aniiaal  in  England  afterwards, 
that  renewed  rancor  and  irreligion  among  the  inhabitants,  and 
that  drove  the  people  called  Quakers  and  Dissenters  to  Amer- 
ica. Persecution  is  not  an  original  feature  in  any  religion ; 
but  is  always  the  strongly -marked  feature  of  all  law-religions, 
or  religions  established  by  law.  Take  away  the  law-establish- 
ment, and  every  religion  re-assumes  its  original  benignity.  In 
America,  a  Catholic  priest  is  a  good  citizen,  a  good  character, 
and  a  good  neighbor ;  an  Episcopalian  minister  is  of  the  same 
description  :  and  this  proceeds  independent  of  men,  from  there 
being  no  law-establishment  in  America. 

If  also  we  view  this  matter  in  a  temporal  sense,  we  shall  see 
the  ill  effects  it  has  had  on  the  prosperity  of  nations.  The 
union  of  church  and  state  has  impoverished  Spain. — The  re- 
voking the  edict  of  Nantz  drove  the  silk  manufacture  from  that 


282  RIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

country  into  England  ;  and  church  and  state  are  now  driving 
the  cotton  manufacture  from  England  to  America  and  France. 
Let  then  Mr.  Burke  continue  to  preach  his  anti-political  doc- 
trine of  church  and  state.     It  will  do  some  good.     The  na- 
tional assembly  will  not  follow  his  advice,  but  will  benefit  by  his 
folly.     It  was  by  observing  the  ill  effects  of  it  in  England, 
that  America  has  been  warned  against  it ;  and  it  is  by  experi 
encing  them  in  France,  that  the  national  assembly  have  abc 
ished  it,  and,  like  America,  has  established  universal  right  o 
conscience,  and  universal  right  of  citizenship.* 

I  will  here  cease  the  comparison  with  respect  to  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  French  constitution,  and  conclude  this  part  of  the 
subject  with  a  few  observations  on  the  organization  of  the 
formal  parts  of  the  French  and  English  governments. 

The  executive  power  in  each  country  is  in  the  hands  of  a 
person  styled  the  king;  but  the  French  constitution  distin- 
guishes between  the  king  and  the  sovereign:  it  considers  the 
station  of  king  as  official,  and  places  sovereignty  in  the  nation. 

*  When  In  any  country  we  see  extraordinary  circumstances  taking  place, 
they  natura'ly  lead  any  man  who  has  a  talent  for  observation  and  investigation, 
to  inquire  into  the  causes.  The  manufacturers  of  Manchester,  Birmingham, 
and  Sheffield,  are  the  principal  manufacturers  in  England.  From  whence  di'l 
this  arise?  A  little  observation  will  explain  the  case  The  principal,  and  the 
generality  of  the  inhabitants  of  those  places,  are  not  of  what  is  culled  in  England, 
the  church  established  by  law:  and  th.y,  or  their  lathers  (for  it  is  within  but  a 
few  yeais)  withdrew  from  the  persecution  of  the  chartered  towns,  where  test-laws 
more  particularly  operate,  and  established  a  sort  of  asylum  for  themselves  in  those 
places.  It  was  the  only  asylum  then  offered,  for  the  rest  of  Europe  was  worse.  But 
the  case  is  now  changing — France  and  America  bid  all  comers  welcome,  and  initiate 
them  into  all  the  rights  of  citizenship.  Policy  and  interest,  therefore,  will,  iiut 
perhaps  too  late,  dictate  in  England  what  reason  and  justice  could  not.  Those 
manufacturers  are  withdrawing  to  oth.  r  places.  There  is  now  erecting  in  Passey. 
three  miles  from  Paris,  a  large  cotton  manuiactory,  and  several  are  already  •  recti  d 
In  America.  Soon  alter  the  rejecting  the  bill  for  repealing  the  test-law,  one  of  the 
richest  mauu;  acturers  in  England  said  iu  my  hearing,  -'England,  sir,  is  not  a  country 
for  a  Dissenter  to  live  in,— we  must  go  to  France."  These  are  truths,  and  it  i-  doins,' 
justice  to  both  parties  to  tell  them.  It  is  chiefly  the  Dissenters  that  have  carried 
English  manufactures  to  the  height  they  are  now  at,  and  the  same  men  have  it  in 
tneir  power  to  carry  them  away;  and  though  those  manufacturers  would  afterwards 
continue  in  those  places,  the  foreign  market  will  be  lost.  There  frequently  appears 
in  the  London  Gazette,  extracts  from  certain  acts  to  prevent  machines,  and  as  far 
as  it  can  extend  to  persons,  from  going  out  of  the  country.  It  appears  from  these 
that  the  ill  effects  of  the  test-laws  and  church  establishment  begin  to  be  much 
suspected;  but  the  remedy  of  force  can  never  supply  the  remedy  of  reason.  In 
the  progress  of  less  than  a  century,  all  the  unrepresented  part  of  England,  of  all  de- 
nominations which  is  at  least  an  hundred  times  the  most  numerous,  may  begin  to 
feel  the  necessity  of  a  constitution,  and  then  all  those  matters  will  come  regu- 
larly before  them. 


RIGHTS   OF  MAN.  283 

The  representatives  of  the  nation,  which  compose  the  national 
assembly,  and  who  are  the  legislative  power,  originate  in  and 
from  the  people  by  election,  as  an  inherent  right  in  the  people. 
In  England  it  is  otherwise;  and  this  arises  from  the  original 
establishment  of  what  is  called  its  monarchy ;  for  as  by  the  con- 
quest all  the  rights  of  the  people  or  the  nation  were  absorbed 
into  the  hands  of  the  conqueror,  and  who  added  the  title  of 
king  to  that  of  conqueror,  those  same  matters  which  in  France 
are  now  held  as  rights  in  the  people,  or  in  the  nation,  are  held 
in  England  as  grants  from  what  is  called  the  crown.  The 
parliament  in  England,  in  both  its  branches,  was  erected  by 
patents  from  the  descendants  of  the  conqueror.  The  house  of 
commons  did  not  originate  as  a  matter  of  right  in  the  people, 
to  delegate  or  elect,  but  as  a  grant  or  boon. 

By  the  French  constitution,  the  nation  is  always  named  be- 
fore the  king.  The  third  article  of  the  declaration  of  rights 
says,  "  The  nation  is  essentially  the  source  (or  fountain)  of  all 
sovereignty."  Mr.  Burke  argues  that  in  England  a  king  is  the 
fountain — that  he  is  the  fountain  of  all  honor.  But  as  this 
idea  is  evidently  descended  from  the  conquest,  I  shail  make  no 
other  remark  upon  it  than  that  it  is  the  nature  of  conquest  to 
turn  everything  upside  down;  and  as  Mr.  Burke  will  not  be 
refused  the  privilege  of  speaking  twice,  and  as  there  are  but 
two  parts  in  the  figure,  the  fountain  and  the  spout,  he  will  be 
right  the  second  time. 

The  French  constitution  puts  the  legislative  before  the  execu- 
tive; the  law  before  the  king;  la  loi,.le  roi.  This  also  is  in 
the  natural  order  of  things;  because  laws  must  have  existence, 
before  they  can  have  execution. 

A  king  in  France  does  not,  in  addressing  himself  to  the 
national  assembly,  say,  "  my  assembly,"  similar  to  the  phrase 
used  in  England  of  "my  parliament;"  neither  can  he  use  it 
consistent  with  the  constitution,  nor  could  it  be  admitted. 
There  may  be  propriety  in  the  use  of  it  in  England,  because 
as  is  before  mentioned,  both  houses  of  parliament  originated 
out  of  what  is  called  the  crown,  by  patent  or  boon — and  not 
out  of  the  inherent  rights  of  the  people,  as  the  national  assem- 
bly does  in  France,  and  whose  name  designates  its  origin. 

The  president  of  the  national  assembly  does  not  ask  the  king 
to  grant  to  the  assembly  the  liberty  of  speech,  as  is  the  case  with 
the  English  house  of  commons.  The  constitutional  dignity  of 
the  national  assembly  cannot  debase  itself.  Speech  is,  in  the 


284  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

first  place,  one  of  the  natural  rights  of  man,  always  retained, 
and  with  respect  to  the  national  assembly ,  the  use  of  it  is  their 
duty,  and  the  nation  is  their  authority.  They  were  elected  by 
the  greatest  body  of  men  exercising  the  right  of  election  the 
European  world  ever  saw.  They  sprung  not  from  the  tilth  of 
rotten  boroughs,  nor  are  they  vassal  representatives  of  aristo- 
cratical  ones.  Feeling  the  proper  dignity  of  their  character, 
they  support  it.  Their  parliamentary  language,  whether  for 
or  against  a  question,  is  free,  bold,  and  manly,  and  extends  to 
all  the  parts  and  circumstances  of  the  case.  If  any  matter  or 
subject  respecting  the  executive  department,  or  the  person  who 
presides  in  it  (the  king),  comes  before  them,  it  is  debated  on 
with  the  spirit  of  men,  and  the  language  of  gentlemen;  and 
their  answer,  or  their  address,  is  returned  in  the  same  style. 
They  stand  not  aloft  with  the  gaping  vacuity  of  vulgar  ignor- 
ance, nor  bend  with  the  cringe  of  sycophantic  insignificance. 
The  graceful  pride  of  truth  knows  no  extremes,  and  preserves 
in  every  latitude  of  life  the  right-angled  character  of  man. 

Let  us  now  look  to  the  other  side  of  the  question.  In  the 
addresses  of  the  English  parliaments  to  their  kings,  we  see 
neither  the  intrepid  spirit  of  the  old  parliaments  of  France,  nor 
the  serene  dignity  of  the  present  national  assembly ;  neither  do 
we  see  in  them  anything  of  the  style  of  English  manners,  which 
borders  somewhat  on  bluntness.  Since  then  they  are  neither 
of  foreign  extraction,  nor  naturally  of  English  production, 
their  origin  must  be  sought  for  elsewhere,  and  that  origin  is 
the  Norman  conquest.  They  are  evidently  of  the  vassalage 
class  of  manners,  and  emphatically  mark  the  prostrate  distance 
that  exists  in  no  other  condition  of  men  than  between  the 
conqueror  and  the  conquered.  That  this  vassalage  idea  and 
style  of  speaking  was  not  got  rid  of,  even  at  the  revolution  of 
1688,  is  evident  from  the  declaration  of  parliament  to  William 
and  Mary,  in  these  words:  "we  do  most  humbly  and  faithfully 
submit  ourselves,  our  heirs  and  posterity  forever."  Submission 
is  wholly  a  vassalage  term,  repugnant  to  the  dignity  of  freedom, 
and  an  echo  of  the  language  used  at  the  conquest. 

As  the  estimation  of  all  things'  is  by  comparison,  the  revo- 
lution of  1688,  however  from  circumstances  it  may  have  been 
exalted  above  its  value,  will  find  its  level.  It  is  already  on 
the  wane,  eclipsed  by  the  enlarging  orb  of  reason,  and  the 
revolutions  of  America  and  France.  In  less  than  another 
century,  it  will  go.  as  well  as  Mr.  Burke's  labors,  "to  the 


BIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

family  vault  of  all  the  Capulets."  Mankind  will  then  scarcely 
believe  that  a  country  calling  itself  free,  would  send  to  Holland 
for  a  man,  and  clothe  him  with  power,  on  purpose  to  put  them- 
selves in  fear  of  him,  and  give  him  almost  a  million  sterling  a- 
year,  for  leave  to  submit  themselves  and  their  posterity,  like 
bondmen  and  bondwomen  forever. 

But  there  is  a  truth  that  ought  to  he  made  known ;  I  have 
had  the  opportunity  of  seeing  it:  which  is,  that  notwithstanding 
appearances,  there  is  not  any  description  of  men  that  despise 
monarchy  so  much  as  courtiers.  But  they  well  know,  that  if 
it  were  seen  by  others,  as  it  is  seen  by  them,  the  juggle  could 
not  be  kept  up.  They  are  in  the  condition  of  men  who  get 
their  living  by  show,  and  to  whom  the  folly  of  that  show  is  so 
familiar  that  they  ridicule  it;  but  were  the  audience  to  be 
made  as  wise,  in  this  respect,  as  themselves,  there  would  be  an 
end  to  the  show  and  the  profits  with  it.  The  difference  be- 
tween a  republican  and  a  courtier  with  respect  to  monarchy,  is, 
that  the  one  opposes  monarchy  believing  it  to  be  something, 
and  the  other  laughs  at  it  knowing  it  to  be  nothing. 

As  I  used  sometimes  to  correspond  with  Mr.  Burke,  believ- 
ing him  then  to  be  a  man  of  sounder  principles  than  his  book 
shows  him  to  be,  I  wrote  to  him  last  winter  from  Paris,  and 
gave  him  an  account  how  prosperously  matters  were  going  on. 
Among  other  subjects  in  that  letter,  I  referred  to  the  happy 
situation  the  national  assembly  were  placed  in;  that  they  had 
taken  a  ground  on  which  their  moral  duty  and  their  political 
interest  were  united.  They  have  not  to  hold  out  a  language 
which  they  do  not  believe,  for  the  fraudulent  purpose  of  mak- 
ing others  believe  it.  Their  station  requires  no  artifice  to 
support  it,  and  can  only  be  maintained  by  enlightening  man- 
kind. It  is  not  their  interest  to  cherish  ignorance,  but  to 
dispel  it.  They  are  not  in  the  case  of  a  ministerial  or  an  oppo- 
sition party  in  England,  who,  though  they  are  opposed,  are 
still  united  to  keep  up  the  common  mystery.  The  national 
assembly  must  throw  open  a  magazine  of  light.  It  must  show 
man  the  proper  character  of  man;  and  the  nearer  it  can  bring 
him  to  that  standard,  the  stronger  the  national  assembly  be- 
comes. 

In  contemplating  the  French  constitution,  we  see  in  it  a 
rational  order  of  things.  The  principles  harmonize  with  the 
forms,  and  both  with  their  origin.  It  may  perhaps  be  said  as 
MI  excuse  for  bad  forms,  that  they  are  nothing  more  than 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

forma;  but  this  is  a  mistake.  Forms  grow  out  of  principles, 
and  operate  to  continue  the  pi-inciples  they  grow  from.  It  is 
impossible  to  practise  a  bad  form  on  anything  but  a  bad  prin- 
ciple. It  cannot  be  engrafted  on  a  good  one;  and  wherever 
the  forms  in  any  government  are  bad,  it  is  a  certain  indication 
that  the  principles  are  bad  also. 

I  will  here  finally  close  this  subject.  I  began  it  by  remarking 
that  Mr.  Burke  had  voluntarily  declined  going  into  a  comparison 
of  the  English  and  French  constitutions.  He  apologized  (p. 
214)  for  not  doing  it,  by  saying  that  he  had  not  time.  Mr. 
Burke's  book  was  upwards  of  eight  months  in  hand,  and  it 
extended  to  a  volume  of  three  hundred  and  fifty-six  pages.  As 
his  omission  does  injury  to  his  cause,  his  apology  makes  it  worse; 
and  men  on  the  English  side  of  the  water  will  begin  to  consider, 
whether  there  is  not  some  radical  defect  in  what  is  called  the 
English  constitution,  that  made  it  necessary  in  Mr.  Burke  to 
suppress  the  comparison,  to  avoid  bringing  it  into  view. 

As  Mr.  Burke  has  not  written  on  constitutions,  so  neither 
has  he  written  on  the  French  revolution.  He  gives  no  account 
of  its  commencement  or  its  progress.  He  only  expresses  his 
wonder.  "  It  looks,"  says  he,  "  to  me  as  if  I  were  in  a  great 
crisis,  not  of  the  affairs  of  France  alone,  but  of  all  Europe, 
perhaps  of  more  than  Europe.  All  circumstances  taken  to- 
gether, the  French  revolution  is  the  most  astonishing  that  has 
hitherto  happened  in  the  world. 

As  wise  men  are  astonished  at  foolish  things  and  other  peo- 
ple at  wise  ones,  I  know  not  on  which  ground  to  account  for 
-Mr.  Burke's  astpnishment;  but  certain  it  is  that  he  does  not 
understand  the  French  revolution.  It  has  apparently  burst 
forth  like  a  creation  from  a  chaos,  but  it  is  no  more  than  the 
consequences  of  mental  revolution  previously  existing  in  France. 
The  mind  of  the  nation  had  changed  beforehand,  and  a  new 
order  of  things  has  naturally  followed  a  new  order  of  thoughts. 
— I  will  here,  as  concisely  as  I  can,  trace  out  the  growth  of  the 
French  revolution,  and  mark  the  circumstances  that  have  con- 
tributed to  produce  it. 

The  despotism  of  Louis  the  XIV.,  united  with  the  gaiety  of 
hit*  3ourt,  and  the  gaudy  ostentation  of  his  character,  had  so 
humbled,  and  at  the  same  time  so  fascinated  the  mind  of  France, 
that  the  people  appear  to  have  lost  all  sense  of  their  own  dignity, 
in  contemplating  that  of  their  grand  monarch :  and  the  whole 
reign  of  Louis  XV.  remarkable  only  for  weakness  and  efferain- 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  287 

acy,  made  no  other  alteration  than  that  of  spreading  a  sort  of 
lethargy  over  the1  nation,  from  which  it  showed  no  disposition 
to  rise. 

The  only  signs  which  appeared  of  the  spirit  of  liberty  during 
those  periods,  are  to  be  found  in  the  writings  of  the  French 
philosophers.  Montesquieu,  president  of  the  parliament  of 
Bordeaux,  went  as  far  as  a  writer  under  a  despotic  govenment 
could  well  proceed :  and  being  obliged  to  divide  himself  between 
principle  and  prudence,  his  mind  often  appears  under  a  veil, 
and  we  ought  to  give  him  credit  for  more  than  he  has  expressed. 

Voltaire,  who  was  both  the  flatterer  and  satirist  of  despotism, 
took  another  line.  His  forte  lay  in  exposing  and  ridiculing  the 
superstitions  which  priest-craft,  united  with  state-craft,  had 
interwoven  with  governments.  It  was  not  from  the  purity  of 
his  principles,  or  his  love  of  mankind  (for  satire  and  philan- 
thropy are  not  naturally  concordant),  but  from  his  strong  cap- 
acity of  seeing  folly  in  its  true  shape,  and  his  irresistible  pro- 
pensity to  expose  it,  that  he  made  those  attacks.  They  were 
however  as  formidable  as  if  the  motives  had  been  virtuous; 
and  he  merits  the  thanks  rather  than  the  esteem  of  mankind. 

On  the  contrary,  we  find  in  the  writings  of  Rousseau  and 
Abbe  Raynal,  a  loveliness  of  sentiment  in  favor  of  liberty,  that 
excites  respect,  and  elevates  the  human  faculties;  yet  having 
raised  this  animation,  they  do  not  direct  its  operations,  but 
leave  the  mind  in  love  with  an  object,  without  describing  the 
means  of  possessing  it. 

The  writings  of  Quisne,  Turgot,  and  the  friends  of  those 
authors,  are  of  a  serious  kind;  but  they  labored  under  the 
same  disadvantage  with  Montesquieu ;  their  writings  abound 
with  moral  maxims  of  government,  but  are  rather  directed  to 
economise  and  reform  the  administration  of  the  government, 
than  the  government  itself. 

But  all  those  writings  and  many  others  had  their  weight; 
and  by  the  different  manner  in  which  they  treated  the  subject 
of  government — Montesquieu  by  his  judgment  and  knowledge 
of  laws;  "Voltaire  by  his  wit;  Rousseau  and  Raynal  by  their 
animation;  and  Quisne  and  Turgot  by  their  moral  maxims  and 
systems  of  economy — readers  of  every  class  met  with  something 
to  their  taste,  and  a  spirit  of  political  inquiry  began  to  diffuse 
itself  through  the  nation  at  the  time  the  dispute  between  Eng- 
land and  the  then  colonies  of  America  broke  out. 

In  the  war  which  France  afterwards  engaged  in,  it  is  very 


288  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

well  known  that  the  nation  appeared  to  \#>  befprehand  with  the 
French  ministry.  Each  of  them  had  its  views;  but  those  views 
were  directed  to  different  objects;  the  one  sought  liberty  and 
the  other  retaliation  on  England.  The  French  officers  and  sol- 
diers who  after  this  went  to  America,  were  eventually  placed 
in  the  school  of  freedom,  and  learned  the  practice  as  well  as  the 
principles  of  it  by  heart. 

As  it  was  impossible  to  separate  the  military  events  which 
took  place  in  America  from  the  principles  of  the  American 
revolution,  the  publication  of  those  events  in  France  necessarily 
connected  themselves  with  the  principles  that  produced  them. 
Many  of  the  facts  were  in  themselves  principles:  such  as  the 
declaration  of  American  Independence,  and  the  treaty  of  alliance 
between  France  and  America,  which  recognized  the  natural 
rights  of  man,  and  justified  resistance  to  oppression. 

The  then  minister  of  France,  count  Vergennes,  was  not  the 
friend  of  America;  and  it  is  both  justice  and  gratitude  to  say, 
that  it  was  the  queen  of  France  who  gave  the  cause  of  America 
a  fashion  at  the  French  court.  Count  Vergennes  was  the 
personal  and  social  friend  of  Dr.  Franklin;  and  the  doctor  had 
obtained  by  his  sensible  gracefulness,  a  sort  of  influence  over 
him;  but  with  respect  to  principles,  count  Vergennes  was  a 
despot. 

The  situation  of  Dr.  Franklin  as  minister  from  America  to 
France  should  be  taken  into  the  chain  of  circumstances.  A 
diplomatic  character  is  the  narrowest  sphere  of  society  that 
man  can  act  in.  It  forbids  intercourse  by  a  reciprocity  of  sus- 
picion; and  a  diplomatist  is  a  sort  of  unconnected  atom,  con- 
tinually repelling  and  repelled.  But  this  was  not  the  case  with 
Dr.  Franklin ;  he  was  not  the  diplomatist  of  a  court  but  of  man. 
His  character  as  a  philosopher  had  been  long  established,  and 
his  circle  of  society  in  France  was  universal. 

Count  Vergennes  resisted  for  a  considerable  time  the  publica- 
tion of  the  American  constitutions  in  France,  translated  into 
the  French -language;  but  even  in  this  he  was  obliged  to  give 
way  to  public  opinion,  and  a  sort  of  propriety  in  admitting  to 
appear  what  he  had  undertaken  to  defend.  The  American 
constitutions  were  to  liberty,  what  a  grammar  is  to  language : 
they  define  its  parts  of  speech,  and  practically  construct  them 
into  syntax. 

The  peculiar  situation  of  the  then  marquis  de  la  Fayette  is 
another  link  in  the  great  chain.  He  served  im  America  as  an 


RIGHTS   OF  MAN.  289 

American  officer,  under  a  commission  of  congress,  and  by  the 
universality  of  his  acquaintance,  was  in  close  friendship  with 
the  civil  government  of  America  as  well  as  with  the  military 
line.  He  spoke  the  language  of  the  country,  entered  into  the 
discussions  on  the  principles  of  government,  and  was  always  a 
welcome  friend  at  any  election. 

When  the  war  closed,  a  vast  reinforcement  to  the  cause  of 
liberty  spread  itself  over  France,  by  the  return  of  the  French 
officers  and  soldiers.  A  knowledge  of  the  practice  was  then 
'oined  to  the  theory;  and  all  that  was  wanting  to  give  it  real 
existence,  was  opportunity.  Man  cannot,  properly  speaking, 
make  circumstances  for  his  purpose,  but  he  always  has  it  in  his 
power  to  improve  them  when  they  occur :  and  this  was  the  case 
in  France. 

M  Neckar  was  displaced  in  May,  1871 ;  and  by  the  ill  man- 
agement of  the  finances  afterwards,  and  particularly  during  the 
extravagant  administration  of  M.  Calonne,  the  revenue  of  France 
which  was  nearly  twenty-four  millions  sterling  per  year,  was 
become  unequal  to  the  expenditures,  not  because  the  revenue 
had  decreased,  but  because  the  expenses  had  increased,  and 
this  was  the  circumstance  which  the  nation  laid  hold  of  to  bring 
forward  a  revolution.  The  English  minister,  Mr.  Pitt,  has  fre- 
quently alluded  to  the  state  of  the  French  finances  in  his  bud- 
gets, without  understanding  the  subject.  Had  the  French  par- 
liaments been  as  ready  to  register  edicts  for  new  taxes  as  an 
English  parliament  is  to  grant  them,  there  had  been  no  derange- 
ment in  the  finances,  nor  yet  any  revolution;  but  this  will  better 
explain  itself  as  I  proceed. 

It  will  be  necessary  here  to  show  how  taxes  were  formerly 
raised  in  France.  The  king,  or  rather  the  court  or  ministry, 
acting  under  the  use  of  that  name,  framed  the  edicts  for  taxes 
at  their  own  discretion,  and  sent  them  to  the  parliaments  to  be 
registered;  for  until  they  were  registered  by  the  parliaments, 
they  were  not  operative.  Disputes  had  long  existed  between 
the  court  and  the  parliament  with  respect  to  the  extent  of  the 
parliament's  authority  on  this  head.  The  court  insisted  that 
the  authority  of  parliament  went  no  further  than  to  remonstrate 
or  show  reasons  against  the  tax,  reserving  to  itself  the  right 
of  determining  whether  the  reasons  were  well  or  ill-founded ;  and 
in  consequence  thereof,  either  to  withdraw  the  edict  as  a  matter 
of  choice,  or  to  order  it  to  be  registered  as  a  matter  of  authority. 
The  parliaments  on  their  part  insisted  that  they  had  not  only  a 


290  BIGHTS  OF   MAN. 

right  to  remonstrate,  but  to  reject ;  and  on  this  ground  they 
were  always  supported  by  the  nation. 

But  to  return  to  the  order  of  my  narrative. — M.  Calonne 
wanted  money ;  and  as  he  knew  the  sturdy  disposition  of  the 
parliaments  with  respect  to  new  taxes,  he  ingeniously  sought 
either  to  approach  them  by  a  more  gentle  means  than  that  of  di- 
rect authority,  or  to  get  over  their  heads  by  a  manreuvre :  and,  for 
this  purpose,  he  revived  the  project  of  assembling  a  body  of  men 
from  the  several  provinces,  under  the  style  of  an  "  assembly  of 
the  notables,"  or  men  of  note,  who  met  in  1787,  and  were  either 
to  recommend  taxes  to  the  parliaments,  or  to  act  as  a  parliament 
themselves.  An  assembly  under  this  name  had  been  called  in 
1687. 

As  we  are  to  view  this  as  the  first  practical  step  towards  the 
revolution,  it  will  be  proper  to  enter  into  some  particulars  res- 
pecting it.  The  assembly  of  the  notables  has  in  some  places 
been  mistaken  for  the  states-general,  but  was  wholly  a  different 
body ;  the  states-general  being  always  by  election.  The  persons 
who  composed  the  assembly  of  the  notables  were  all  nominated 
l>y  the  king,  and  consisted  of  one  hundred  and  forty  members. 
But  as  M.  Calonne  could  not  depend  upon  a  majority  of  this 
assembly  in  his  favor,  he  very  ingeniously  arranged  them  in  such 
a  manner  as  to  make  forty-four  a  majority  of  one  hundred  and 
t'orty :  to  this  effect  he  -disposed  of  them  into  seven  separate 
committees  of  twenty  members  each.  Every  general  question 
was  to  be  decided,  not  by  a  majority  of  persons,  but  by  a  ma- 
jority of  committees ;  and,  as  eleven  votes  would  make  a  majority 
in  a  committee,  and  four  committees  a  majority  of  seven,  M. 
Calonne  had  good  reason  to  conclude,  that  as  forty-four  would 
determine  any  general  question,  he  could  not  be  out- voted.  But 
all  his  plans  deceived  him,  and  in  the  event  became  his  over- 
throw. 

The  then  marquis  de  la  Fayette  was  placed  in  the  second  com- 
mittee, of  which  count  d'Artois  was  president;  and  as  money 
matters  was  the  object,  it  naturally  brought  into  view  every 
circumstance  connected  with  it.  M.  de  la  Fayette  made  a  ver- 
bal charge  against  Calonne,  for  selling  crown  land  to  the  amount 
of  two  millions  of  livres,  in  a  manner  that  appeared  to  be  un- 
known to  the  king.  The  count  d'Artois  (as  if  to  intimidate,  for 
the  Bastile  was  then  in  being)  asked  the  marquis  if  he  would 
render  tne  charge  in  writing?  He  replied  that  he  would.  The 
count  d'Artois  did  not  demand  it,  but  brought  a  message  from 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  21)1 

the  king  to  that  purport.  M.  de  la  Fayette  then  delivered  in 
his  charge  in  writing,  to  be  given  to  the  king,  undertaking  to 
support  it.  No  further  proceedings  were  had  upon  this  affair; 
but  M.  Calonne  was  soon  after  dismissed  by  the  king,  and  went 
to  England. 

AsM.de  la  Fayette,  from  the  experience  he  had  had  in  America, 
was  better  acquainted  with  the  science  of  civil  government  than 
the  generality  of  the  members  who  composed  the  assembly  of  the 
notables  could  then  be,  the  brunt  of  the  business  fell  considerably 
to  his  share.  The  plan  of  those  who  had  a  constitution  in  view, 
was  to  contend  with  the  court  on  the  ground  of  taxes,  and  some 
of  them  openly  professed  their  object.  Disputes  frequently 
arose  between  count  d'Artois  and  M.  de  la  Fayette  upon  vari- 
ous subjects.  With  respect  to  the  arrears  already  incurred,  the 
latter  promised  to  remedy  them,  by  accommodating  the  expenses 
to  the  revenue,  instead  of  the  revenue  to  the  expenses ;  and  as 
objects  of  reform,  he  proposed  to  abolish  the  Bastile,  and  all  the 
state  prisoners  throughout  the  nation  (the  keeping  of  which  was 
attended  with  great  expense)  and  to  suppress  lettres  de  cachet; 
but  those  matters  were  not  then  much  attendad  to;  and  with 
respect  to  lettres  de  cachet,  a  majority  of  the  nobles  appeared  to  be 
in  favor  of  them. 

On  the  subject  of  supplying  the  treasury  by  new  taxes,  the 
assembly 'declined  taking  the  matter  on  themselves,  concurring 
in  the  opinion  that  they  had  not  authority.  In  a  debate  on  the 
subject,  M.  de  la  Fayette  said,  that  raising  money  by  taxes  could 
only  be  doae  by  a  national  assembly,  freely  elected  by  the  peo- 
ple and  acting  as  their  representatives.  Do  you  mean,  said  the 
count  d'Artois,  the  states-general  ?  M.  de  la  Fayette  replied, 
that  he  did.  Will  you,  said  the  count  d'Artois,  sign  what  you 
say,  to  be  given  to  the  king  ]  The  other  replied,  that  he  not 
only  would  do  this,  but  that  he  would  go  further,  and  say,  that  the 
effectual  mode  would  be  for  the  king  to  agree  to  the  establish- 
ment of  a  constitution. 

As  one  of  the  plans  had  thus  failed,  that  of  getting  the  assem- 
bly to  act  as  a  parliament,  the  other  came  into  view,  that  of  re- 
commending. On  this  subject,  the  assembly  agreed  to  recom- 
mend two  new  taxes  to  be  enregistered  by  the  parliament,  the 
one  a  stamp-act,  and  the  other  a  territorial  tax,  or  sort  of  land 
tax.  The  two  have  been  estimated  at  about  five  millions  ster- 
ling per  annum.  We  have  now  to  turn  our  attention  to  the 
.parliaments,  on  whom  the  business  was  again  devolving. 


292  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

The  archbishop  of  Toulouse  (since  archbishop  of  Sena,  and 
now  a  cardinal)  was  appointed  to  the  administration  of  the 
finances,  soon  after  thp  dismission  of  Calonne.  He  was  also 
made  prime  minister,  an  office  that  did  not  always  exist  in 
France.  When  this  office  did  not  exist,  the  chief  of  each  of  the 
principal  departments  transacted  business  immediately  with 
the  king;  but  when  the  prime  minister  was  appointed,  they  did 
business  only  with  him.  The  archbishop  arrived  to  more  state- 
authority  than  any  minister  since  the  duke  de.Choiseuil,  and  the 
nation  was  strongly  disposed  in  his  favor;  but  by  a  line  of  con- 
duct scarcely  to  be  accounted  for,  he  perverted  every  opportunity, 
turned  out  a  despot,  and  sunk  into  disgrace,  and  a  cardinal. 

The  assembly  of  the  notables  having  broken  up,  the  new 
minister  sent  the  edicts  for  the  two  new  taxes  recommended  by 
the  assembly  to  the  parliament,  to  be  enregistered.  They  of 
course  came  first  bef ore  the  parliament  of  Paris,  who  returned  for 
answer:  That  with  stick  a  revenue  as  the  nation  tlien  supported, 
the  name  of  taxes  ought  not  to  be  mentioned,  but  for  the- purpose 
of  reducing  them;  and  threw  both  the  edicts  out.* 

On  this  refusal,  the  Parliament  was  ordered  to  Versailles, 
where  in  the  usual  form,  the  king" held,  what  under  the  old 
government  was  called  a  bed  of  justice:  and  the  two  edicts 
were  enregistered  in  presence  of  the  parliament,  by  an  order 
of  state,  in  the  manner  mentioned,  p.  58.  On  this,  t"he  parlia- 
ment immediately  returned  to  Paris,  renewed  their  session  in 
form,  and  ordered  the  registering  to  be  struck  out,  declaring 
that  everything  done  at  Versailles  was  illegal.  All  the  mem- 
bers of  parliament  were  then  served  with  lettres  de  cachet,  and 
exiled  to  Trois;  but  as  they  continued  as  inflexible  in  exile  as 
before,  and  as  vengeance  did  not  supply  the  place  of  taxes,  they 
were  after  a  short  time  recalled  to  Paris. 

The  edicts  were  again  tendered  to  them,  and  the  count 
d'Artois  undertook  to  act  as  representative  for  the  king. — For 
this  purpose,  he  came  from  Versailles  to  Paris,  in  a  train  of 
procession;  and  the  parliament  was  assembled  to  receive  him. 
But  show  and  parade  had  lost  their  influence  in  France;  and 
whatever  ideas  of  importance  he  might  set  off  with,  he  had  to 
return  with  those  of  mortification  and  disappointment.  On 
alighting  from  his  carriage  to  ascend  the  steps  of  the  parlia- 

*  When  the  English  minister,  Mr.  Pitt,  mentions  the  French  finances  a^ain- 
in  the  English  parliament,  it  would  be  well  that  he  noticed  this  as  an  ex- 
ample. 


RIGHTS   OF  MAN.  203 

ment  house,  the  crowd  (which  was  numerously  collected)  threw 
out  trite  expressions,  saying,  "This  is  monsieur  d'Artois,  who 
wants  more  of  our  money  to  spend."  The  marked  disapproba- 
tion which  he  saw,  impressed  him  with  apprehensions;  and  the 
word  aux  armes !  (to  arms !)  was  given  out  by  the  officer  of  the 
guard  who  attended  him.  It  was  so  loudly  vociferated,  that  it 
echoed  through  the  avenues  of  the  hoi.a«,  and  produced  a  tem- 
porary confusion :  I  was  then  standing  in  one  of  the  apartments 
through  which  he  had  to  pass,  and  could  not  avoid  reflecting 
how  wretched  is  the  condition  of  a  disrespected  man. 

He  endeavored  to  impress  the  parliament  by  great  words, 
and  opened  his  authority  by  saying,  "  The  king,  our  lord  and 
master."  The  parliament  received  him  very  coolly,  and  with 
their  usual  determination  not  to  register  the  taxes;  and  in  this 
manner  the  interview  ended. 

After  this  a  new  subject  took  place.  In  the  various  debates 
and  contests  that  arose  between  the  court  and  the  parliaments 
on  the  subject  of  taxes,  the  parliament  of  Paris  at  last  declared 
that,  although  it  had  been  customary  for  parliaments  to  enreg- 
ister  edicts  for  taxes  as  a  matter  of  convenience,  the  right 
belonged  only  to  the  states-general :  and  that,  therefore,  the  par- 
liaments could  no  longer  with  propriety  continue  to  debate  on 
what  it  had  not  authority  to  act.  The  king,  after  this,  came 
to  Paris,  and  held  a  meeting  with  the  parliament,  in  which  he 
continued  from  ten  in  the  morning  till  about  six  in  the  even- 
ing; and,  in  a  manner  that  appeared  to  proceed  from  him,  as 
if  unconsulted  upon  with  the  cabinet  or  the  ministry,  gave  his 
word  to  the  parliament  that  the  states-general  should  be  con- 
vened. 

But,  after  this,  another  scene  arose,  on  a  ground  different 
from  all  the  former.  The  minister  and  the  cabinet  were  averse 
to  calling  the  states-general:  they  well  knew,  that  if  the  states- 
general  were  assembled,  they  themselves  must  fall;  and  as  the 
king  had  not  mentioned  any  time,  they  hit  on  a  project  calcu- 
lated to  elude,  without  appearing  to  oppose. 

For  this  purpose  the  court  set  about  making  a  sort  of  consti- 
Lution  itself:  it  was  principally  the  work  of  M.  Lamoignon, 
keeper  of  the  seals,  who  afterwards  shot  himself.  The  arrange- 
ment consisted  in  establishing  a  body  under  the  name  of  a  cour 
j)iemere,  or  rull  court,  in  which  were  invested  all  the  power 
that  the  government  might  have  occasion  to  make  use  of. 
The  persons  composing  this  court  were  to  be  nominated  by  the 


21)4  RIGHTS   OF  MAN. 

king;  the  contended  right  of  taxation  was  given  up  on  the 
pare  of  the  king,  and  a  new  criminal  code  of  laws,  and  law 
proceedings,  was  substituted  in  the  room  of  the  former.  The 
thing,  in  many  points,  contained  better  principles  than  those 
upon  which  the  government  had  hitherto  been  administered; 
but,  with  respect  to  the  cour  pleniere,  it  was  no  other  than  a 
medium  through  which  despotism  was  to  pass,  without  appear- 
ing to  act  directly  from  itself. 

The  cabinet  had  high  expectations  from  their  new  contri- 
vance. The  persons  who  were  to  compose  the  cour  pleniere, 
were  already  nominated;  and  as  it  was  necessary  to  carry  a 
fair  appearance,  many  of  the  best  characters  in  the  nation  were 
appointed  among  the  number.  It  was  to  commence  on  the  8th 
of  May,  1788;  but  an  opposition  arose  to  it,  on  two  grounds — 
the  one  as  to  principle,  the  other  as  to  form. 

On  the  ground  of  principle,  it  was  contended,  that  govern- 
ment had  not  a  right  to  alter  itself;  and  that  if  the  practice 
was  once  admitted  it  would  grow  into  a  principle,  and  be  made 
a  precedent  for  any  future  alterations  the  government  might 
wish  to  establish;  that  the  right  of  altering  the  government 
was  a  national  right,  and  not  a  right  of  government.  And  on 
the  ground  of  form  it  was  contended  that  the  cour  pleniere  was 
nothing  more  than  a  large  cabinet. 

The  then  dukes  de  la  Rochefoucault,  Luxembourg,  de  Noailles, 
and  many  others,  refused  to  accept  the  nomination,  and  strenu- 
ously opposed  the  whole  plan.  When  the  edict  for  establishing 
this  new  court  was  sent  to  the  parliaments  to  be  enregistered. 
and  put  into  execution,  they  resisted  also.  The  parliament  of 
Paris  not  only  refused,  but  denied  the  authority;  and  the  con- 
test renewed  itself  between  the  parliament  and  the  cabinet 
more  strongly  then  ever.  While  the  parliament  was  sitting  in 
debate  on  this  subject,  the  ministry  ordered  a  regiment  of  sol- 
diers to  surround  the  house,  and  form  a  blockade.  The  mem- 
bers sent  out  for  beds  and  provision,  and  lived  as  in  a  besieged 
citadel;  and  as  this  had  no  effect,  the  commanding  officer  was 
ordered  to  enter  the  parliament  house  and  seize  them,  which  he 
did,  and  some  of  the  principal  members  were  shut  up  in  differ- 
ent prisons.  About  the  same  time  a  deputation  of  persons 
arrived  from  the  province  of  Britanny,  to  remonstrate  against 
the  establishment  of  the  cour  pleniere  ;  and  those  the  archbishop 
sent  to  the  Bastile.  But  the  spirit  of  the  nation  was  not  to  be 
overcome ;  and  it  wa»  jo  fully  sensible  of  the  strong  ground  it 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  295 

had  taken,  that  of  withholding  taxes,  thai  it  contented  itself 
with  keeping  up  a  sort  of  quiet  resistance,  which  effectually 
overthrew  all  the  plans  at  that  time  formed  against  it.  The 
project  of  the  cour  pleniere  was  at  last  obliged  to  be  given  up, 
and  the  prime  minister  not  long  afterwards  followed  its  fate; 
and  M.  Neckar  was  recalled  into  office. 

The  attempt  to  establish  the  cour  pleniere  had  an  effect  upon 
the  nation  which  was  not  anticipated.  It  was  a  sort  of  new 
form  of  government,  that  insensibly  served  to  put  the  old  one 
out  of  sight,  and  to  unhinge  it  from  the  supei'stitious  authority 
of  antiquity.  It  was  government  dethroning  government ;  and 
the  old  one,  by  attempting  to  make  a  new  one,  made  a  chasm. 

The  failure  of  this  scheme  renewed  the  subject  of  convening 
the  states-general :  and  this  gave  rise  to  a  new  series  of  politics. 
There  was  no  settled  form  for  convening  the  states-general ;  all 
that  it  positively  meant  was  a  deputation  from  what  was  then 
called  the  clergy,  the  nobility,  and  the  commons ;  but  their 
numbers,  or  their  proportions,  had  not  been  always  the  same. 
They  had  been  convened  only  on  extraordinary  occasions,  the 
last  of  which  was  in  1614;  their  members  were  then  in  equal 
proportions,  and  they  voted  by  orders. 

It  could  not  well  escape  the  sagacity  of  M.  Neckar,  that  the 
mode  of  1614  would  answer  neither  the  purpose  of  the  then 
government,  nor  of  the  nation.  As  matters  were  at  that  time 
circumstanced,  it  would  have  been  too  contentious  to  argue  upon 
anything.  The  debates  would  have  been  endless  upon  privi- 
leges and  exemptions,  in  which  neither  the  wants  of  the  govern- 
ment, nor  the  wishes  of  the  nation  for  a  constitution,  would 
have  been  attended  to.  But  as  he  did  not  choose  to  take  the 
decision  upon  himself,  he  summoned  again  the  assembly  of  the 
notables,  and  referred  it  to  them.  This  body  was  in  general 
interested  in  the  decision,  being  chiefly  of  the  aristocracy  and 
the  high  paid  clergy;  and  they  decided  in  favor  of  the  mode  of 
1614.  This  decision  was  against  the  sense  of  the  nation,  and 
also  against  the  wishes  of  the  court;  for  the  aristocracy  opposed 
itself  to  both,  and  contended  for  privileges  independent  of  either. 
The  subject  was  then  taken  up  by  the  parliament,  who  recom- 
mended that  the  number  of  the  commons  should  be  equal  to  the 
other  two;  and  that  they  should  all  sit  in  one  house,  and  vote  in 
one  body.  The  number  finally  determined  on  was  twelve  hun- 
dred; six  hundred  to  be  chosen  by  the  commons  (and  this  was 
less  then  their  proportion  ought  to  have  been  when  their  worth 


296  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

and  consequence  is  considered  on  a  national  scale),  three  hun- 
dred by  the  clergy,  and  three  hundred  by  the  aristocracy;  but 
with  respect  to  the  mode  of  assembling  themselves,  whether  to- 
gether or  apart,  or  the  manner  in  which  they  should  vote,  those 
matters  were  referred.* 

The  election  that  followed  was  not  a  contested  election,  but 
:in  animated  one.  The  candidates  were  not  men,  but  princi- 
ples. Societies  were  formed  in  Paris,  and  committees  of  cor- 
respondence and  communication  established  throughout  the 
nation,  for  the  purpose  of  enlightening  the  people,  and  explain- 
ing to  them  the  principles  of  civil  government;  and  so  orderly 
was  the  election  conducted,  that  it  did  not  give  rise  even  to  the 
rumor  of  tumult. 

The  states-general  were  to  meet  at  Versailles  in  April,  1789, 
but  did  not  assemble  till  May.  They  located  themselves  in 
three  separate  chambers,  or  rather  the  clergy  and  the  aristo- 
cracy withdrew  each  into  a  separate  chamber.  The  majority  of 
the  aristocracy  claimed  what  they  call  the  privilege  of  voting  as 
a  separate  body,  and  of  giving  their  consent  or  their  negative  in 
that  manner;  and  many  of  the  bishops  and  high-benenced  clergy 
claimed  the  same  privilege  on  the  part  of  their  order. 

The  tiers  etat  (as  they  were  called)  disowned  any  knowledge 
of  artificial  orders  and  privileges;  and  they  were  not  only  reso- 

*  Mr.  Burke  (and  I  must  take  the  liberty  of  telling  him  that  he  is  unac- 
quainted with  French  affairs),  speaking  upon  this  subject,  says,  "The  first 
thing  that  struck  me  in  calling  the  states-general,  was  a  great  departure  from 
the  ancient  course ;"  and  he  soon  after  says,  "  From  the  moment  I  read  the 
list,  I  saw  distinctly,  and  very  nearly  as  it  has  happened,  all  that  was  to 
follow."  Mr.  Burke  certainly  did  not  see  all  that  was  to  follow.  I  have 
endeavored  to  impress  him,  as  well  before  as  after  the  states-general  met, 
that  there  would  be  a  revolution;  but  was  not  able  to  make  him  see  it,  nei- 
ther would  he  believe  it.  How  then  he  could  distinctly  see  all  the  parts, 
when  the  whole  was  out  of  sight,  is  beyond  mjs  comprehension.  And  with 
respect  to  the  "departure  from  the  ancient  course,"  besides  the  natural  weak- 
ness of  the  remark,  it  shows  that  he  is  unacquainted  with  circumstances. 
The  departure  was  necessary,  from  the  experience  had  upon  it,  that  the  an- 
cient course  was  a  bad  one.  The  states-general  of  1614  were  called  at  the 
commencement  of  the  civil  war  in  the  minority  of  Louis  XIII. ;  but  by  the 
clash  of  arranging  them  by  orders,  they  increased  the  confusion  they  were 
called  to  compose.  The  author  of  "  L'lntriffue  du  Cabinet,"  ("  Intrigue  of  the 
Cabinet"),  who  wrote  before  any  revolution  was  thought  of  in  France,  speak- 
ing of  the  states-general  of  !Ci4,  says,  "They  held  the  public  in  suspense 
live  months,  and  by  the  questions  agitated  therein,  and  the  heat  with  which 
they  were  put,  it  appears  that  the  great  (les  grands)  thought  more  to  satisfy 
their  particular  passions,  then  to  procure  the  good  of  the  nation ;  and  th« 
whole  time  passed  away  in  altercations,  ceremonies  and  parade." — "L'In- 
trigue  du  Cabinet,"  vol.  i.  p.  329. 


BIGHTS   OF  MAN.  297 

lute  on  this  point  but  somewhat  disdainful.  They  began  to 
consider  aristocracy  as  a  kind  of  fungus  growing  out  of  the 
corruption  of  society,  that  could  not  be  admitted  even  as  a 
branch  of  it;  and  from  the  disposition  the  aristocracy  had 
shown,  by  upholding  lettres  de  cachet,  and  in  sundry  other  in- 
stances, it  was  manifest  that  no  constitution  could  be  formed 
by  admitting  men  in  any  other  character  than  as  national  men. 

After  various  altercations  on  this  head,  the  tiers  etat,  or 
commons  (as  they  were  then  called),  declared  themselves  (on  a 
motion  made  for  that  purpose  by  the  Abbe  Sieyes),  "  THK  REPRE- 
SENTATIVES OF  THE  NATION;  and  that  the  two  orders  could  be 
considered  but  as  deputies  of  corporations,  and  could  only  have 
a  deliberative  voice  but  ivlien  they  assembled  in  a  national  char- 
acter, with  the  national  representatives."  This  proceeding  ex- 
tinguished the  style  of  etats  generaux  or  states  general,  and 
erected  it  into  the  style  it  now  bears,  that  of  Vassemblee  nation- 
ale  or  national  assembly. 

This  motion  was  not  made  in  a  precipitate  manner  :  it  was 
the  result  of  cool  deliberation,  and  concerted  between  the  na- 
tional representatives  and  the  patriotic  members  of  the  two 
chambers,  who  saw  into  the  folly,  mischief,  and  injustice  of 
artificial  privileged  distinctions.  It  was  become  evident,  that 
no  constitution,  worthy  of  being  called  by  that  name,  could  be 
established  on  anything  less  than  a  national  ground.  The  aris- 
tocracy had  hitherto  opposed  the  despotism  of  the  court,  and 
affected  the  language  of  patriotism;  but  it  opposed  it  as  its 
rival  (as  the  English  barons  opposed  King  John),  and  it  now 
opposed  the  nation  from  the  same  motives. 

On  carrying  this  motion,  the  national  representatives,  as  had 
been  concerted,  sent  an  invitation  to  the  two  chambers,  to  unite 
with  them  in  a  national  character,  and  proceed  to  business.  A 
majority  of  the  clergy,  chiefly  of  the  parish  priests,  withdrew 
from  the  clerical  chamber,  and  joined  the  nation;  and  forty -five 
from  the  other  chamber  joined  in  like  manner.  There  is  a  son 
of  secret  history  belonging  to  this  last  circumstance,  which  is 
necessary  to  its  explanation:  it  was  not  judged  prudent  that  all 
the  patriotic  members  of  the  chamber,  styling  itself  the  nobles, 
should  quit  it  at  once  ;  and  in  consequence  of  this  arrangement, 
they  drew  off  by  degrees,  always  leaving  some,  as  well  to  rea- 
son the  case,  as  to  watch  the  suspected.  In  a  little  time,  the 
numbers  increased  from  forty-five  to  eighty,  and  soon  after  to  a 
greater  number;  which  with  a  majority  of  the  clergy  and  the 


298  RIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

whole  of  the  national  representatives,  put  the  malcontents  in  a 
very  diminutive  condition. 

The  king,  who,  very  different  to  the  general  class  called  by 
that  name,  is  a  man  of  a  good  heart,  showed  himself  disposed  to 
recommend  a  union  of  the  three  chambers,  on  the  ground  the 
national  assembly  had  taken;  but  the  malcontents  exerted 
themselves  to  prevent  it,  and  began  now  to  have  another  pro- 
ject in  view.  Their  numbers  consisted  of  a  majority  of  the 
aristocratical  chamber,  and  a  minority  of  the  clerical  chamber, 
chiefly  of  bishops  and  high  benefited  clergy;  and  these  men 
were  determined  to  put  everything  at  issue,  as  well  by  strengtn 
as  by  stratagem.  They  had  no  objection  to  a  constitution;  but 
it  must  be  such  an  one  as  themselves  should  dictate,  and 
suited  to  their  own  views  and  particular  situations.  On  tli^ 
other  hand,  the  nation  disowned  knowing  anything  of  them  bv  t 
as  citizens,  and  was  determined  to  shut  out  all  such  upstart  pn  - 
tensions.  The  more  aristocracy  appeared,  the  more  it  wa.- 
despised;  there  was  a  visible  imbecility  and  want  of  intellects 
in  the  majority,  a  sort  of  je  ne  sais  quoi,  that  while  it  affected 
to  be  more  than  citizen,  was  less  than  man.  It  lost  ground 
more  from  contempt  than  from  hatred:  and  was  rather  jeered 
at  as  an  ass  than  dreaded  as  a  lion.  This  is  the  general  char 
acter  of  aristocracy,  or  what  are  called  nobles  or  nobility,  or 
rather  no-ability,  in  all  countries. 

The  plan  of  the  malcontents  consisted  now  of  two  things : 
either  to  deliberate  and  vote  by  chambers  (or  orders),  mor*- 
especially  on  all  questions  respecting  a  constitution  (by  which 
the  aristocratical  chamber  would  have  had  a  negative  on  any 
article  of  the  constitution)  or,  in  case  they  could  not  accomplish 
this  object,  to  overthrow  the  national  assembly  entirely. 

To  affect  one  or  the  other  of  these  objects,  they  began  now 
to  cultivate  a  friendship  with  the  despotism  they  had  hitherto 
attempted  to  rival,  and  the  count  d'Artois  became  their  chief. 
Thaking  (who  has  since  declared  himself  deceived  into  their 
measures)  held,  according  to  the  old  form,  a  bed  of  justice,  in 
which  he  accorded  to  the  deliberation  and  vote  par  tete  (by  head) 
upon  several  objects;  but  reserved  the  deliberation  and  vote 
upon  all  questions  respecting  a  constitution  to  the  three  cham- 
bers separately.  This  declaration  of  the  king  was  made  against 
the  advice  of  M.  Neckar,  who  now  began  to  perceive  that  he 
was  growing  out  of  fashion  at  court,  and  that  another  minister 
was  in  contemplation. 


RIGHTS  OF  MAN.  299 

As  the  form  of  sitting  in  separate  chambers  was  yet  appar- 
ently kept  up,  though  essentially  destroyed,  the  national  repre- 
sentatives, immediately  after  this  declaration  of  the  king, 
resorted  to  their  chambers  to  consult  on  a  protest  against  it; 
and  the  minority  of  the  chamber  (calling  itself  the  nobles)  who 
had  joined  the  national  cause,  retired  to  a  private  house  to  con- 
sult in  like  manner.  The  malcontents  had  by  this  time  con- 
certed their  measures  with  the  court,  which  count  d'Artois 
undertook  to  conduct;  and  as  they  saw,  from  the  discontent 
which  the  declaration  excited,  and  the  opposition  making 
n.gainst  it,  that  they  could  not  obtain  a  control  over  .the  in- 
r  ended  constitution  by  a  separate  vote,  they  prepared  them- 
selves for  their  final  object — that  of  conspiring  against  the 
national  assembly,  and  overthrowing  it. 

The  next  morning,  the  door  of  the  chamber  of  the  national 
assembly  was  shut  against  them,  and  guarded  by  troops;  and 
the  members  were  refused  admittance.  On  this  they  withdrew 
to  a  tennis-ground  in  the  neighborhood  of  Versailles,  as  the 
most  convenient  place  they  could  find,  and,  after  renewing  their 
session,  took  an  oath  never  to  separate  from  each  other,  under 
any  circumstances  whatever,  death  excepted,  until  they  had 
established  a  constitution.  As  the  experiment  of  shutting  up 
the  house  had  no  other  effect  than  that  of  producing  a  closer 
Connexion  in  the  members,  it  was  opened  again  the  next  day, 
uid  the  public  business  recommenced  in  the  xisual  place. 

We  now  are  to  have  in  view  the  forming  the  new  ministry, 
which  was  to  accomplish  the  overthrow  of  the  national  assembly. 
But  as  force  would  be  necessary,  orders  were  issued  to  assemble 
thirty  thousand  troops,  the  command  of  which  was  given  to 
Broglio,  one  of  the  newly-intended  ministry,  who  was  recalled 
from  the  country  for  this  purpose.  But  as  some  management 
was  necessary  to  keep  this  plan  concealed  till  the  moment  it 
should  be  ready  for  execution,  it  is  to  this  policy  that  a  declar- 
ation made  by  the  count  d'Artois  must  be  attributed,  and  which 
is  here  proper  to  be  introduced. 

It  could  not  but  occur,  that  while  the  malcontents  continued 
to  resort  to  their  chambers  separate  from  the  national  assem- 
bly, that  more  jealousy  would  be  excited  than  if  they  were 
mixed  with  it,  and  that  the  plot  might  be  suspected.  But  as 
they  had  taken  their  ground,  and  now  wanted  a  pretence  for 
quitting  it,  it  was  necessary  that  one  should  be  devised.  This 
was  effectually  accomplished  by  u  declaration  made  by  count 


300  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

d'Artois,  that  "if  they  took  no  part  in  the  national  assembly, 
the  life  of  the  king  would  be  endangered"  on  which  they  quitted 
their  chambers  and  mixed  with  the  assembly  in  one  body. 

At  the  time  this  declaration  was  made,  it  was  generally 
treated  as  a  piece  of  absurdity  in  the  count  d'Artois,  arid  calcu- 
lated merely  to  relieve  the  outstanding  members  of  the  two 
chambers  from  the  diminutive  situation  they  were  put  in;  and 
if  nothing  more  had  followed,  this  conclusion  would  have  been 
good.  But  as  things  best  explain  themselves  by  events,  this 
apparent  union  was  only  a  cover  to  the  machinations  that  were 
secretly-  going  on,  and  the  declaration  accommodated  itself  to 
answer  that  purpose.  In  a  little  time  the  national  assembly 
found  itself  surrounded  by  troops,  and  thousands  daily  arriving. 
On  this  a  very  strong  declaration  was  made  by  the  national 
assembly  to  the  king,  remonstrating  on  the  impropriety  of  the 
measure,  and  demanding  the  reason.  The  king,  who  was  not 
in  the  secret  of  this  business,  as  himself  afterwards  declared, 
gave  substantially  for  answer,  that  he  had  no  other  object  in 
view  than  to  preserve  public  tranquillity,  which  appeared  to  be 
much  disturbed. 

But  in  a  few  days  from  this  time,  the  plot  unravelled  itself. 
M.  Nec,kar  and  the  ministry  were  displaced,  and  a  new  one 
formed  of  the  enemies  of  the  revolution;  and  Broglio,  with  be- 
tween twenty-five  arid  thirty  thousand  foreign  troops,  was 
arrived  to  support  them.  The  mask  was  now  thrown  off,  and 
matters  were  come  to  a  crisis.  The  event  was,  that  in  the 
space  of  three  days,  the  new  ministry  and  all  their  abbettors 
found  it  prudent  to  fly  the  nation;  the  Bastile  was  taken,  and 
Broglio  and  his  foreign  troops  dispersed;  as  is  already  related 
in  a  former  part  of  this  work. 

There  are  some  curious  circumstances  in  the  history  of  this 
short-lived  ministry,  and  this  brief  attempt  at  a  counter-revolu- 
tion. The  palace  of  Versailles,  where  the  court  was  sitting, 
was  not  more  than  four  hundred  yards  distant  from  the  hall 
where  the  national  assembly  was  sitting.  The  two  places  were 
at  this  moment  like  the  separate  headquarters  of  two  combatant 
enemies;  yet  the  court  was  as  perfectly  ignorant  of  the  informa- 
tion which  had  arrived  from  Paris  to  the  national  assembly,  as 
if  it  had  resided  at  a  hundred  miles  distance.  The  then  marquis 
de  la  Fayette,  who  (as  has  been  already  mentioned)  was  chosen 
to  preside  in  the  national  assembly  on  this  particular  occasion, 
named,  by  order  of  the  assembly,  three  successive  deputations 


EIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

to  the  king,  on  the  day,  and  up  to  the  evening  on  which  the 
Eastile  was  taken,  to  inform  and  confer  with  him  on  the  state 
of  affairs;  but  the  ministry,  who  knew  not  so  much  as  that  it 
was  attacked,  precluded  all  communication,  and  were  solacing 
themselves  how  dexterously  they  had  succeeded :  but  in  a  few 
hours  the  accounts  arrived  so  thick  and  fast,  that  they  had  to 
start  from  their  desks  and  run;  some  set  off  in  one  disguise 
and  some  in  another,  and  none  in  their  own  character.  1he/l 
anxiety  now  was  to  outride  the  news,  lest  they  should  be 
stopped,  which,  though  it  flew  flast,  flew  not  so  fast  as  them- 
selves. 

It  is  worth  remarking,  that  the  national  assembly  neither 
pursued  those  fugitive  conspirators,  nor  took  any  notice  of 
them,  nor  sought  to  retaliate  in  any  shape  whatever.  Occupied 
with  establishing  a  constitution,  founded  on  the  rights  of  man 
and  the  authority  of  the  people,  the  only  authority  on  which 
government  has  a  right  to  exist  in  any  country,  the  national 
assembly  felt  none  of  those  mean  passions  which  mark  the 
character  of  impertinent  governments,  founding  themselves  on 
their  own  authority,  or  on  the  absurdity  of  hereditary  succession. 
It  is  the  faculty  of  the  human  mind  to  become  what  it  contem- 
plates, and  to  act  in  unison  with  its  object. 

The  conspiracy  being  thus  dispersed,  one  of  the  first  works 
of  the  national  assembly,  instead  of  vindicitive  proclamations, 
as  has  been  the  case  with  other  governments,  published  a  declara- 
tion of  the  rights  of  man,  as  the  basis  on  which  the  new  consti- 
tution was  to  be  built,  and  which  is  here  subjoined, 

Declaration  of  the  rights  of  man  and  of  citizens:  by  the  national 
assembly  of  France. 

"  The  representatives  of  the  people  of  France,  formed  into  a 
national  assembly,  considering  that  ignorance,  neglect,  or  con- 
tempt of  human  rights,  are  the  sole  causes  of  public  misfortunes, 
and  corruptions  of  government,  have  resolved  to  set  forth,  in  a 
solemn  declaration,  these  natural,  imprescriptible,  and  unalien- 
fible  rights:  that  this  declaration  being  constantly  present  to 
the  minds  of  the  body  social,  they  may  be  ever  kept  attentive  to 
their  rights  and  their  duties:  that  the  acts  of  the  legislative 
and  executive  powers  of  government,  being  capable  of  being 
every  moment  compared  with  the  end  of  political  institutions, 
•may  be  more  respected :  and  <Uso,  that  the  future  claims  of  the 


C02  RIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

citizens,  being  directed  by  simple  and  incontestalle  principles, 
may  always  tend  to  the  maintenance  of  the  constitution  and 
the  general  happiness. 

"  For  these  reasons  the  national  assembly  doth  recognize  and 
declare,  in  the  presence  of  the  Supreme  Being,  and  with  the  hope 
of  his  blessing  and  favor,  the  following  sacred  rights  of  men  and 
of  citizens: 

"  I.  Men  are  born  and  always  continue  free  and  equal  in 
respect  of  their  rights.  Civil  distinctions,  therefore,  can  only 
be  founded  on  public  utility. 

"  II.  The  end  of  all  political  associations  is  the  preservation 
of  the  natural  and  imprescriptible  rights  ol  man;  and  these 
rights  are  liberty,  property,  security,  and  resistance  of  oppres- 
sion. 

"  III.  The  nation  is  essentially  the  source  of  all  sovereignty : 
nor  can  any  individual  or  any  body  of  wen,  be  entitled  to  any 
authority  which  is  not  expressly  derived  from  it 

"  IV.  Political  liberty  consists  in  the  power  of  doing  what- 
ever does  not  injure  another.  The  exercise  of  the  natural  rights 
of  every  man  has  no  other  limits  than  those  which  are  necessary 
to  secure  to  every  other  man  the  free  exercise  of  the  same 
rights;  and  these  limits  are  determinable  only  by  law. 

"V.  The  law  ought  to  prohibit  only  actions  hurtful  to  so- 
ciety. What  is  not  prohibited  by  the  law,  should  not  be 
hindered ,  nor  should  any  one  be  compelled  to  that  which  the 
law  does  not  require. 

"  VI.  The  law  is  an  expression  of  the  will  of  the  community. 
All  citizens  have  a  right  to  concur,  either  personally,  or  by 
their  representatives,  in  its  formation.  It  should  be  the  same 
to  all,  whether  it  protects  or  punishes;  and  all  being  equal  in 
its  sight,  are  equally  eligible  to  all  honors,  places,  and  employ- 
ments, according  to  their  different  abilities,  without  any  other 
distinction  than  that  created  by  their  virtues  and  talents. 

"  VII.  No  man  should  be  accused,  arrested,  or  held  in  con- 
finement, except  in  cases  determined  by  the  law,  and  according 
to  the  forms  which  it  has  prescribed.  All  who  promote,  solicit, 
execute,  or  cause  to  be  executed,  arbitrary  orders,  ought  to  be 
punished;  and  every  citizen  called  upon  or  apprehended  by 
virtue  of  the  law,  ought  immediately  to  obey,  and  not  render 
himself  culpable  by  resistance. 

"VIII.  The  law  ought  to  impose  no  other  penalties  than 
such  as  are  absolutely  and  evid^Jy  necessary;  and  no  one 


EIGHTS   OF   MAN.  303 

ought  to  be  punished,  but  in  virtue  of  a  law  pr  mulgated  before 
the  offence  and  legally  applied. 

"  IX.  Every  man  being  presumed  innocen  till  he  has  been 
convicted,  whenever  his  detention  becomes  indispensable,  all 
rigor  to  him,  more  than  is  necessary  to  secure  his  person,  ought 
to  be  provided  against  by  the  law. 

"  X.  No  man  ought  to  be  molested  on  account  of  his  opin- 
ions, not  even  on  account  of  his  religious  opinions,  provided  his 
avowal  of  them  does  not  disturb  the  public  order  established  by 
the  law. 

"XI.  The  unrestrained  communication  of  thoughts  and 
opinions  being  one  of  the  most  precious  rights  of  man,  every 
citizen  may  speak,  write,  and  publish  freely,  provided  he  is  re- 
sposible  for  the  abuse  of  this  liberty  in  cases  determined  by  the 
law. 

"  XII.  A  public  force  being  necessary  to  give  security  to 
the  rights  of  men  and  of  citizens,  that  force  is  instituted  for  the 
benefit  of  the  community,  and  not  for  the  particular  benefit  of 
the  persons  with  whom  it  is  intrusted. 

"XIII.  A  common  contribution  being  necessary  for  the 
support  of  the  public  force,  and  for  defraying  the  other  expenses 
of  government,  it  ought  to  be  divided  equally  among  the  mem- 
bers of  the  community,  according  to  their  abilities. 

"  XI Y.  Every  citizen  has  a  right,  either  by  himself  or  his 
representative,  to  a  free  voice  in  determining  the  necessity  of 
public  contributions,  the  appropriation  of  them,  and  their 
amount,  mode  of  assessment,  and  duration, 

"  XV.  Every  community  has  a  right  to  demand  of  all  its 
agents  an  account  of  their  conduct 

"XVI.  Every  community  in  which  a  separation  of  powers 
and  a  security  of  rights  is  not  provided  for,  wants  a  constitu- 
tion. 

"  XVII.  The  right  to  property  being  inviolable  and  sacred, 
no  one  ought  to  be  deprived  of  it,  ereept  in  cases  of  evident 
public  necessity  legally  ascertained,  ***+ 1  on  condition  of  a  pre- 
vious just  indemnity." 

Observations  on  the  declaration  of  rights. 

The  three  first  articles  comprehend  in  general  terms  the  whole 
of  a  declaration  of  rights  ;  all  the  succeeding  articles  either 
originate  out  of  them,  or  follow  as  elucidations.  The  4th,  5th, 


304  EIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

and  6th,  define  more  particularly  what  is  only  generally  ex- 
pressed in  the  1st,  2nd,  and  3rd. 

The  7th,  8th,  9th,  10th,  and  llth  articles  are  declaratory  of 
principles  upon  which  laws  shall  be  construed  comforinable  to 
rights  already  declared.  But  it  is  questioned  by  some  very  good 
people  in  France,  as  well  as  in  other  countries,  whether  the  10th 
article  sufficiently  guarantees  the  right  it  is  intended  to  accord 
with:  besides  which,  it  takes  off  from  the  divine  diginity  of 
religion,  and  weakens  its  operative  force  upon  the  mind  to  make 
it  a  subject  of  human  laws.  It  then  presents  itself  to  man,  like 
light  intercepted  by  a  cloudy  medium,  in  which  the  source  of  it 
is  obscured  from  his  sight,  and  he  sees  nothing  to  reverence  in 
the  dusky  rays.* 

The  remaining  articles,  beginning  with  the  12th,  are  sub- 
stantially contained  in  the  principles  of  the  preceding  articles ; 
but,  in  the  particular  situation  in  which  France  then  was,  hav- 
ing to  undo  what  was  wrong,  as  well  as  to  set  up  what  was  right, 
it  was  proper  to  be  more  particular  than  in  another  condition  of 
things  would  be  necessary. 

While  the  declaration  of  rights  was  before  the  national  assem- 
bly, some  of  its  members  remarked,  that  if  a  declaration  of  rights 
was  published,  it  should  be  accompanied  by  a  declaration  of 
duties.  The  observation  discovered  a  mind  that  reflected,  and 
it  only  erred  by  not  reflecting  far  enough.  A  declaration  of 
rights  is,  by  reciprocity,  a  declaration  of  duties  also.  Whatever 
is  my  right  as  a  man,  is  also  the  right  of  another;  and  it  becomes 
my  duty  to  guarantee,  as  well  as  to  possess. 

The  three  first  articles  are  the  basis  of  liberty,  as  well  indi- 
vidual as  national ;  nor  can  any  country  be  called  free,  whose 
government  does  not  take  its  beginning  from  the  principles  they 

*  There  is  a  single  idea,  which,  if  it  strikes  rightly  upon  the  mind,  either 
in  a  legal  or  a  religious  sense,  will  prevent  any  man  or  any  body  of  men,  or 
any  government,  from  going  wrong  on  the  subject  of  religion ;  which  is,  that 
before  any  human  institutions  of  gover"~~^t  were  known  in  the  world,  there 


existed,  if  I  may  so  express  it,  a  compH.^,  between  God  and  man,  from  the 
beginning  of  time ;  and  that  as  the  relation  and  condition  whic7..  man  in^his 
individual  person  stands  in  towards  his  Maker  cannot  be  changed,  by  ly 


human  laws  or  human  authority,  that  religious  devotion,  which  is  a  par.,  of 
this  compact,  cannot  so  much  as  be  made  a  subject  of  human  laws  ;  and  that 
all  laws  must  conform  themselves  to  this  prior  existing  compact,  and  not 
assume  to  make  the  compact  conform  to  the  laws,  which,  besides  being  hu- 
man, are  subsequent  thereto.  The  first  act  of  man,  when  he  looked  around 
and  saw  himself  a  creature  which  he  did  not  make,  and  a  world  furnished 
for  his  reception,  must  have  been  devotion ;  and  devotion  must  ever  continue 
•acr  *  to  every  individual  man,  as  it  appears  right  to  him ;  and  govern- 
•  do  mischief  bv  interfering. 


RIGHTS   OF  MAN.  305 

contain,  and  continue  to  preserve  them  pure  :  and  the  whole  of 
the  declaration  of  rights  isi  of  more  value  to  the  world,  and  will 
do  more  good,  than  all  the  laws  and  statutes  that  have  yet  been 
promulgated. 

In  the  declaratory  exordium  which  prefaces  the  declaration 
of  rights,  we  see  the  solemn  and  majestic  spectacle  of  a  nation 
opening  its  commission,  under  the  auspices  of  its  Creator,  to 
establish  a  government;  a  scene  so  new,  and  so  transcendently 
unequalled  by  anything  in  the  European  world,  that  the  name 
of  a  revolution  is  inexpressive  of  its  character,  and  it  rises  into 
a  regeneration  of  man.  What  are  the  present  governments  of 
Europe,  but  a  scene  of  iniquity  and  oppression1?  What  is  that 
of  England  1  Do  not  its  own  inhabitants  say,  it  is  a  market 
where  every  man  has  his  price,  and  where  corruption  is  common 
traffic,  at  the  expense  of  a  deluded  people?  No  wonder,  then, 
that  the  French  revolution  is  traduced.  Had  it  confined  itself 
merely  to  the  destruction  of  flagrant  despotism',  perhaps  Mr. 
Burke  and  some  others  had  been  silent.  Their  cry  now  is,  "It 
has  gone  too  far :"  that  is,  gone  too  far  for  them.  It  stares  cor- 
ruption in  the  face,  and  the  venal  tribe  are  all  alarmed.  Their 
fear  discovers  itself  in  their  outrage,  and  they  are  but  publish- 
ing the  groans  of  a  wounded  vice.  But  from  such  opposition, 
the  French  revolution,  instead  of  suffering,  receives  homage. 
The  more  it  is  struck,  the  more  sparks -will  it  emit;  and  the  fear 
is,  it  will  not  be  struck  enough.  It  has  nothing  to  dread  from 
attacks.  Truth  has  given  it  an  establishment;  and  time  will 
record  it  with  a  name  as  lasting  as  its  own. 

Having  now  traced  the  progress  of  the  French  revolution 
through  most  of  its  principal  stages,  from  its  commencement  to 
the  taking  of  the  Bastile,  and  its  establishment  by  the  declaration 
of  rights,  I  will  close  the  subject  with  the  energetic  apostrophe 
of  M.  de  la  Fayette — May  this  great  monument  raised  to  Liberty, 
serve  as  a  lesson  to  the  oppressor,  and  an  example  to  tlie  op- 
pressed! * 

*  See  p.  244  of  this  work.— N.B.  Since  the  taking  the  Bastile,  the  occur 
rences  have  been  published :  but  the  matters  recorded  in  this  narrative  are 
prior  to  that  period,  and  some  of  them,  as  may  easily  be  seen,  can  be  but 
very  little  known. 


MISCELLANEOUS  CHAPTER 

To  prevent  interrupting  the  argument  in  the  preceding  pan 
of  this  work,  or  the  narrative  that  follows  it,  I  reserved  some 
observations  to  be  thrown  together  into  a  miscellaneous  chapter ; 
by  which  variety  might  not  be  censured  for  confusion.  Mr. 
Burke's  book  is  all  miscellany.  His  intention  was  to  make  an 
attack  on  the  French  revolution;  but  instead  of  proceeding  with 
an  orderly  arrangement,  he  has  stormed  it  with  a  mob  of  ideas, 
tumbling  over  and  destroying  one  another. 

But  this  confusion  and  contradiction  in  Mr.  Burke's  book,  is 
easily  accounted  for.  When  a  man  in  any  cause  attempts  to 
steer  his  course  by  anything  else  than  some  popular  truth  or 
principle,  he  is  sure  to  be  lost.  It  is  beyond  the  compass  of  his 
capacity  to  keep  all  the  parts  of  an  argument  together,  and 
make  them  unite  in  one  issue,  by  any  other  means  than  hav- 
ing his  guide  always  in  view.  Neither  memory  nor  invention 
will  supply  the  want  of  it.  The  former  fails  him,  and  the 
latter  betrays  him. 

Notwithstanding  the  nonsense,  for  it  deserves  no  bette 
name,  that  Mr.  Burke  has  asserted  about  hereditary  rights 
and  hereditary  succession,  and  that  a  nation  has  not  a  right  to 
form  a  government  for  itself,  it  happened  to  fall  in  his  way  to 
give  some  account  of  what  government  is.  "  Government," 
says  he,  "is  a  contrivance  of  human  wisdom." 

Admitting  that  government  is  a  contrivance  of  human  wis- 
dom, it  must  necessarily  follow  that  hereditary  succession  and 
hereditary  rights  (as  they  are  called)  can  make  no  part  of  it, 
because  it  is  impossible  to  make  wisdom  hereditary;  and,  on 
the  other  hand,  t/uit  cannot  be  a  wise  contrivance,  which  in  its 
operation  may  commit  the  government  of  a  nation  to  the 
wisdom  of  an  idiot.  The  ground  which  Mr.  Burke  now  takes 
is  fatal  to  every  part  of  his  cause.  The  argument  changes  from 
hereditary  rights  to  hereditary  wisdom  ;  and  the  question  is, 
who  is  the  wisest  man  ?  He  must  now  show  that  everyone  in 
the  line  of  hereditary  succession  was  a  Solomon,  or  his  title  is 
not  good  to  be  a  king.  What  a  stroke  has  Mr.  Burke  now 
made !  to  use  a  sailor's  phrase  he  has  swabbed  the  deck,  and 
scarcely  left  a  name  legible  in  the  list  of  kings;  and  he  has 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  o07 

mowed  down  and  thinned  the  house  of  peers  with  a  scythe  aa 
formidable  as  death  and  time. 

But  Mr.  Burke  appears  to  have  been  aware  of  this  retort, 
and  he  has  taken  care  to  guard  against  it,  by  making  govern- 
ment to  be  not  only  a  contrivance  of  human  wisdom,  but  a 
monopoly  of  wisdom.  He  puts  the  nation  as  fools  on  one  side, 
and  places  his  government  of  wisdom,  all  wise  men  of  Gotham, 
on  the  other  side;  and  he  then  proclaims,  and  says  that  "men 
have  a  RIGHT  that  their  WANTS  should  be  provided  for  by  thu 
wisdom."  Having  thus  made  proclamation,  he  next  proceeda 
to  explain  to  them  what  their  wants  are,  and  also  what  theii 
rights  are.  In  this  he  has  succeeded  dexterously,  for  he  makes 
their  wants  to  be  a  want  of  wisdom;  but  as  this  is  but  cold 
comfort,  he  then  informs  them,  that  they  have  a  right  (not  to 
any  of  the  wisdom)  but  to  be  governed  by  it;  and  in  order  to 
impress  them  with  a  solemn  reverence  for  this  monopoly- 
government  of  wisdom,  and  of  its  vast  capacity  for  all  purposes, 
possible  or  inpossible,  right  or  wrong,  he  proceeds  with  astro- 
logical, mysterious  importance,  to  tell  them  its  powers  in  these 
words — "  The  rights  of  men  in  government  ave  their  advan- 
tages: and  these  are  often  in  balances  between  differences  oi 
good;  and  in  compromises  sometimes  between  good  and  evil, 
and  sometimes  between  evil  and  evil.  Political  reason  is  a 
computing  principle;  adding,  subtracting,  multiplying,  and 
dividing,  morally  and  not  metaphysically  or  matiiematically, 
true  moral  demonstrations." 

As  the  wondering  audience  whom  Mr.  Burke  supposes  him- 
self talking  to,  may  not  understand  all  this  jargon,  I  will  under- 
take to  be  its  interpteter.  The  meaning  then,  good  people,  of 
all  this  is,  that  government  is  governed  by  no  principle  whatever; 
that  it  can  make  evil  good,  or  good  evil,  just  as  it  pleases.  In 
short,  that  government  is  arbitrary  pou-er. 

But  there  are  some  things  which  Mr.  Burke  has  forgotten : 
1st,  he  has  not  shown  where  the  wisdom  originally  came  from; 
and,  2nd,  he  has  not  shown  by  what  authority  it  first  began  to 
act.  In  the  manner  he  introduced  the  matters,  it  is  either 

Government  stealing  wisdom,  or  wisdom  stealing  government, 
t  is  without  an  origin,  and  its  powers  without  authority.     In 
short,  it  is  usurpation. 

Whether  it  be  from  a  sense  of  shame,  or  from  a  conscious- 
ness of  some  radical  defect  in  government  necessary  to  be  kept 
out  of  sight,  or  from  both,  or  from  some  other  cause,  I  under- 


take  not  to  determine;  but  so  it  is,  that  a  monarchical  reasoner 
never  traces  government  to  its  soui'ce.  It  is  one  of  the  shibbo- 
leths by  which  he  may  be  known.  A  thousand  years  hence, 
those  who  shall  live  in  America,  or  in  France,  will  look  back 
with  contemplative  pride  on  the  origin  of  their  governments, 
and  say,  this  was  the  work  of  our  glorious  ancestors  t  But  what 
can  a  monarchical  talker  say?  What  has  he  to  exult  in? 
Alas !  he  has  nothing.  A  certain  something  forbids  him  to 
look  back  to  a  beginning,  lest  some  robber,  or  some  Robin 
Hood,  should  rise  from  the  long  obscurity  of  time,  and  say,  1 
am  the  origin.  Hard  as  Mr.  Burke  labored  under  the  regency 
bill  and  hereditary  succession  two  years  ago,  and  much  as  he 
dived  for  precedents,  he  still  had  not  boldness  enough  to  bring 
up  William  of  Normandy  and  say,  there  is  the  head  of  the  list, 
there  is  the  fountain  of  honor,  the  sou  of  a  prostitute,  and  the 
plunderer  of  the  English  nation. 

The  opinions  of  men,  with  respect  to  government,  are  chang- 
ing fast  in  all  countries.  The  revolutions  of  America  and 
France  have  thrown  a  beam  of  light  over  the  world  which 
reaches  into  man.  The  enormous  expense  of  governments  have 
provoked  people  to  think  by  making  them  feel  ;  and  when  once 
the  vail  begins  to  rend,  it  admits  rot  of  repair.  Ignorance  is 
of  a  peculiar  nature ;  once  dispelled,  it  is  impossible  to  re-es- 
tablish it.  It  is  not  originally  a  thing  of  itself,  but  is  only  the 
absence  of  knowledge  ;  and  though  man  may  be  kept  ignorant, 
he  cannot  be  made  ignorant.  The  mind,  in  discovering  truths, 
acts  in  the  same  manner  as  it  acts  through  the  eye  in  discover- 
ing an  object ;  when  once  any  object  has  been  seen,  it  is  impos- 
sible to  put  the  mind  back  to  the  same  condition  it  was  in  before 
it  saw  it.  Those  who  talk  of  a  counter-revolution  in  France, 
show  how  little  they  understand  of  man.  There  does  not  exist 
in  the  compass  of  language,  an  arrangement  of  words  to  express 
so  much  as  the  means  of  effecting  a  counter-revolution.  The 
means  must  be  an  obliteration  of  knowledge  ;  and  it  has  never 
yet  been  discovered  how  to  make  a  man  unk'now  his  knowledge, 
or  unthink  his  thoughts. 

Mr.  Burke  is  laboring  in  vain  to  stop  the  progress  of  know- 
ledge ;  and  it  comes  with  the  worse  grace  from  him,  as  there  is 
a  certain  transaction  known  in  the  city,  which  renders  him  sus- 
pected of  being  a  pensioner  in  a  fictitious  name.  This  may  ac- 
count for  some  strange  doctrine  he  has  advanced  in  his  book, 


RIGHTS   OF  MAN.  300 

which,  though  he  points  it  at  the  Revolution  society,  is  effectu- 
ally directed  against  the  whole  nation. 

"The  king  of  England,"  says  he,  "holds  Ms  crown  (for  it 
does  not  belong  to  the  nation,  according  to  Mr.  Burke)  in  con- 
tempt of  the  choice  of  the  Revolution  society,  who  have  not  a 
single  vote  for  a  king  among  them  either  individually  or  col- 
lectively ;  and  his  majesty's  heirs,  each  in  his  time  and  order 
will  come  to  the  crown  with  the  same  contempt  of  their  choice. 
•••'th  ^"hich  his  majesty  has  succeeded  to  that  which  he  no" 
wears." 

^LS  to  who  is  king  of  England  or  elsewhere,  or  whether  there 
is  any  at  all,  or  whether  the  people  choose  a  Cherokee  chief,  or 
a  Hessian  hussar  for  a  king,  is  not  a  matter  that  I  trouble  my- 
self about,  be  that  to  themselves  ;  but  with  respect  to  the  doc- 
trine, so  far  as  it  relates  to  the  rights  of  men  and  nations,  it  is 
as  abominable  as  anything  ever  uttered  in  the  most  enslaved 
country  under  heaven.  Whether  it  sounds  worse  to  my  ear, 
by  not  being  accustomed  to  hear  such  despotism,  than  it  does 
to  the  ear  of  another  person,  1  am  not  so  well  a  judge  of ;  but 
of  its  abominable  principle,  I  am  at  no  loss  to  judge. 

It  is  not  the  Revolution  society  that  Mr.  Burke  means  ;  it 
is  the  nation,  as  well  in  its  original,  as  in  its  representative 
character ;  and  he  has  taken  care  to  make  himself  understood, 
by  saying,  that  they  have  not  a  vote  either  collectively  or  indiv- 
idually. The  Revolution  society  is  composed  of  citizens  of  all 
denominations,  and  of  members  of  both  houses  of  parliament, 
and  consequently,  if  there  is  not  a  right  to  vote  in  any  of  the 
characters,  there  can  be  no  right  to  any,  either  in  the  nation  or 
iu  its  parliament.  This  ought  to  be  a  caution  to  every  country, 
how  it  imports  foreign  families  to  be  kings.  It  is  somewhat 
3urious  to  observe,  that  although  the  people  of  England  have 
been  in  the  habit  of  talking  about  the  kings,  it  is  always  a 
foreign  house  of  kings;  hating  foreigners,  yet  governed  by 
them.  It  is  now  the  house  of  Brunswick,  one  of  the  petty 
tribes  of  Germany. 

It  has  hitherto  been  the  practice  of  the  English  parliaments, 
to  regulate  what  was  called  the  succession  (taking  it  for  grant- 
ed, that  the  nation  then  continued  to  accord  to  the  form  of  an- 
nexing a  monarchical  branch  to  its  government;  for  without 
this,  the  parliament  could  not  have  had  authority  to  have  sent 
either  to  Holland  or  to  Hanover,  or  to  impose  a  king  upon  a 
nation  against  its  will).  And  this  must  be  the  utmost  limit  to 


310  RIGHTS   OF  MAN. 

which  parliament  can  go  upon  the  case ;  but  the  right  of  the 
nation  goes  to  the  whole  case,  because  it  is  the  right  of  chang- 
ing the  whole  form  of  government.  The  right  of  a  parliament 
is  only  a  right  in  trust,  a  right  by  delegation,  and  that  but  from 
a  very  small  part  of  the  nation ;  and  one  of  its  houses  has  not 
even  this.  But  the  right  of  the  nation  is  an  original  right,  as 
universal  as  taxation.  The  nation  is  the  paymaster  of  every- 
thing, and  everything  must  conform  to  its  general  will. 

I  remember  taking  notice  of  a  speech  in  what  is  called  the 
English  house  of  peers,  by  the  then  Earl  of  Shelburne,  and  J 
think  it  was  at  the  time  he  was  minister,  which  is  applicable  to 
this  case.  I  do  not  directly  charge  my  memory  with  every 
particular ;  but  the  words  and  the  purport  as  nearly  as  I  re- 
member, were  these  :  that  the  form  of  government  was  a  matter 
wJiolly  at  the  will  of  a  nation  at  all  times :  that  if  it  chose  a 
monarchical  form,  it  had  a  right  to  have  it  so,  and  if  it  after- 
wards  chose  to  be  a  republic,  it  had  a  right  to  be  a  republic,  and 
to  say  to  a  king,  we  have  no  longer  any  occasion  for  you. 

When  Mr.  Burke  says  that  '  his  majesty's  heirs  and  succes- 
sors, each  in  their  time  and  order,  will  come  to  the  crown  with 
the  same  contempt  of  their  choice  with  which  his  majesty  has 
succeeded  to  that  he  wears,"  it  is  saying  too  much  even  to  the 
humblest  individual  in  the  country  ;  part  of  whose  daily  labor 
goes  towards  making  up  the  million  sterling  a-year  which  the 
country  gives  a  person  it  styles  a  king.  Government  with  in- 
solence, is  despotism;  but  when  contempt  is  added,  it  becomes 
worse  ;  and  to  pay  for  contempt  is  the  excess  of  slavery.  This 
species  of  government  comes  from  Germany  ;  and  reminds  me 
of  what  one  of  the  Brunswick  soldiers  told  me,  who  was  taken 
prisoner  by  the  Americans  in  the  late  war;  "Ah!"  said  he. 
"America  is  a  fine  free  country,  it  is  worth  people's  fighting  for  : 
I  know  the  difference  by  knowing  my  own  ;  in  my  country,  if 
the  prince  say,  eat  straw,  we  eat  straw." — God  help  that  coun 
try,  thought  I,  be  it  England  or  elsewhere,  whose  liberties  are 
to  be  protected  by  German  principles  of  government  and  princes 
of  Brunswick. 

As  Mr.  Burke  sometimes  speaks  of  England,  sometimes  of 
France,  and  sometimes  of  the  world,  and  of  government  in 
general,  it  is  difficult  to  answer  his  book  without  apparently 
meeting  him  on  the  same  ground.  Although  principles  of 
government  are  general  subjects,  it  is  next  to  impossible,  in 
many  ca.ses,  to  separate  them  from  the  idea  of  place  and  cir- 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN,  311 

cumstance ;  and  the  more  so  when  circumstances  are  put  for 
arguments,  which  is  frequently  the  case  with  Mr.  Burke. 

In  the  former  part  of  his  book,  addressing  himself  to  the 
people  of  France,  he  says,  "  No  experience  has  taught  us 
(meaning.the  English),  that  in  any  other  course  or  method  than 
that  of  an  hereditary  crown,  can  our  liberties  be  regularly  per- 
petuated and  preserved  sacred  as  our  hereditary  right."  I  ask 
Mr.  Burke  who  is  to  take  them  away  ?  M.  de  la  Fayette,  in 
speaking  of  France,  says,  "  For  a  nation  to  be  free,  it  is  suffici- 
ent that  she  wills  it."  But  Mr.  Burke  represents  England  as 
wanting  capacity  to  take  care  of  itself ;  and  that  its  liberties 
must  be  taken  care  of  by  a  king,  holding  it  in  "  contempt."  If 
England  is  sunk  to  this,  it  is  preparing  itself  to  eat  straw,  as 
in  Hanover  or  in  Brunswick.  But  besides  the  folly  of  the  de- 
claration, it  happens  that  the  facts  are  all  against  Mr.  Burke. 
It  was  by  the  government  being  hereditary,  that  the  liberties 
of  the  people  were  endangered.  Charles  I.  and  James  II.  are 
instances  of  this  truth,  yet  neither  of  them  went  so  far  as  to  hold 
the  nation  in  contempt. 

As  it  is  sometimes  of  advantage  to  the  people  of  one  country 
to  hear  what  those-  of  other  countries  have  to  say  respecting  it, 
it  is  possible  that  the  people  of  France  may  learn  something 
from  Mr.  Burke's  book,  and  that  the  people  of  England  may 
also  learn  something  from  the  answers  it  will  occasion.  When 
nations  fall  out  about  freedom,  a  wide  field  of  debate  is  opened. 
The  argument  commences  with  the  rights  of  war,  without  its 
evils ;  and  as  knowledge  is  the  object  contended  for,  the  party 
that  sustains  the  defeat  obtains  the  prize. 

Mr.  Burke  talks  about  what  he  calls  an  hereditary  crown,  as 
if  it  were  some  production  of  nature;  or  as  if,  like  time,  it  had 
power  to  operate  not  only  independently,  but  in  spite  of  man ; 
or  as  if  it  were  a  thing  or  a  subject  universally  consented  to. 
Alas !  it  has  none  of  those  properties,  but  is  the  reverse  of  them 
all.  It  is  a  thing  of  imagination,  the  propriety  of  which  is 
more  than  doubted,  and  the  legality  of  which  in  a  few  years 
will  be  denied. 

But,  to  arrange  this  matter  in  a  clearer  view  than  what 
general  expressions  can  convey,  it  will  be  necessary  to  state  the 
distinct  heads  under  which  (what  is  called)  an  hereditary  crown, 
or,  more  properly  speaking,  an  hereditary  succession  to  the 
government  of  a  nation,  can  be  considered,  which  are, 

1st.  The  right  of  a  particular  family  to  establish  itself. 


RIGHTS   OF    MAN. 

2nd.  The  right  of  a  nation  to  establish  a  particular  family. 

With  respect  to  the  first  of  these  heads,  that  of  a  family 
establishing  itself  with  hereditary  powers  on  its  own  authority, 
atid  independent  of  the  consent  of  a  nation,  all  men  will  concur 
in  calling  it  despotism;  and  it  would  be  trespassing  on  their 
understanding  to  attempt  to  prove  it. 

But  the  second  head,  that  of  a  nation  establishing  a  parti- 
cular family  with  hereditary  powers,  does  not  present  itself  as 
despotism  on  the  first  reflection;  but  if  men  will  permit  a 
second  reflection  to  take  place,  and  carry  that  reflection  forward 
but  one  remove  out  of  their  own  persons  to  that  of  their  off- 
spring, they  will  then  see  that  hereditary  succession  becomes  in 
its  consequences  the  same  despotism  to  others,  which  they  repro- 
bated for  themselves.  It  operates  to  preclude  the  consent  of 
the  succeeding  generation,  and  the  preclusion  of  consent  is  des- 
potism. When  the  person  who  at  any  time  shall  be  in  posses- 
sion of  a  government,  or  those  who  stand  in  succession  to  him, 
shall  say  to  a  nation,  I  hold  this  power  in  "  contempt "  of  you, 
it  signifies  not  on  what  authority  he  pretends  to  say  it.  It  is 
no  relief,  but  an  aggravation  to  a  person  in  slavery,  to  reflect 
that  he  was  sold  by  his  parent;  and  as  that  which  heightens  the 
criminality  of  an  act  cannot  be  produced  to  prove  the  legality 
of  it,  hereditary  succession  cannot  be  established  as  a  legal 
thing. 

In  order  to  arrive  at  a  more  perfect  decision  on  this  head,  it 
will  be  proper  to  consider  the  generation  which  undertakes  to 
establish  a  family  with  hereditary  powers,  separately  from  the 
generations  which  are  to  follow;  and  also  to  consider  the  char- 
acter in  which  the  first  generation  acts  with  respect  to  succeeding 
generations. 

The  generation  which  selects  a  person,  and  puts  him  at  the 
head  of  its  government,  either  with  the  title  of  king,  or  any 
other  distinction,  acts  its  own  choice,  be  it  wise  or  foolish,  as  a 
free  agent  for  itself.  The  perso-  ^:  set  z^  '«  "ot  hereditary, 
but  selected  and  appointed  ,  aud  the  generation  wk^  sets  him 
up,  does  not  live  under  an  hereditary  government,  but  ur"^ 
a  government  of  its  own  choice  and  establishment.  Were  ti.. 
generation  who  sets  him  up,  and  the  person  so  set  up,  to  IX 
forever,  it  never  could  become  hereditary  succession :  hereditary 
succession  can  only  follow  on  death  of  the  first  parties. 

As  therefore  hereditary  succession  is  out  of  the  question  -with 
respect  to  the  first  generation,  we  have  now  to  consider  the 


RIGHTS  OF  MAN,  813 

character  in  which  that  generation  acts  with  respect  to  the  com- 
mencing generation,  and  to  all  succeeding  ones. 

It  assumes  a  character,  to  which  it  has  neither  right  nor  title. 
It  changes  itself  from  a  legislator  to  a  testator,  and  affects  to 
make  its  will,  which  is  to  have  operation  after  the  demise  of  the 
makers,  to  bequeath  the  government;  and  it  not  only  attempts 
to  bequeath,  but  to  establish  on  the  succeeding  generation  a 
new  and  different  form  of  government  under  which  itself  lived. 
itself,  as  is  before  observed,  lived  not  under  an  hereditary 
government,  but  under  a  government  of  its  own  choice  and 
•stablishment;  and  it  now  attempts  by  virtue  of  a  will  and 
estament  (and  which  it  has  not  authority  to  make),  to  take 
rom  the  commencing  generation,  and  all  future  ones,  the  rights 
aid  free  agency  by  which  itself  acted. 

But  exclusive  of  the  right  which  any  generation  has  to  act 
Collectively  as  a  testator,  the  objects  to  which  it  applies  itself  in 
this  case,  are  not  within  the  compass  of  any  law,  or  of  any  will 
or  testament. 

The  rights  of  men  in  society,  are  neither  devisable,  nor  trans- 
ferable, nor  annihilable,  but  are  descendable  only ;  and  it  is  not 
MI  the  power  of  any  generation  to  intercept  finally,  and  cut  off 
the  descent.  If  the  present  generation  or  any  other,  are  dis- 
posed to  be  slaves,  it  does  not  lessen  the  right  of  the  succeeding 
generation  to  be  free:  wrongs  cannot  have  a  legal  descent. 
When  Mr.  Burke  attempts  to  maintain  that  the  English  nation 
did,  at  the  revolution  of  1688,  most  solemnly  renounce  and  abdi- 
cate their  rights  for  themselves,  and  Jor  all  their  posterity  for 
ever,  he  speaks  a  language  that  merits  not  reply,  and  which  can 
only  excite  contempt  for  his  prostitute  principles,  or  pity  for 
his  ignorance. 

In  whatever  light  hereditary  succession,  as  growing  out  of 
the  will  and  testament  of  some  former  generation,  presents 
itself,  it  is  an  absurdity.  A  cannot  make  a  will  to  take  from 
B  his  property,  and  give  i  to  C;  yet  this  is  the  manner  in 
which  (what  is  called^  hereditary  succession  by  law,  operates. 
A  certain  former  generation  made  a  will  to  take  away  the  rights 
of  the  commencing  generation  and  all  the  future  ones,  and  con- 
vey those  rights  to  a  third  pei'son,  who  afterwards  comes  for- 
ward, and  tells  them,  in  Mr.  Burke's  language,  that  they  have 
no  rights,  that  their  rights  are  already  bequeathed  to  him,  and 
that  he  will  gpvern  in  contempt  of  them.  From  such  principles, 
cV***  such  ignorance,  good  Lord  deliver  the  world  ! 


314  RIGHTS   OF  MAN. 

But,  after  all,  what  is  this  metaphor,  called  a  crown,  01 
rather,  what  is  monarchy  1  Is  it  a  thing,  or  is  it  a  name,  or  is 
it  a  fraud  1  Is  it  a  "  contrivance  of  human  wisdom,"  or  human 
craft,  to  obtain  money  from  a  nation  under  "specious  pretences  ? 
Is  it  a  thing  necessary  to  a  nation  ?  If  it  is,  in  what  does  that 
necessity  consist,  what  service  does  it  perform,  what  is  its  busi- 
ness, and  what  are  its  merits  1  Doth  the  virtue  consist  in  the 
metaphor,  or  in  the  man?  Doth  the  goldsmith  that  makes  the 
crown,  make  the  virtue  also  ?  Doth  it  operate  like  Fortunatus's 
wishing  cap,  or  Harlequin's  wooden  sword  ?  Doth  it  make  a 
man  a  conjurer?  In  fine,  what  is  it1?  It  appears  to  be  a  some- 
thing going  much  out  of  fashion,  falling  into  ridicule,  and 
rejected  in  some  countries  both  as  unnecessary  and  expensive 
In  America  it  is  considered  as  an  absurdity,  and  in  France  it 
has  so  far  declined,  that  the  goodness  of  the  man,  and  the  res 
pect  for  his  personal  character,  are  the  only  things  that  preserve 
'  the  appearance  of  its  existence. 

If  government  be  what  Mr  Burke  describes  it,  "  a  contriv 
ance  of  human  wisdom,"  I  might  ask  him,  if  wisdom  was  at 
such  a  low  ebb  in  England,  that  it  was  become  necessary  to  im- 
port it  from  Holland  and  from  Hanover  ?  But  I  will  do  th% 
country  the  justice  to  say,  that  that  was  not  the  case ;  and  even 
if  it  was  it  mistook  the  cargo.  The  wisdom  of  every  country, 
when  properly  exerted,  is  sufficient  for  all  its  purposes:  and 
there  could  exist  no  more  real  occasion  in  England  to  have 
sent  for  a  Dutch  stadtholder,  or  a  German  elector,  than  there 
was  in  America  to  have  done  a  similar  thing.  If  a  country 
does  not  understand  its  own  affairs,  how  is  a  foreigner  to  under- 
stand them,  who  knows  neither  its  laws,  its  manners,  nor  its 
language  ?  If  there  existed  a  man  so  transcendently  wise  above 
all  others,  that  his  wisdom  was  necessary  to  instruct  a  nation, 
some  reason  might  be  offered  for  monarchy;  but  when  we  cast 
our  eyes  about  a  country,  and  observe  how  every  part  under- 
stands its  own  affairs;  and  when  we  look  around  the  world, 
and  see  that  of  all  men  in  it,  the  race  of  kings  are  the  most  in- 
significant in  capacity,  our  reason  cannot  fail  to  ask  us — What 
are  those  men  kept  for? 

If  there  is  anything  in  monarchy  which  we  people  of  America 
do  not  understand,  I  wish  Mr.  Burke  would  be  so  kind  as  to 
inform  us.  I  see  in  America,  a  government  extending  over  a 
country  ten  times  as  large  as  England,  and  conducted  with 
regularity  for  a  fortieth  part  of  the  expense  which  government 


RIGHTS  OF  MAN.  315 

costs  in  England.  If  I  ask  a  man  in  America,  if  he  wants  a 
king,  he  retorts,  and  asks  me  if  I  take  him  for  an  idiot.  How 
is  it  that  this  difference  happens:  are  we  more  or  less  wise  than 
others  ?  I  see  in  America  the  generality  of  the  people  living  in 
a  style  of  plenty  unknown  in  monarchical  countries;  and  I  see 
that  the  principle  of  its  government,  which  is  that  of  the  equal 
rights  of  man,  is  making  a  rapid  progress  in  the  world. 

If  monarchy  is  a  useless  thing,  why  is  it  kept  up  anywhere  1 
And  if  a  necessary  thing,  how  can  it  be  dispensed  with  ?  That 
civil  government  is  necessary,  all  civilized  nations  will  agree  in  ; 
but  civil  government  is  republican  government.  All  that  part 
of  the  government  cf  England  which  begins  with  the  office  of 
constable,  and  proceeds  through  the  department  of  magistrate, 
quarter-session,  and  general  assize,  including  the  trial  by  jury, 
is  republican  government.  Nothing  of  monarchy  appears  in 
any  part  of  it,  except  the  name  which  William  the  Conoueror 
imposed  upon  the  English,  that  of  obliging  them  to  call  him 
•'  their  sovereign  lord  the  king." 

It  is  easy  to  conceive,  that  a  band  of  interested  men,  such  as 
placemen,  pensioners,  lords  of  the  bed-chamber,  lords  of  the 
kitchen,  lords  of  the  necessary -house,  and  the  Lord  knows  what 
besides,  can  find  a»  many  reasons  for  monarchy  as  their  salaries, 
paid  at  the  <jxppnHi  of  the  country,  amount  to  ;  but  if  I  ask  the 
fYvrmer.  th«  manufacturer,  the  merchant,  the  tradesman,  and 
down  through  all  the  occupations  of  life  to  the  common  laborer, 
what  service  monarchy  is  to  him,  he  can  give  me  no  answer.  If 
I  ask  him.  what  monarchy  is,  he  believes  it  is  something  like  a 
sinecure. 

Notwithstanding  the  taxes  of  England  amount  to  almost 
seventeen  millions  a-year,  said  to  be  for  the  expenses  of  govern- 
ment, it  is  still  evident  that  the  sense  of  the  nation  is  left  to 
govern  itself,  and  does  govern  itself  by  magistrates  and  juries, 
almost  at  its  own  charge,  on  republican  principles,  exclusive  of 
the  expense  of  taxes.  The  salaries  of  the  judges  are  almost  the 
only  chargo  that  is  paM  out  of  the  revenue.  Considering  that 
all  the  internal  government  is  executed  by  the  people,  the  taxes 
of  England  ought  to  be  the  lightest  of  any  nation  in  Europe; 
instead  of  which,  they  are  the  contrary.  As  this  cannot  be  ac- 
counted for  on  the  score  of  civil  government,  the  subject 
necessarily  extends  itself  to  the  monarchical  part. 

When  the  people  of  England  sent  for  George  I.  (and  it  would 
puzzle  a  wiser  man  than  Mr.  Burke  to  discover  for  what  he 


316  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

could  be  wanted,  or  what  service  he  could  render)  they  ought 
at  least  to  have  conditioned  for  the  abandonment  of  Hanover. 
Besides  the  endless  German  intrigues  that  must. follow  from  a 
German  elector's  being  king  of  England,  there  is  a  natm'al  im- 
possibility of  uniting  in  the  same  person  the  principles  of  freedom 
and  the  principles  of  despotism,  or,  as  it  is  called  in  England, 
arbitrary  power.  A  German  elector  is,  in  his  electorate,  a 
despot:  how  then  should  it  be  expected  that  he  should  be  at- 
tached to  principles  of  liberty  in  one  country,  while  his  interest 
in  another  was  to  be  supported  by  despotism  1  The  union  can- 
not exist;  and  it  might  easily  have  been  foreseen,  that  German 
electors  would  make  German  kings,  or  in  Mr.  Burke's  words, 
would  assume  government  with  "contempt."  The  English  have 
been 'in  the  habit  of  considering  a  king  of  England  only  in 
the  character  in  which  he  appears  to  them;  whereas  the  same 
person,  while  the  connexion  lasts,  has  a  home-seat  in  another 
country,  the  interest-  of  which  is  at  variance  with  their  own, 
and  the  principles  of  the  government  in  opposition  to  each 
other.  To  such  a  person  England  will  appear  as  a  town  resid- 
ence, and  the  electorate  as  the  estate.  The  English  may  wish, 
as  I  believe  they  do,  success  to  the  principles  of  liberty  in 
France,  or  in  Germany;  but  a  German  elector  trembles  for  the 
fate  of  despotism  in  his  electorate;  and  the  duchy  of  Mecklen- 
burg, where  the  present  queen's  family  governs,  is  under  the 
same  wretched  state  of  arbitrary  power,  and  the  people  in 
slavish  vassalage. 

There  never  was  a  time  when  it  became  the  English  to  watch 
continental  intrigues  more  circumspectly  than  at  the  present 
moment,  and  to  distinguish  the  politics  of  the  electorate  from 
politics  of  the  nation.  The  revolution  of  .France  has  entirely 
changed  the  ground  with  respect  to  England  and  France,  as 
nations:  but  the  German  despots,  with  Prussia  u  their  head, 
are  combining  against  liberty,  and  the  fondness  of  Mr  'Pitt  for 
office,  and  the  interest  which  all  his  family  connexions  have  ob- 
lained,  do  not  give  sufficient  security  against  this  inh  igue. 

As  everything  which  passes  in  the  world  becuim.d  matter  for 
history,  I  will  now  quit  this  subject,  and  take  a  concise  review 
of  the  state  of  parties  and  politics  in  England,  as  Mr.  Burke 
has  done  in  France. 

Whether  the  present  reign  commenced  with  contempt,  I  leave 
to  Mr.  Burke :  certain,  however  it  is,  that  it  had  strongly  that 
appearance.  The  animosity  of  the  English  nation,  it  is  very 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  317 

well  remembered,  ran  high:  and,  had  the  true  principles  of 
liberty  been  as  well  understood  then  as  they  now  promise  to  be, 
it  is  probable  the  nation  would  not  have  patiently  submitted  to 
so  much.  George  I.  and  II.  were  sensible  of  a  rival  in  the  remains 
of  the  Stuarts :  and  as  they  could  not  but  consider  themselves 
as  standing  on  their  good  behavior,  they  had  prudence  to  keep 
their  German  principles  of  government  to  themselves;  but  as 
the  Stuart  family  wore  away,  the  prudence  became  less  neces- 
sary. 

The  contest  between  rights,  and  what  were  called  prerogatives, 
continued  to  heat  the  nation  till  some  time  after  the  conclusion 
of  the  American  revolution,  when  all  at  once  it  fell  a  calm,  exe- 
cration exchanged  itself  for  applause,  and  court  popularity 
sprung  up  like  a  mushroom  in  the  night. 

To  account  for  this  sudden  transition,  it  is  proper  to  observe, 
that  there  are  two  distinct  species  of  popularity ;  the  one  ex- 
cited by  merit,  the  other  by  resentment.  As  the  nation  had 
formed  itself  into  two  parties,  and  each  was  extolling  the 
merits  of  its  parliamentary  champions,  for  and  against  the  pre- 
rogative, nothing  could  operate  to  give  a  more  general  shock  than 
an  immediate  coalition  of  the  champions  themselves.  The  parti- 
sans of  each  being  thus  suddenly  left  in  the  lurch,  and  mutually 
heated  with  disgust  at  the  measure,  felt  no  other  relief  than  in 
uniting  in  a  common  execration  against  both.  A  higher  stim- 
ulus of  resentment  being  thus  excited  than  what  the  contest 
on  prerogatives  had  occasioned,  the  nation  quitted  all  former 
objects  of  rights  and  wrongs,  and  sought  only  that  of  gratifica- 
tion,— The  indignation  at  the  coalition  so  effectually  superseded 
the  indignation  against  the  court,  as  to  extinguish  it:  and 
without  any  change  of  principles  on  the  part  of  the  court,  the 
same  people  who  had  reprobated  its  despotism,  united  with  it, 
to  revenge  themselves  on  the  coalition  parliament.  The  case 
was  not,  which  they  liked  best — but,  which  they  hated  most; 
and  the  least  hated  passed  for  love.  The  dissolution  of  the 
coalition  parliament,  as  it  afforded  the  means  of  gratifying  the 
resentment  of  the  nation,  could  not  fail  to  be  popular;  and 
from  hence  arose  the  popularity  of  the  court. 

Transitions  of  this  kind  exhibit  to  us  a  nation  under  the 
government  of  temper,  instead  of  a  fixed  and  steady  principle; 
and  having  once  committed  itself,  however  rashly,  it  feels  itself 
urged  along  to  justify  by  continuance  its  first  proceeding. 
Measures,  which  at  other  times  it  would  censure,  it  now  ap 


RIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

proves,  and  acte  persuasion  upon  itself  to  suffocate  ite  judgment. 

On  the  return  of  a  new  parliament,  the  new  minister,  Mr. 
Pitt,  found  himself  in  a  secure  majority;  and  the  nation  gave 
him  credit,  not  out  of  regard  to  himself,  but  because  it  had 
resolved  to  do  it  out  of  resentment  to  another.  He  introduced 
himself  to  public  notice  by  a  proposed  reform  of  parliament, 
which  in  its  operation  would  have  amounted  to  a  public  justi- 
fication of  corruption.  The  nation  was  to  be  at  the  expense  of 
buying  up  the  rotten  boroughs,  whereas  it  ought  to  punish  the 
persons  who  deal  in  the  traffic. 

Passing  over  the  two  bubbles,  of  the  Dutch  business,  and 
the  million  a-year  to  sink  the  national  debt,  the  matter  which 
is  most  prominent,  is  the  affair  of  the  regency.  Never,  in  the 
course  of  my  observation,  was  delusion  more  successfully  acted, 
nor  a  nation  more  completely  deceived.  But,  to  make  this  ap- 
pear, it  will  be  necessary  to  go  over  the  circumstances. 

Mr.  Fox  had  stated  in  the  house  of  commons,  that  the  prince 
of  Wales,  as  heir  in  succession,  had  a  right  in  himself  to  assume 
the  government.  This  was  opposed  by  Mr.  Pitt;  and,  so  far 
as  the  opposition  was  confined  to  the  doctrine,  it  was  just. 
But  the  principles  which  Mr.  Pitt  maintained  on  the  contrary 
side,  were  as  bad,  or  worse,  in  their  extent  than  those  of  Mr. 
Fox;  because  they  went  to  establish  an  aristocracy  over  the 
nation,  and  over  the  small  representation  it  has  in  the  house 
of  commons. 

Whether  the  English  form  of  government  be  good  or  bad,  is 
not  in  this  case  the  question;  but,  taking  it  as  it  stands,  without 
regard  to  its  merits  or  demerits,  Mr.  Pitt  was  further  from  the 
point  than  Mr.  Fox. 

It  is  supposed  to  consist  of  three  parts ;  while,  therefore,  the 
nation  is  disposed  to  continue  this  form,  the  parts  have  a  na- 
tional standing,  independent  of  each  other,  and  are  not  the 
creatures  of  each  other.  Had  Mr.  Fox  passed  through  parlia- 
ment, and  said,  that  the  person  alluded  to  claimed  on  the 
ground  of  the  nation,  Mr.  Pitt  must  then  have  contended  for 
(what  he  called)  the  right  of  the  parliament,  against  the  right 
of  the  nation. 

By  the  appearance  which  the  contest  made,  Mr.  Fox  took 
the  hereditary  ground,  and  Mr.  Pitt  the  parliamentary  ground ; 
but  the  fact  is,  they  both  took  hereditary  ground,  and  Mr. 
Pitt  took  the  worst  of  the  two. 

What  is  called  the  parliament,  is  made  up  of  two  houses; 


BIGHTS  OF  MAN.  819 

one  of  which  is  more  hereditary,  and  more  beyond  the  control 
of  the  nation,  than  what  the  crown  (as  it  is  called)  is  supposed 
to  be.  It  is  an  hereditary  aristocracy,  assuming  and  asserting 
indefeasible,  irrevocable  rights  and  author  ty,  wholly  indepen- 
dent of  the  nation.  Where  then  was  the  merited  popularity 
of  exalting  this  hereditary  power  over  another  hereditary  power 
less  independent  of  the  nation  than  what  itself  assumed  to  be, 
and  of  absorbing  the  rights  of  the  nation  into  a  house  over 
which  it  has  neither  election  nor  control  t 

The  general  impulse  of  the  nation  was  right;  but  it  acted 
without  reflection.  It  approved  the  opposition  made  to  the 
right  set  up  by  Mr.  Fox,  without  perceiving  that  Mr.  Pitt  was 
supporting  another  indefeasible  right,  more  remote  from  the 
nation  in  opposition  to  it. 

With  respect  to  the  house  of  commons,  it  is  elected  but  by  a 
small  part  of  the  nation;  but  were  the  election  as  universal 
as  taxation,  which  it  ought  to  be,  it  would  still  be  only  the 
organ  of  the  nation,  and  cannot  possess  inherent  rights.  When 
the  national  assembly  of  France  resolves  a  matter,  the  resolve 
is  made  in  right  of  the  nation;  but,  Mr.  Pitt,  on  all  national 
questions,  so  far  as  they  refer  to  the  house  of  commons,  absorbs 
the  right  of  the  nation  into  the  organ,  and  makes  the  organ 
into  a  nation,  and  the  nation  itself  into  a  cipher. 

In  a  few  words,  the  question  on  the  regency  was  a  question 
on  a  million  a-year,  which  is  appropriated  to  the  executive  de- 
partment: and  Mr.  Pitt  could  not  possess  himself  of  any  man- 
agement of  this  sum,  without  setting  up  the  supremacy  of 
parliament;  and  when  this  was  accomplished,  it  was  indifferent 
who  should  be  regent,  as  he  must  be  regent  at  his  own  cost. 
Among  the  curiosities  which  this  contentious  debate  afforded, 
was  that  of  making  the  great  seal  into  a  king;  the  affixing  of 
which  to  an  act,  was  to  be  royal  authority.  If,  therefore,  royal 
authority  is  a  great  seal,  it  consequently  is  in  itself  nothing; 
and  a  good  constitution  would  be  of  infinitely  more  value  to  the 
nation,  than  what  the  three  nominal  powers,  as  they  now  stand 
are  worth. 

The  continual  use  of  the  word  constitution  in  the  English 
parliament,  shows  that  there  is  none;  and  that  the  whole  is 
merely  a  form  of  government  without  «,  Constitution,  and  con- 
stituting itself  with  what  powers  it  pleases.  If  there  was  a 
constitution,  it  certainly  would  be  referred  to;  and  the  debate 
on  any  constitutional  point  would  terminate  by  producing  the 


RIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

constitution.  One  member  says,  this  is  constitutional;  an- 
other says,  that  is  constitutional — To-day  it  is  one  thing;  to- 
morrow it  is  something  else — while  the  maintaining  the  debate 
proves  there  is  none.  Constitution  is  now  the  cant  word  of 
parliament,  turning  itself  to  the  ear  of  the  nation.  Formerly 
it  was  the  universal  supremacy  and  the  omnipotence  of  parlia- 
ment. But  since  the  progress  of  liberty  in  France,  those 
phrases  have  a  despotic  harshness  in  their  note;  and  the  Eng- 
lish parliament  has  caught  the  fashion  from  the  national 
assembly,  but  without  the  substance,  of  speaking  of  a  consti- 
tution. 

As  the  present  generation  of  people  in  England  did  not 
make  the  government,  they  are  not  accountable  for  any  of  its 
defects;  but  that  sooner  or  later  it  must  come  into  their  hands 
to  undergo  a  constitutional  reformation,  is  as  certain  as  that 
the  same  thing  has  happened  in  France.  If  France,  with  a 
revenue  of  nearly  twenty-four  millions  sterling,  with  an  extent 
of  rich  and  fertile  country  above  four  times  larger  than  Eng- 
land, with  a  population  of  twenty-four  millions  of  inhabitants 
to  support  taxation,  with  upwards  of  ninety  millions  sterling 
of  gold  and  silver  circulating  in  the  nation,  and  with  a  debt 
less  that  the  present  debt  of  England — still  found  it  necessary, 
from  whatever  cause,  to  come  to  a  settlement  of  its  affairs,  it 
solves  the  problem  of  funding  for  both  countries. 

It  is  out  of  the  question  to  say  how  long  what  is  called  the 
English  constitution  has  lasted,  and  to  argue  from  thence  how 
long  it  is  to  last;  the  question  is  how  long  can  the  funding 
system  last  ?  It  is  a  thing  but  of  modern  invention,  and  has 
not  yet  continued  beyond  the  life  of  a  man ;  yet,  in  that  short 
rfpace,  it  has  so  far  accumulated  that,  together  with  the  current 
expenses,  it  requires  an  amount  of  taxes  at  least  equal  to  the 
whole  landed  rental  of  the  nation  in  acres,  to  defray  the  annual 
expenditures.  That  a  government  could  not  always  have  gone 
on  by  the  same  system  which  has  been  followed  for  the  last 
seventy  years,  must  be  evident  to  every  man;  and  for  the  same 
reason  it  cannot  always  go  on. 

The  funding  system  is  not  money;  neither  is  it,  properly 
speaking,  credit.  It,  in  effect,  creates  upon  paper  the  sum 
which  it  appears  to  borrow,  and  lays  on  a  tax  to  keep  the 
imaginary  capital  alive  by  the  payment  of  interest,  and  sends 
the  annuity  to  market,  to  be  sold  for  paper  already  in  circu- 
lation. If  any  credit  is  given,  it  is  to  the  disposition  of  the 


BIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

people  to  pay  the  tax,  and  not  to  the  government  which  lays  it 
on.  When  this  disposition  expires,  what  is  supposed  tp  be  the 
credit  of  government  expires  with  it.  The  instance  of  France, 
under  the  former  government,  shows  that  it  is  impossible  to 
compel  the  payment  of  taxes  by  force,  when  a  whole  nation  is 
determined  to  take  its  stand  upon  that  ground. 

Mr.  Burke,  in  his  review  of  the  finances  of  France,  states 
the  quantity  of  gold  and  silver  in  France  at  about  eighty-eight 
millions  sterling.  In  doing  this  he  has,  I  presume,  divided  by 
the  difference  of  exchange,  instead  of  the  standard  of  twenty- 
four  livres  to  a  pound  sterling;  for  M.  Neckar's  statement, 
from  which  Mr.  Burke's  is  taken,  is  two  thousand  two  hundred 
millions  of  livres,  which  is  upwards  of  ninety-one  millions  and 
a  half  sterling. 

M.  Neckar,  in  France,  and  Mr.  George  Chalmers,  of  the  office 
of  trade  and  plantation  in  England,  of  which  Lord  Hawkesbury 
is  president,  published  nearly  about  the  same  time  (1786)  an 
account  of  the  quantity  of  money  in  each  nation,  from  the  re- 
turns of  the  mint  of  each  nation.  Mr.  Chalmers,  from  the 
returns  of  the  English  mint  at  the  Tower  of  London,  states  the 
quantity  of  money  in  England,  including  Scotland  and  Ireland, 
to  be  twenty  millions  sterling.* 

M.  Neckar  t  says  that  the  amount  of  money  in  France,  re- 
coined  from  the  old  coin  which  was  called  in,  was  two  thousand 
five  hundred  millions  of  livres  (upwards  of  one  hundred  and 
four  millions  sterling),  and,  after  deducting  for  waste,  and  what 
may  be  in  the  West  Indies,  and  other  possible  circumstances, 
states  the  circulating  quantity  at  home  to  be  ninety-one 
millions  and  a  half  sterling;  but,  taking  it  as  Mr.  Burke  has 
put  it,  it  is  sixty -eight  millions  more  than  the  national  quantity 
in  England. 

That  the  quantity  of  money  in  France  cannot  be  under  this 
sum,  may  et  once  be  seen  from  the  state  of  the  French  revenue, 
without  referring  to  the  records  of  the  French  mint  for  proofs. 
The  revenue  of  France  prior  to  the  revolution  was  nearly 
twenty-four  millions  sterling;  and  as  paper  had  then  no  exist- 
ence in  France,  the  whole  revenue  was  collected  upon  gold  and 
silver;  and  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  have  collected 
such  a  quantity  of  revenue  upon  a  less  national  quantity  than 

*  See  "Estimate  of  the  Comparative  Strength  of  Great  Britain,"  by  Geo. 
Chalmers. 

t  See  "Administration  of  the  Finances  of  France,"  roL  Hi.,  by  M.  Neckar. 
A 


o22  RIGHTS  OF   MAlf 

M.  Neckar  has  stated.  Before  the  establishment  of  paper  in 
England,  the  revenue  was  about  a  fourth  part  of  the  national 
amount  of  gold  and  silver,  as  may  be  known  by  referring  to 
the  revenue  prior  to  .  ing  William,  and  the  quantity  of  money 
stated  to  be  in  the  nation  at  that  time,  which  was  nearly  as 
much  as  it  is  now. 

It  can  be  of  no  real  service  to  a  nation,  to  impose  upon  itself, 
or  to  permit  itself  to  be  imposed  upon;  but  the  prejudices  of 
some,  and  the  imposition  of  others,  have  always  represented 
France  as  a  nation  possessing  but  little  money,  whereas  the 
quantity  is  not  only  more  than  four  times  what  the  quantity 
is  in  England,  but  is  considerably  greater  on  a  proportion  of 
numbers.  To  account  for  this  deficiency  on  the  part  of  Eng- 
land, some  reference  should  be  had  to  the  English  system  of 
funding.  It  operates  to  multiply  paper,  and  to  substitute  it  in 
the  room  of  money,  in  various  shapes;  and  the  more  paper  is 
multiplied,  the  more  opportunities  are  afforded  to  export  the 
specie ;  and  it  admits  of  a  possibility  (by  extending  it  to  small 
notes)  of  increasing  paper,  till  there  is  no  money  left. 

I  know  this  is  not  a  pleasant  subject  to  English  readers;  but 
the  matters  I  am  going  to  mention  are  so  important  in  them- 
selves, as  to  require  the  attention  of  men  interested  in  money 
transactions  of  a  public  nature.  There  is  a  circumstance  stated 
by  M.  Neckar,  in  his  treatise  on  the  administration  of  xv° 
finances,  which  has  never  been  attended  to  in  England,  t 
which  forms  the  only  basis  whereon  to  estimate  the  quantity 
of  money  (gold  and  silver)  which  ought  to  be  in  every  nation 
in  Europe,  to  preserve  a  relative  proportion  with  other  nations. 

Lisbon  and  Cadiz  are  the  two  ports  into  which  (money)  gold 
and  silver  from  South  America  are  imported,  and  which  after- 
wards divides  and  spreads  itself  over  Europe  by  means  of  com- 
merce, and  increases  the  quantity  of  money  in  all  parts  of 
Europe.  If,  therefore,  the  amount  of  the  annual  importation 
into  Europe  can  be  known,  and  the  relative  proportion  of  the 
foreign  commerce  of  the  several  nations  by  which  it  is  distribut- 
ed can  be  ascertained,  they  give  a  rule,  sufficiently  true,  to 
ascertain  the  quantity  of  money  which  ought  to  be  found  in  any 
nation  at  any  given  time. 

M.  Neckar  shows  from  the  registers  of  Lisbon  and  Cadiz, 
that  the  importation  of  gold  and  silver  into  Europe,  is  five  mil- 
lions sterling  annually.  He  has  not  taken  it  on  a  single  year, 
but  on  an  average  of  fifteen  succeeding  years,  from  1763  to 


EIGHTS  OF   MAN.  323 

1777,  both  inclusive:  in  which  time  the  amount  was  one  thou- 
sand eight  hundred  million  livres,  which  is  seventy-five  millions 
sterling.* 

From  the  commencement  of  the  Hanover  succession  in  1714, 
to  the  time  Mr.  Chalmers  published,  is  seventy -two  years ;  and 
the  quantity  imported  into  Europe,  in  that  time,  would  be  three 
hundred  and  sixty  millions  sterling. 

If  the  foreign  commerce  of  Great  Britain  be  stated  at  a  sixth 
part  of  what  the  whole  foreign  commerce  of  Europe  amounts  to 
(which  is  probably  an  inferior  estimation  to  what  the  gentle- 
men at  the  exchange  would  allow),  the  proportion  which  Britain 
should  draw  by  commerce,  of  this  sum,  to  keep  herself  on  a  pro- 
portion with  the  rest  of  Europe,  would  be  also  a  sixth  part, 
which  is  sixty  millions  sterling;  and  if  the  same  allowance  for 
waste  and  accident  be  made  for  England,  which  M.  Neckar 
makes  for  France,  the  quantity  remaining  after  these  deduc- 
tions, would  be  fifty-two  millions,  and  this  sum  ought  to  have 
been  in  the  nation  (at  the  time  Mr.  Chalmers  published)  in 
addition  to  the  sum  which  was  in  the  nation  at  the  commence- 
ment of  the  Hanover  succession,  and  to  have  made  in  the  wholo 
at  least  sixty-six  millions  sterling;  instead  of  which  there  were 
but  twenty  millions,  which  is  forty-six  millions  below  its  pro- 
portionate quantity. 

AS  the  quantity  of  gold  and  silver  imported  into  Lisbon  an  i 
Cadiz  is  more  easily  ascertained  than  that  of  any  commodity  'in- 
ported  into  England;  and  as  the  /lantity  of  money  coined  at 
the  Tower  of  London  is  still  more  positively  known,  the  leading 
facts  do  not  admit  of  a  controversy.  Either,  therefore,  the 
commerce  of  England  is  unproductive  of  profit,  or  the  gold  'and 
silver  which  it  brings  in,  leak  continually  away  by  unseen 
means,  at  the  average  rate  of  about  three-quarters  of  a  million 
a-year,  which  in  the  course  of  seventy-two  years,  accounts  for 
the  deficiency;  and  its  absence  is  suppled  by  paper. t 

*  Administration  of  the  Finances  of  France,  -ol.  iii. 

+  Whether  the  English  commerce  does  not  bring  in  money,  or  whether  \f  •» 
government  sends  it  out  after  it  is  brought  in,  is  a  nr  tier  which  the  paities 
concerned  can  best  explain  ;  but  that  the  deficiency  exists  is  not  in  the  power 
of  either  to  disprove.  While  Dr.  Price,  Mr.  Eden  (now  Auckland),  Mr. 
Chalmers,  and  others,  were  debating  whether  the  quantity  of  money  waa 
greater  or  less  than  at  the  revolution,  the  circumstance  was  not  adverted  to, 
that  since  the  revolution  there  cannot  have  been  less  than  four  hundred  mil- 
lions sterling  imported  into  Europe  ;  and  therefore  the  quantity  in  England 
ou'/ht  at  least  to  have  been  four  times  greater  than  it  was  at  the  revolution, 
U*  be  on  a  proportion  with  Europe.  What  England  is  now  doing  by  pap«r, 


:;24  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

The  revolution  of  France  is  attended  with  many  novel  cir- 
cumstances, not  only  in  the  political  sphere,  but  in  the  circle  of 
money  transactions.  Among  others,  it  shows  that  a  govern- 
ment may  be  in  a  state  of  insolvency,  and  a  nation  rich.  So 
far  as  the  fact  is  confined  to  the  late  government  of  France,  it 
was  insolvent;  because  the  nation  would  no  longer  support  its 
extravagance  and  therefore  it  could  no  longer  suppport  itself — 
but  with  respect  to  the  nation  all  the  means  existed.  A  govern- 
ment may  be  said  to  be  insolvent  every  time  it  applies  to  a  nation 
to  discharge  its  arrears.  The  insolvency  of  the  late  government 
of  France,  and  the  present  government  of  England,  differed  in  no 
other  respect  than  as  the  disposition  of  the  people  differ.  The 
people  of  France  refused  their  aid  to  the  old  government,  and  the 
people  of  England  submit  to  taxation  without  inquiry.  What  is 
called  the  crbw^i  in  England  has  been  insolvent  several  times; 
the  last  of  which,  publicly  known,  was  in  May,  1777,  when  it 

is  what  she  should  have  been  able  to  do  by  solid  money,  if  sold  and  silver 
had  come  into  th«  nation  in  the  proportion  it  ought,  or  had  not  been  sent 
out;  and  she  is  endeavoring  to  restore  by  paper  the  balance  she  has  lost  by 
money.  It  is  certain,  that  the  gold  and  silver  which  arrive  annually  in  the 
register-ships  to  Spain  and  Portugal,  do  not  remain  in  those  countries. 
Taking  the  value  half  in  gold  and  half  in  silver,  it  is  about  four  hundred  tona 
annually :  and  from  the  number  of  ships  and  galleons  employed  in  the  trade 
of  bringing  those  metals  from  South  America  to  Portugal  and  Spain,  the 
quantity  sufficiently  proves  itself,  without  referring  to  the  registers. 

In  the  situation  England  now  is,  it  is  impossible  she  can  increase  in  money. 
High  taxes  not  only  lessen  the  property  of  the  individuals,  but  they  lessen 
also  the  money  capital  of  the  nation,  by  inducing  smuggling,  which  can  only 
be  carried  on  by  gold  and  silver.  By  the  politics  which  the  British  govern- 
ment have  carried  on  with  the  inland  powers  of  Germany  and  the  continent, 
it  has  made  an  enemy  of  all  the  maritime  powers,  and  is  therefore  obliged 
to  keep  up  a  large  navy  :  but  though  the  navy  is  built  in  England,  the  naval 
stores  must  be  purchased  from  abroad,  and  that  from  countries  where  the 
greatest  part  must  be  paid  for  in  gold  and  silver.  Some  fallacious  rumors 
have  been  set  afloat  in  England  to  induce  a  belief  of  money,  and,  among 
others,  that  of  the  French  refugees  bringing  great  quantities.  The  idea  if 
ridiculous.  The  general  part  of  the  money  in  France  is  silver ;  and  it  would 
take  upwards  of  twenty  of  the  largest  broad  wheel  wagons,  with  ten  horse* 
each,  to  remove  one  million  sterling  of  silver.  Is  it  then  to  be  supposed, 
that  a  few  people  fleeing  on  horseback  or  in  post-chaises,  in  a  secret  manner, 
and  having  the  French  custom-house  to  pass,  and  the  sea  to  cross,  could 
bring  even  a  sufficiency  for  their  own  expenses  ? 

When  millions  of  money  are  spoken  of,  it  should  be  recollected,  that  such 
sums  can  only  accumulate  in  a  country  by  slow  degrees,  and  a  long  proces- 
sion of  time.  The  most  frugal  system  that  England  could  now  adopt,  would 
not  recover  in  a  century  the  balance  she  has  lost  in  money  since  the  com- 
mencement of  the  Hanover  succession.  She  is  seventy  millions  behind 
France,  and  she  must  be,  in  some  considerable  proportion,  behind  every 
country  in  Europe,  because  the  returns  of  the  English  mint  do  not  show  an 
increase  of  money,  while  the  registers  of  Lisbon  and  Cadiz  show  an  European 
increMe  of  between  three  and  four  hundred  millions  sterling. 


RIGHTS  OF   MAN.  325 

applied  to  the  nation  to  discharge  upwards  of  £600,000  private 
debts,  which  otherwise  it  could  not  pay. 

It  was  the  error  of  Mr.  Pitt,  Mr.  Burke,  and  all  those  who 
were  unacquainted  with  the  affairs  of  France,  to  confound  the 
French  nation  with  the  French  government.  The  French  na- 
tion, in  effect,  endeavored  to  render  the  late  government  insol- 
vent, for  the  purpose  of  taking  government  into  its  own  hands : 
and  it  reserved  its  means  for  the  support  of  the  new  govern- 
ment. In  a  country  of  such  vast  extent  and  population  as 
France,  the  natural  means  cannot  be  wanting;  and  the  political 
means  appear  the  instant  the  nation  is  disposed  to  permit  them. 
When  Mr.  Burke,  in  a  speech  last  winter  in  the  British  parlia- 
ment, cast  his  eyes  over  the  map  of  Europe,  and  saw  a  chasm 
that  once  was  France,  he  talked  like  a  dreamer  of  dreams.  The 
same  natural  France  existed  as  before,  and  all  the  natural 
means  existed  with  it.  The  only  chasm  was  that  which  the 
extinction  of  despotism  had  left,  and  which  was  to  be  tilled  up 
with  a  constitution  more  formidable  in  resources  than  the  power 
which  had  expired. 

Although  the  French  nation  rendered  the  late  government 
insolvent,  it  did  not  permit  the  insolvency  to  act  towards  the 
creditors ;  and  the  creditors  considering  the  nation  as  the  real 
jjaymaster,  and  the  government  only  as  the  agent,  rested  them- 
selves on  the  nation  in  preference  to  the  government.  This 
appears  greatly  to  disturb  Mr.  Burke,  as  the  precedent  is  fatal 
to  the  policy  by  which  governments  have  supposed  themselves 
secure.  They  have  contracted  debts,  with  a  view  of  attaching 
what  is  called  the  monied  interest  of  a  nation  to  their  support; 
but  the  example  in  France  shows  that  the  permanent  security 
of  the  creditor  is  in  the  nation,  and  not  in  the  government;  and 
that  in  all  possible  revolutions  that  may  happen  in  govern- 
ments, the  means  are  always  with  the  nation,  and  the  nation 
always  in  existence.  Mr.  Burke  argues  that  the  creditors 
ought  to  have  abided  the  fate  of  the  government  which  they 
trusted;  but  the  national  assembly  considered  them  as  the 
creditors  of  the  nation,  not  of  the  government — of  the  master, 
and  not  of  the  steward. 

Notwithstanding  the  late  government  could  not  discharge  the 
current  expenses,  the  present  government  has  paid  off  a  great 
part  of  the  capital.  This  has  been  accomplished  by  two  means, 
the  one  by  lessening  the  expenses  of  the  government,  and  the 
other  by  the  sale  of  the  monastic  and  ecclesiastical  landed  estate*. 


RIGHTS   OF  MAN. 

.The  devotees  and  penitent  debauchees,  extortioners  and  misers 
of  former  days,  to  ensure  themselves  a  better  world  than  that 
they  were  about  to  leave,  had  bequeathed  immense  property  in 
trust  to  the  priesthood  for  pious  uses;  and  the  priesthood  kept 
it  for  themselves.  The  national  assembly  has  ordered  it  to  be 
sold  for  the  good  of  the  whole  nation,  and  the  priesthood  to  be 
decently  provided  for. 

In  consequence  of  the  revolution,  the  annual  interest  of  the 
debt  of  France  will  be  reduced  at  least  six  millions  sterling,  by 
paying  off  upwards  of  one  hundred  millions  of  the  capital; 
which,  with  lessening  the  former  expenses  of  government  at 
least  three  millions,  will  place  France  in  a  situation  worthy  the 
imitation  of  Europe. 

Upon  a  whole  review  of  the  subject,  how  vast  is  the  contrast ! 
While  Mr.  Burke  has  been  talking  of  a  general  bankruptcy  in 
France,  the  national  assembly  have  been  paying  off  the  capital 
of  the  national  debt;  and  while  taxes  have  increased  nearly  a 
million  a-year  in  England,  they  have  lowered  several  millions 
a-year  in  France.  Not  a  word  has  either  Mr.  Burke  or  Mr. 
Pitt  said  about  French  affairs,  or  the  state  of  the  French  finan- 
ces, in  the  present  session  of  parliament.  The  subject  begins  to 
be  too  well  understood,  and  imposition  serves  no  longer. 

There  is  a  general  enigma  running  through  the  whole  of  Mr. 
Burke's  book.  He  writes  in  a  rage  against  the  national  as- 
sembly :  but  what  is  he  enraged  about  1  If  his  assertions  were 
as  true  as  they  are  groundless,  and  if  France,  by  her  revolution, 
had  annihilated  her  power,  and  become  what  he  calls  a  chasm, 
it  might  excite  the  grief  of  a  Frenchman  (considering  himself 
as  a  national  man),  and  provoke  his  rage  against  the  national 
assembly;  but  why  should' it  excite  the  rage  of  Mr.  Burke  1 
Alas  !  It  is  not  the  nation  of  France  that  Mr.  Burke  means, 
but  the  court;  and  every  court  in  Europe,  dreading  the  same 
fate,  is  in  mourning.  He  writes  neither  in  the  character  of  a 
Frenchman  nor  an  Englishman,  but  in  the  fawning  character 
of  that  creature,  known  in  all  countries,  as  a  friend  to  none,  a 
courtier.  Whether  it  be  the  court  of  Versailles,  or  the  court 
of  St.  James,  or  of  Carlton  House,  or  the  court  in  expectation, 
signifies  not;  for  the  caterpillar  principles  of  all  courts  and  cour- 
tiers are  alike.  They  form  a  common  policy  throughout  Eu- 
rope, detached  and  separate  from  the  interest  of  the  nations, 
and  while  they  appear  to  quarrel,  they  agree  to  plunder.  No- 
thing can  be  more  terrible  to  a  court  or  courtier,  then  th« 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  327 

revolution  of  France.  That  which  is  a  blessing  to  nations  is 
bitterness  to  them;  and  as  their  existence  depends  on  the  du 
plicity  of  a  country,  they  tremble  at  the  approach  of  principle 
and  dread  the  precedent  that  threatens  their  overthrow. 


CONCLUSION. 

REASON  and  ignorance,  the  opposites  of  each  other,  influence 
the  great  bulk  of  mankind.  If  either  of  these  can  be  rendered 
sufficiently  extensive  in  a  country,  the  machinery  of  govern- 
ment goes  easily  on.  Reason  shows  itself,  and  ignorance  sub- 
mits to  whatever  is  dictated  to  it. 

The  two  modes  of  government  which  prevail  in  the  world, 
are,  1st,  government  by  election  and  representation;  2d,  govern- 
ment by  hereditary  succession.  The  former  is  generally  known 
by  the  name  of  republic;  the  latter  by  that  of  monarchy  and 
aristocracy. 

Those  two  distinct  and  opposite  forms  erect  themselves  on 
the  two  distinct  and  opposite  bases  of  reason  and  ignorance. 
As  the  exercise  of  government  requires  talents  and  abilities, 
and  as  talents  and  abilities  cannot  have  hereditary  descent, 
it  is  evident  that  hereditary  succession  requires  a  belief  from 
man,  to  which  his  reason  cannot  subscribe,  and  which  can  only 
be  established  upon  his  ignorance;  and  themore  ignorant  any 
country  is,  the  better  it  is  fitted  for  the  species  of  government. 

On  the  contrary,  government  in  a  well  constituted  republic 
requires  no  belief  from  man  beyond  what  his  reason  authorizes. 
He  sees  the  rationale  of  the  whole  system,  its  origin,  and  its 
operation ;  and  as  it  is  best  supported  when  best  understood,  the 
human  faculties  act  with  boldness,  and  acquire,  under  this 
form  of  government,  a  gigantic  manliness. 

As,  therefore,  each  of  those  forms  acts  on  a  different  basis,  the 
one  moving  freely  by  the  aid  of  reason,  the  other  by  ignorance , 
we  have  next  to  consider,  what  it  is  that  gives  motion  to  that 
species  of  government  which  is  called  mixed  government,  or,  as 
it  is  sometimes  ludicrously  styled,  a  government  of  this,  that, 
and  t'other. 

The  moving  power  in  this  species  of  government  is,  ot  neces- 
sity, corruption.  However  imperfect  election  and  representation 
may  be  in  mixed  governments,  they  still  give  exertion  to  a 


328  RIGHTS  OF  MAN; 

greater  portion  of  reason  than  is  convenient  to  the  hereditary 
part ;  and  therefore  it  becomes  necessary  to  buy  the  reason  up. 
A  mixed  government  is  an  imperfect  every-thing,  cementing  and 
soldering  the  discordant  parts  together,  by  corruption,  to  act  as 
a  whole.  Mr.  Burke  appears  highly  disgusted,  that  France, 
since  she  had  resolved  on  a  revolution,  did  not  adopt  what  he 
calls  "a  British  constitution  ;"  and  the  regret  which  he  expresses 
on  this  occasion,  implies  a  suspicion,  that  the  British  constitu- 
tion needed  something  to  keep  its  defects  in  countenance. 

In  mixed  governments,  there  is  no  responsibility ;  the  parts 
cover  each  other  till  responsibility  is  lost;  and  the  corruption 
which  moves  the  machine  contrives  at  the  same  time  its  own 
escape.  When  it  is  laid  down  as  a  maxim  that  a  king  can  do 
no  wrong,  it  places  him  in  a  state  of  similar  security  with  that 
of  idiots  and  persons  insane,  and  responsibility  is  out  of  the 
question,  with  respect  to  himself.  It  then  descends  upon  the 
minister,  who  shelters  himself  under  a  majority  in  parliament, 
which,  by  places,  pensions,  and  corruption,  he  can  always  com- 
mand :  and  that  majority  justifies  itself  by  the  same  authority 
with  which  it  protects  the  minister.  In  this  rotatory  motion, 
responsibility  is  thrown  off  from  the  parts,  and  from  the  whole. 

When  there  is  a  part  in  a  government  which  can  do  no  wrong, 
it  implies  that  it  does  nothing;  and  is  only  the  machine  of 
another  power,  by  whose  advice  and  direction  it  acts.  What  is 
supposed  to  be  the  king,  in  mixed  governments,  is  the  cabinet ; 
and  as  the  cabinet  is  always  a  part  of  the  parliament,  and  the 
members  justifying  in  one  character  what  they  act  in  another, 
a  mixed  government  becomes  a  continual  enigma;  entailing  upon 
a  country,  by  the  quantity  of  corruption  necessary  to  solder  the 
parts,  the  expense  of  supporting  all  the  forms  of  government  at 
once,  and  finally  resolving  itself  into  a  government  by  com- 
mittee; in  which  the  advisers,  the  actors,  the  approvers,  the 
justifiers,  the  persons  responsible,  and  the  persons  not  responsi- 
ble, are  the  same  person. 

By  this  pantomimical  contrivance,  and  change  of  scene  and 
character,  the  parts  help  each  other  out  in  matters,  which,  nei- 
ther of  them  singly,  would  presume  to  act.  When  money  is  to 
be  obtained,  them  ass  of  variety  apparently  dissolves,  and  a  pro- 
fusion of  parliamentary  praises  passes  between  the  parts.  Each 
admires,  with  astonishment,  the  wisdom,  the  liberality  and  disin- 
terestedness of  the  other  ;  and  all  of  them  breathe  a  pitying  sigh 
at  the  burdens  of  the  nation. 


RIGHTS   OF  MAN. 

But  in  a  well-conditioned  republic,  nothing  of  this  soldering, 
praising  and  pitying,  can  take  place ;  the  representation  being 
equal  throughout  the  country,  and  complete  in  itself,  however  it 
may  be  arranged  into  legislative  and  executive,  they  have  all 
one  and  the  same  natural  source.  The  parts  are  not  foreigners 
to  each  other,  like  democracy,  aristocracy,  and  monarchy.  As 
there  are  no  discordant  distinctions,  there  is  nothing  to  corrupt 
by  compromise,  nor  confound  by  contrivance.  Public  measures 
appeal  of  themselves  to  the  understanding  of  the  nation,  and, 
resting  on  their  own  merits,  disown  any  flattering  application  to 
vanity.  The  continual  whine  of  lamenting  the  burden  of  taxes, 
however  successfully  it  may  be  practised  in  mixed  governments, 
is  inconsistent  with  the  sense  and  spirit  of  a  republic.  If  taxes 
are  necessary,  they  are  of  course  advantageous;  and  if  they 
require  an  apology,  the  apology  itself  implies  an  impeachment 
Why  then  is  man  thus  imposed  upon,  or  why  does  he  impose 
upon  himself. 

When  men  are  spoken  of  as  kings  and  subjects,  or  when 
government  is  mentioned  under  distinct  or  combined  heads  of 
monarchy,  aristocracy,  and  democracy,  what  is  it  that  reasoning 
man  is  to  understand  by  the  terms'?  If  there  really  existed  in 
the  world  two  more  distinct  and  separate  elements  of  human 
power,  we  should  then  see  the  several  origins  to  which  those 
terms  would  descriptively  apply ;  but  as  there  is  but  one  species 
of  man,  there  can  be  but  one  element  of  human  power,  and  that 
element  is  man  himself.  Monarchy,  aristocracy,  and  democracy 
are  but  creatures  of  imagination ;  and  a  thousand  such  may  be 
contrived  as  well  as  three. 


FROM  the  revolutions  of  America  and  France,  and  the  symp- 
toms that  have  appeared  in  other  countries,  it  is  evident  that 
the  opinion  of  the  world  is  changing  with  respect  to  systems  of 
government,  and  that  revolutions  are  not  within  the  compass  of 
political  calculations.  The  progress  of  time  and  circumstances, 
which  men  assign  to  the  accomplishment  of  great  changes,  is 
too  mechanical  to  measure  the  force  of  the  mind,  and  the  rapi- 
dity of  reflection,  by  which  revolutions  are  generated ;  all  the 
old  governments  have  received  a  shock  from  those  that  already 
appear,  and  which  were  once  more  improbable,  and  are  a  greater 
subject  of  wonder,  than  a  general  revolution  in  Europe  would  be 


3.°>0  RIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

When  we  survey  the  wretched  condition  of  man,  under  the 
monarchical  and  hereditary  systems  of  government,  draggea 
from  his  home  by  one  power,  or  driven  by  another,  and  im- 
poverished by  taxes  more  than  by  enemies,  it  becomes  evident 
that  those  systems  are  bad,  and  that  a  general  revolution  in  the 
principle  and  construction  of  governments  is  necessary. 

What  is  government  more  than  the  management  of  the  affairs 
of  a  nation  ?  It  is  not,  and  from  its  nature  cannot  be,  the  pro- 
perty of  any  particular  man  or  family,  but  of  the  whole  com- 
munity at  whose  expense  it  is  supported;  and  though  by  force 
or  contrivance  it  has  been  usurped  into  an  inheritance,  the 
usurpation  cannot  alter  the  right  of  things.  Sovereignty,  as  a 
matter  of  right,  appertains  to  the  nation  only,  and  not  to  any 
individual;  and  a  nation  has  at  all  times  an  inherent,  indefeasi- 
ble right  to  abolish  any  form  of  government  it  finds  inconven- 
ient, and  establish  such  as  accords  with  its  interest,  disposition, 
and  happiness.  The  romantic  and  barbarous  distinctions  of 
men  into  kings  and  subjects,  though  it  may  suit  the  condition 
of  courtiers  cannot  that  of  citizens;  and  is  exploded  by  the 
principle  upon  which  governments  are  now  founded.  Every 
citizen  is  a  member  of  the  sovereignty,  and  as  such  can  acknow 
ledge  no  personal  subjection;  and  his  obedience  can  be  only  to 
the  laws. 

When  men  think  of  what  government  is,  they  must  neces- 
sarily suppose  it  to  possess  a  knowledge  of  all  the  objects  and 
matters  upon  which  its  authority  is  to  be  exercised.  In  this 
view  of  government,  the  republican  system,  as  established  by 
America  and  France,  operates  to  embrace  the  whole  of  a  nation : 
and  the  knowledge  necessary  to  the  interest  of  all  the  parts,  is  to 
be  found  in  the  centre,  which  the  parts  by  representation  form : 
but  the  old  governments  are  on  a  construction  that  excludes 
knowledge  as  well  as  happiness;  government  by  monks,  who 
know  nothing  of  the  world  beyond  the  walls  of  a  convent,  is  as 
consistent  as  government  by  kings. 

What  were  formerly  called  revolutions,  were  little  more  than 
a  change  of  persons,  or  an  alteration  of  local  circumstances. 
They  rose  and  fell  like  things  of  course,  and  had  nothing  in  their 
existence  or  their  fate  that  could  influence  beyond  the  spot  that 
produced  them.  But  what  we  now  see  in  the  world,  from  the 
revolutions  of  America  and  France,  are  a  renovation  of  the 
natural  order  of  things,  a  system  of  principles  as  universal  as 


BIGHTS  OF  MAN;  331 

truth  and  the  existence  of  man,  and  combining  moral  with 
political  happiness  and  national  prosperity. 

"  I.  Men  are  born,  and  always  continue,  free  and  equal,  in 
respect  to  their  rights.  Civil  distinctions,  therefore,  can  be 
founded  only  on  public  utility. 

"  II.  The  end  of  all  political  associations  is  the  preservation 
of  the  natural  and  imprescriptible  rights  of  man,  and  thesi 
rights  are  liberty,  property,  security,  and  resistance  of  oppre* 
sion. 

"  III.  The  nation  is  essentially  the  source  of  all  sovereignty ; 
nor  can  any  individual,  or  any  body  of  men,  be  entitled  to  any 
authority  which  is  not  expressly  derived  from  it." 

In  these  principles  there  is  nothing  to  throw  a  nation  into 
confusion,  by  inflaming  ambition.  They  are  calculated  to  call 
forth  wisdom  and  abilities,  and  to  exercise  them  for  the  public 
good,  and  not  for  the  emolument  or  aggrandizement  of  particu- 
lar descriptions  of  men  or  families.  Monarchical  sovereignty, 
the  enemy  of  mankind  and  the  source  of  misery,  is  abolished , 
and  sovereignty  itself  is  restored  to  its  natural  and  original 
place,  the  nation. — Were  this  the  case  throughout  Europe,  the 
cause  of  wars  would  be  taken  away. 

It  is  attributed  to  Henry  IV.  of  France,  a  man  of  an  enlarged 
and  benevolent  heart,  that  he  proposed,  about  the  year  1620,  a 
plan  for  abolishing  war  in  Europe.  The  plan  consisted  in  con- 
stituting an  European  congress,  or,  as  the  French  authors 
style  it,  a  pacific  republic;  by  appointing  delegates  from  the 
several  nations,  who  were  to  act,  as  a  court  of  arbitration,  in 
any  disputes  that  might  arise  between  nation  and  nation. 

Had  such  a  plan  been  adopted  at  the  time  it  was  proposed, 
the  taxes  of  England  and  France,  as  two  of  the  parties,  would 
have  been  at  least  ten  millions  sterling  annually,  to  each  nation, 
less  than  they  were  at  the  commencement  of  the  French  revolu- 
tion. 

To  conceive  a  cause  why  such  a  plan  has  not  been  adopted, 
(and  that  instead  of  a  congress  for  the  purpose  of  preventing 
war,  it  has  been  called  only  to  terminate  a  war,  after  a  fruitless 
expense  of  several  years,)  it  will  be  necessary  to  consider  the 
interest  of  governments  as  a  distinct  interest  to  that  of  nations. 
Whatever  is  the  cause  of  taxes  to  a  nation,  becomes  also  the 
means  of  revenue  to  a  government.  Every  war  terminates 
with  an  addition  of  taxes,  and  with  an  addition 

of  revenue ;  and  in  any  event  of  manner  they  are 


332  RIGHTS  OF   MAN. 

now  commenced  and  concluded,  the  power  and  interest  of 
cjovernments  are  increased.  War,  therefore,  from  its  produc- 
tiveness, as  it  easily  furnishes  the  pretence  of  necessity  for  taxes 
and  appointments  to  places  and  offices,  becomes  the  principal 
part  of  the  system  of  old  governments;  and  to  establish  any 
mode  to  abolish  war,  however  advantageous  it  might  be  to 
nations,  would  be  to  take  from  such  government  the  most 
lucrative  of  its  branches.  The  frivolous  matters  upon  which 
war  is  made,  show  the  disposition  and  avidity  of  governments 
to  uphold  the  system  of  war,  and  betray  the  motives  upon  which 
they  act. 

Why  are  not  republics  plunged  into  war,  but  because  the 
nature  of  their  government  does  not  admit  of  an  interest  dis- 
tinct from  that  of  the  nation  1  Even  Holland,  though  an  ill- 
constructed  republic,  and  with  a  commerce  extending  over  the 
world,  existed  nearly  a  century  without  war:  and  the  instant 
the  form  of  government  was  changed  in  France,  the  republican 
principles  of  peace,  and  domestic  prosperity  and  economy,  arose 
with  the  new  government;  and  the  same  consequences  would 
follow  the  same  causes  in  other  nations. 

As  war  is  the  system  of  government  on  the  old  construction, 
the  animosity  which  nations  reciprocally  entertain,  is  nothing 
more  than  what  the  policy  of  their  governments  excite,  to  keep 
up  the  spirit  of  the  system.  Each  government  accuses  the  other 
of  perfidy,  intrigue  and  ambition,  as  a  means  of  heating  the 
imagination  of  their  respective  nations,  and  incensing  them  to 
hostilities.  Man  is  not  the  enemy  of  man,  but  through  the 
medium  of  a  false  system  of  government.  Instead,  therefore, 
of  exclaiming  against  the  ambition  of  kings,  the  exclamation 
should  be  directed  against  the  principle  of  such  governments; 
and  instead  of  seeking  to  reform  the  individual,  the  wisdom  of 
a  nation  should  apply  itself  to  reform  the  system. 

Whether  the  forms  and  maxims  of  governments  which  are 
still  in  practice,  were  adapted  to  the  condition  of  the  world  at 
the  period  they  were  established,  is  not  in  this  case  the  question. 
The  older  they  are  the  less  porrespondence  can  they  have  with 
the  present  state  of  things.  Time,  and  change  of  circumstances 
and  opinions  have  the  same  progressive  effect  in  rendering  modes 
of  government  obsolete,  as  they  have  upon  customs  and  manners. 
Agriculture,  commerce,  manufactures,  and  the  tranquil  arts,  bj 
which  the  prosperity  of  nations  is  best  promoted,  require  a 
different  system  of  government  and  a  different  species  of  know- 


RIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

ledge  to  direct  its  operations,  to  what  might  have  been  the 
former  condition  of  the  world. 

As  it  is  not  difficult  to  perceive,  from  the  enlightened  state 
of  mankind,  that  the  hereditary  governments  are  verging  to 
their  decline,  and  that  revolutions  on  the  broad  basis  of  national 
sovereignty,  and  government  by  representation,  are  making  their 
way  in  Europe,  it  would  be  an  act  of  wisdom  to  anticipate  their 
approach,  and  produce  revolutions  by  reason  and  accommodation, 
rather  than  commit  them  to  the  issue  of  convulsions. 

From  what  we  now  see,  nothing  of  reform  in  the  political 
world  ought  to  be  held  improbable.  It  is  an  age  of  revolutions, 
in  which  everything  may  be  looked  for.  The  intrigue  of  courts, 
by  which  the  system  of  war  is  kept  up  may  provoke  a  confedera- 
tion of  nations  to  abolish  it:  and  an  European  congress  to  pat- 
ronise the  progress  of  free  government,  and  promote  the  civil- 
ization of  nations  with  each  other  is  an  event  nearer  in  proba- 
bility, than  once  were  the  revolutions  and  alliances  of  France 
and  America. 


RIGHTS    OF    MAN: 

PART  IL 
COMBINING  PRINCIPLES  AND  PRACTICE. 


M.    DE   LA   FAYETTE. 

AFTEB  an  acquaintance  of  nearly  fifteen  years,  in  difficult  situations  • 
America,  and  various  consultations  m  Europe,  I  feel  a  pleasure  in  present, 
mg  you  this  small  treatise  in  gratitude  for  your  services  to  my  beloved 
America,  and  as  a  testimony  of  my  esteem  tor  the  virtues,  public  and 
private,  which  I  know  you  to  possess. 

The  only  point  upon  which  I  could  ever  discover  that  we  differed,  was  not 
as  to  principles  of  government,  but  as  to  time.  For  my  own  part,  I  think 
it  equally  as  injurious  to  good  principles  to  permit  them  to  linger,  as  to  push 
them  on  too  fast.  That  which  you  suppose  accomplishable  in  fourteen  or 
fifteen  years,  I  may  believe  practicable  in  a  much  shorter  period.  Man- 
kind, as  it  appears  to  me,  are  always  ripe  enough  to  understand  their  true 
interest,  provided  it  be  represented  clearly  to  their  understanding,  and  that 
in  a  manner  not  to  create  suspicion  by  anything  like  self-design,  nor  to 
offend  by  assuming  too  much.  Where  we  would  wish  to  reform  we  must 
not  reproach. 

When  the  American  revolution  was  established,  I  felt  a  disposition  to  sit 
serenely  down  and  enjoy  the  calm.  It  did  not  appear  to  me  that  any  object 
could  afterwards  arise  great  enough  to  make  me  quit  tranquillity,  and  feel 
as  I  had  felt  before.  But  when  principle,  and  not  place,  is  the  energetic 
cause  of  action,  a  man,  I  find,  is  everywhere  the  same. 

I  am  now  once  more  in  the  public  world ;  and  as  I  have  not  a  right  to 
contemplate  on  so  many  years  of  remaining  life  as  you  have,  I  am  resolved 
to  labor  as  fast  as  I  can ;  and  as  I  am  anxious  for  your  aid  and  your  com- 
pany, I  wish  you  to  hasten  your  principles  and  overtake  me. 

If  you  make  a  campaign  the  ensuing  spring,  which  it  is  most  probable 
there  will  be  no  occasion  for,  I  will  come  and  join  you.  Should  the  cam- 
paign commence  I  hope  ib  will  terminate  in  the  extinction  of  German 
despotism,  and  in  establishing  the  freedom  of  all  Germany.  When  France 
shall  be  surrrounded  with  revolutions,  she  will  be  in  peace  and  safety,  and 
her  taxes,  as  well  as  those  of  Germany,  will  consequently  become  less. 
Your  sincere, 

Affectionate  friend, 

THOMAB  PAOT& 

LON  DON,  February  9,  1799. 


PREFACE. 


WHEN  I  began  the  chapter  entitled  the  Conclusion,  in  the 
former  part  of  the  "  Rights  of  Man,"  published  last  year,  it 
was  my  intention  to  have  extended  it  to  a  greater  length;  but 
in  casting  the  whole  matter  in  my  mind  which  I  wished  to 
add,  I  found  that  I  must  either  make  the  work  too  bulky,  or 
coontract  my  plan  too  much.  I  therefore  brought  it  to  a  clos 
a  soon  as  the  subject  would  admit,  and  reserved  what  I  had 
further  to  say  to  another  opportunity. 

Several  other  reasons  contributed  to  produce  this  determina- 
tion. I  wished  to  know  the  manner  in  which  a  work,  written 
in  a  style  of  thinking  and  expression  at  variance  with  what 
had  been  customary  in  England,  would  be  received,  before  I 
proceeded  further.  A  great  field  was  opening  to  the  view  of 
mankind  by  means  of  the  French  revolution.  Mr.  Burke's 
outrageous  opposition  thereto  brought  the  controversy  into 
England.  He  attacked  principles  which  he  knew  (from  infor- 
mation) I  would  contest  with  him,  because  they  are  principles 
I  believe  to  be  good,  and  which  I  have  contributed  to  establish, 
and  conceive  myself  bound  to  defend.  Had  he  not  urged  the 
controversy,  I  had- most  probably  been  a  silent  man. 

Another  reason  for  deferring  the  remainder  of  the  work  was, 
that  Mr.  Burke  promised  in  his  first  publication  to  renew  the 
subject  at  another  opportunity,  and  to  make  a  comparison  of 
what  he  called  the  English  and  French  constitutions.  I  there- 
fore held  myself  in  reserve  for  him.  He  has  published  two 
works  since,  without  doing  this;  which  he  certainly  would  not 
have  omitted,  had  the  comparison  been  in  his  favor. 

In  his  last  work,  his  "Appeal  from  the  New  to  the  Old 
Whigs,"  he  has  quoted  about  ten  pages  from  the  "  Rights  ol 
Man,"  and  having  given  himself  the  trouble  of  doing  this,  says, 
"he  shall  not  attempt  in  thw  smallest  degree  to  refute  them," 
meaning  the  principles  therein  contained.  I  am  enough  ac- 
quainted with  Mr.  Burke  to  know  that  he  would  if  he  could. 
But  instead  of  contesting  them,  he  immediately  after  consoles 


o40  PREFACE. 

himself  with  saying  that  "he  has  done  his  part." — He  has  not 
done  his  part.  He  has  not  performed  his  promise  of  a  com- 
parison of  constitutions.  He  started  a  controversy,  he  gave  the 
challenge,  and  has  fled  from  it;  and  he  is  now  a  case  in  point 
with  his  own  opinion,  that  "the  age  of  chivalry  is  gone/" 

The  title,  as  well  as  the  substance  of  his  last  work,  his 
"Appeal,"  is  his  condemnation.  Principles  must  rest  on  their 
own  merits,  and  if  they  are  good,  they  certainly  will.  To  put 
them  under  the  shelter  of  other  men's  authority,  as  Mr.  Burke 
has  done,  serves  to  bring  them  into  suspicion.  Mr.  Burke  is 
not  very  fond  of  dividing  his  honors,  but  in  this  he  is  artfully 
dividing  the  disgrace. 

But  who  are  those  to  whom  Mr.  Burke  has  appealed  1  A 
set  of  childish  thinkers  and  half-way  politicians  born  in  the 
last  century ;  men  who  went  no  further  \rith  any  principle  than 
as  it  suited  their  purpose  as  a  party ;  me  nation  sees  nothing 
in  such  works,  or  such  politics,  worth  its  attention.  A  little 
matter  will  move  a  party,  but  it  must  be  something  great  that 
moves  a  nation. 

Though  I  see  nothing  in  Mr.  Burke's  Appeal  worth  taking 
notice  of,  there  is,  however,  one  expression  upon  which  I  shall 
offer  a  few  remarks. — After  quoting  largely  from  the  "Rights 
of  Man,"  and  delining  to  contest  the  principles  contained  in 
that  work,  he  says,  "  This  will  most  probably  be  done  (if  such 
writings  shall  be  thought  to  deserve  any  other  refutation  than 
tJtat  of  criminal  justice)  by  others,  who  may  think  with  Mr. 
Burke  and  with  the  same  zeal." 

In  the  first  place,  it  has  not  been  done-  by  anybody.  Not 
less,  I  believe,  than  eight  or  ten  pamphlets,  intended  as  answers 
to  the  former  part  of  the  "  Rights  of  Man "  have  been  pub- 
lished by  different  persons,  and  not  one  of  them,  to  my  know- 
ledge, has  extended  to  a  second  edition,  nor  are  even  the  titles 
of  them  so  much  as  generally  remembered.  As  I  am  averse  to 
unnecessarily  multiplying  publications,  I  have  answered  none 
of  them.  And  as  I  believe  that  a  man  may  write  himself  out 
of  reputation  when  nobody  else  can  do  it,  I  am  careful  to  avoid 
that  rock 

But  as  I  decline  unnecessary  publications  on  the  one  hand, 
so  would  I  avoid  anything  that  looked  like  sullen  pride  on  the 
other.  If  Mr.  Burke,  or  any  person  on  his  side  the  question, 
will  produce  an  answer  to  the  "Rights  of  Man,"  that  shall 
extend  to  a  half,  or  even  a  fourth  part  of  the  number  of  copies 


PREFACE.  341 

to  which  the  "  Rights  of  Man  "  extended,  I  will  reply  to  his 
work.  But,  until  this  be  done,  I  shall  so  far  take  the  sense  of 
the  public  for  my  guide  (and  the  world  knows  I  am  not  a  flat- 
terer) that  what  they  do  not  think  worth  while  to  read,  is  not 
worth  mine  to  answer.  I  suppose  the  number  of  copies  to 
which  the  first  part  of  the  "  Rights  of  Man  "  extended,  taking 
England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland,  is  not  less  than  between  forty 
and  fifty  thousand. 

I  now  come  to  remark  on  the  remaining  part  of  the  quota- 
tion I  have  made  from  Mr.  Burke. 

"If,"  says  he,  "such  writings  shall  be  thought  to  deserve 
any  other  refutation  than  that  of  criminal  justice." 

Pardoning  the  pun,  it  must  be  criminal  justice  indeed  that 
should  condemn  a  work  as  a  substitute  for  not  being  able  to  refute 
it.  The  greatest  condemnation  that  could  be  passed  upon  it  would 
be  a  refutation.  But,  in  proceeding  by  the  method  Mr.  Burke 
alludes  to,  the  condemnation  would,  in  the  final  event,  pass 
upon  the  criminality  of  the  process  and  not  upon  the  work,  and 
in  this  case,  I  had  rather  be  the  author,  than  be  either  the 
judge  or  the  jury  that  should  condemn  it. 

But  to  come  at  once  to  the  point.  I  have  differed  from  some 
professional  gentlemen  on  the  subject  of  prosecutions,  and  I 
since  find  they  are  falling  into  my  opinion,  which  I  shall  here 
state  as  fully,  but  as  concisely  as  I  can. 

I  will  first  put  a  case  with  respect  to  any  law,  and  then 
compare  it  with  a  government,  or  with  what  in  England  is  or 
has  been  called  a  constitution. 

It  would  be  an  act  of  despotism,  or  what  in  England  is  called 
arbitrary  power,  to  make  a  law  to  prohibit  investigating  the 
principles,  good  or  bad,  on  which  such  a  law,  or  any  other  is 
founded. 

If  a  law  be  bad,  it  is  one  thing  to  oppose  the  practice  of  it, 
but  it  is  quite  a  different  thing  to  expose  its  errors,  to  reason 
on  its  defects,  and  to  show  cause  why  it  should  be  repealed,  or 
why  another  ought  to  be  substituted  in  its  place.  I  have 
always  held  it  an  opinion  (making  it  also  my  practice)  that 
it  is  better  to  obey  a  bad  law,  making  use  at  the  same  time  of 
every  argument  to  show  its  errors,  and  procure  its  repeal,  than 
forcibly  to  violate  it ;  because  the  precedent  of  breaking  a  bad 
law  might  weaken  the  force,  and  lead  to  a  discretionary  viola- 
tion of  those  which  are  good. 

The  case  is  the  same  with  respect  to  principles  and  forms 


342  PREFACE. 

of  government,  or  to  what  are  called  constitutions,  and  the  parts 
of  which  they  are  composed. 

It  is  for  the  good  of  nations,  and  not  for  the  emolument  or 
aggrandizement  of  particular  individuals,  that  government 
ought  to  be  established,  and  that  mankind  are  at  the  expense 
of  supporting  it.  The  defects  of  every  government  and  consti- 
tution both  as  to  principle  and  form,  must,  on  a  parity  of  rea- 
soning, be  as  open  to  discussion  as  the  defects  of  a  law,  and  it 
is  a  duty  which  every  man  owes  to  society  to  point  them  out. 
When  those  defects  and  the  means  of  remedying  them,  are 
generally  seen  by  a  nation,  that  nation  will  reform  its  govern- 
ment or  its  constitution  in  the  one  case,  as  the  government 
repealed  or  reformed  the  law  in  the  other.  The  operation  of 
government  is  restricted  to  the  making  and  the  administering 
of  laws;  but  it  is  to  a  nation  that  the  right  of  forming  or  re- 
forming, generating  or  regenerating  constitutions  and  govern- 
ments belong;  and  consequently  those  subjects,  as  subjects  of 
investigation,  are  always  before  a  country  as  a  matter  of  right, 
and  cannot,  without  invading  the  general  rights  of  that  country, 
be  made  subjects  for  prosecution.  On  this  ground  I  will  meet 
Mr.  Burke  whenever  he  pleases.  It  is  better  that  the  whole 
argument  should  come  out,  than  to  seek  to  stifle  it.  It  was  him- 
self that  opened  the  controversy,  and  he  ought  not  to  desert  it. 

I  do  not  believe  that  monarchy  and  aristocracy  will  continue 
seven  years  longer  in  any  of  the  enlightened  countries  of  Europe. 
If  better  reasons  can  be  shown  for  them  than  against  them, 
they  will  stand;  if  the  contrary,  they  will  not.  Mankind  are 
not  now  to  be  told  they  shall  not  think,  or  they  shall  not  read : 
and  publications  that  go  no  further  than  to  investigate  principles 
of  government,  to  invite  men  to  reason  and  to  reflect,  and  to  show 
the  errors  and  excellencies  of  different  systems,  have  a  right  to 
appear.  If  they  do  not  excite  attention,  they  are  not  worth  the 
trouble  of  a  prosecution;  and  if  they  do,  the  prosecution  will 
amount  to  nothing,  since  it  cannot  amount  to  a  prohibition  of 
reading.  This  would  be  a  sentence  on  the  public,  instead  of 
the  author,  and  would  also  be  the  most  effectual  mode  of  mak- 
ing or  hastening  revolutions. 

On  all  cases  that  apply  universally  to  a  nation,  with  respect 
to  systems  of  government,  a  jury  of  twelve  men  is  not  competent 
to  decide.  Where  there  are  no  witnesses  to  be  examined,  no 
facts  to  be  proved,  and  where  the  whole  matter  is  before  the 
whole  public,  and  the  merits  or  demerits  of  resting  on  their 


PREFACE.  343 

opinion;  and  where  there  is  nothing  to  be  known  In  a  court, 
but  what  everybody  knows  out  of  it,  every  twelve  men  are 
equally  as  good  a  jury  as  the  other,  and  would  most  probably 
reverse  each  other's  verdict;  or,  from  the  variety  of  their 
opinions,  not  be  able  to  form  one.  It  is  one  case  whether  a 
nation  approve  a  work,  or  a  plan ;  but  it  is  quite  another  case 
whether  it  will  commit  to  any  such  jury  the  power  of  determin- 
ing whether  that  nation  has  a  right  to,  or  shall  reform  its  gov- 
ernment, or  not.  I  mention  these  cases,  that  Mr.  Burke  may 
see  I  have  not  written  on  government  without  reflecting  on 
what  is  law  as  well  as  on  what  are  rights. — The  only  effectual 
jury  in  such  cases  would  be  a  convention  of  the  whole  nation 
fairly  elected;  for,  in  all  such  cases,  the  whole  nation  is  the 
vicinage. 

As  to  the  prejudices  which  men  have,  from  education  and 
habit,  in  favor  of  any  particular  form  or  system  of  government, 
those  prejudices  have  yet  to  stand  the  test  of  reason  and  reflec- 
tion. In  fact  such  prejudices  are  nothing.  No  man  is  preju- 
diced in  favor  of  a  thing  knowing  it  to  be  wrong.  He  is  at- 
tached to  it  on  the  belief  of  its  being  right;  and  when  he  sees 
it  is  not  so,  the  prejudice  will  be  gone.  We  have  but  a  defec- 
tive idea  of  what  prejudice  is.  It  might  be  said  that  until  men 
think  for  themselves  the  whole  is  prejudice  and  not  opinion; 
for  that  only  is  opinion  which  is  the  result  of  reason  and  reflec- 
tion. I  offer  this  remark,  that  Mr.  Burke  may  not  confide  too 
much  in  what  has  been  the  customary  prejudices  of  the  country. 

But  admitting  governments  to  be  changed  all  over  Europe, 
it  certainly  may  be  done  without  convulsion  or  revenge.  It  is 
not  worth  making  changes  or  revolutions,  unless  it  be  for  some 
great  national  benefit,  and  when  this  shall  appear  to  a  nation, 
the  danger  will  be,  as  in  America  and  France,  to  those  who 
oppose,  and  with  this  reflection  I  close  my  preface. 

THOMAS  PAINK. 
LojnxM,  feb  9,  2701 


BIGHTS  OF  MAN. 


PABT  IL 


WHAT  Archimedes  said  of  the  mechanical  powers,  may  be 
applied  to  reason  and  liberty:  "Had  we"  said  he,  "a  place  to 
stand  upon,  we  might  raise  the  world" 

The  revolution  in  America  presented  in  politics  what  was 
only  theory  in  mechanics.  So  deeply  rooted  were  all  the  govern- 
ments of  the  old  world,  and  so  effectually  had  the  tyranny  and 
the  antiquity  of  habit  established  itself  over  the  mind,  that  no 
beginning  could  be  made  in  Asia,  Africa,  or  Europe,  to  reform 
the  political  condition  of  man.  Freedom  had  been  hunted 
round  the  globe:  reason  was  considered  as  rebellion;  and  the 
slavery  of  fear  had  made  men  afraid  to  think. 

But  such  is  the  irrestible  nature  of  truth,  that  all  it  asks,  and 
all  it  wants,  is  the  liberty  of  appearing.  The  sun  needs  no  in- 
scription to  distinguish  him  from  darkness,  and  no  sooner  did 
the  American  governments  display  themselves  to  the  world 
than  despotism  felt  a  shock,  and  man  began  to  contemplate 
redress. 

The  independence  of  America,  considered  merely  as  a  separa- 
tion from  England,  would  have  been  a  matter  but  of  little  im- 
portance, had  it  not  been  accompanied  by  a  revolution  in  the 
principles  and  practice  of  government.  She  made  a  stand,  not 
for  herself  only,  but  for  the  world,  and  looked  beyond  the  ad- 
vantages which  she  could  receive.  Even  the  Hessian,  though 
hired  to  fight  against  her,  may  live  to  bless  his  defeat;  and 
England,  condemning  the  viciousness  of  its  government,  rejoice 
in  its  miscarriage. 

As  America  was  the  only  spot  in  the  political  world  where 
the  principles  of  universal  reformation  could  begin,  so  also  was 
it  the  best  in  the  natural  world.  An  assemblage  of  circum- 
stances conspired,  not  only  tn  jjivn  birth,  but  to  add  gigantic 


346  RIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

maturity  to  its  principles.  The  scene  which  that  country  pre- 
sents to  the  eye  of  the  spectator,  has  something  in  it  which 
generates  and  enlarges  great  ideas.  Nature  appears  to  him  in 
magnitude.  The  mighty  objects  he  beholds  act  upon  the  mind 
by  enlarging  it,  and  he  partakes  of  the  greatness  he  contem- 
plates. Its  first  settlers  were  emigrants  from  different  European 
nations,  and  of  diversified  professions  of  religion,  retiring  from 
the  governmental  persecutions  of  the  old  world,  and  meeting  rn 
the  new,  not  as  enemies,  but  as  brothers.  The  wants  which 
necessarily  accompany  the  cultivation  of  a  wilderness,  produced 
among  them  a  state  of  society,  whieh  countries  long  harassed  by 
the  quarrels  and  intrigues  of  governments  had  neglected  to 
cherish.  In  such  a  situation  man  becomes  what  he  ought  to- 
be.  He  sees  his  species,  not  with  the  inhuman  idea  of  a  natural 
enemy,  but  as  kindred ;  and  the  example  shows  to  the  artificial 
world,  that  man  must  go  back  to  nature  for  information. 

From  the  rapid  progress  which  America  makes  in  every 
species  of  improvement,  it  is  rational  to  conclude  that  if  the 
governments  of  Asia,  Africa  and  Europe,  had  begun  on  a  prin- 
ciple similar  to  that  of  America,  or  had  they  not  been  very 
early  corrupted  therefrom,  those  countries  must  by  this  time 
have  been  in  a  far  superior  condition  to  what  they  are.  Age 
after  age  has  passed  away,  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  behold 
their  wretchedness.  Could  we  suppose  a  spectator  who  knew 
nothing  of  the  world,  and  who  was  put  into  it  merely  to  make 
his  observations,  he  would  take  a  great  part  of  the  old  world  to 
be  new,  just  struggling  with  the  difficulties  and  hardships  of  an 
infant  settlement.  He  could  not  suppose  that  the  hordes  of 
miserable  poor,  with  which  old  countries  abound,  could  be  any 
other  than  those  who  had  not  yet  been  able  to  provide  for  them- 
selves. Little  would  he  think  they  were  the  consequence  of 
what  in  such  countries  is  called  government. 

If,  from  the  more  wretched  parts  of  the  old  world,  we  look 
at  those  which  are  in  an  advanced  state  of  improvement,  we 
still  find  the  greedy  hand  of  government  thrusting  itself  into 
every  corner  and  crevice  of  industry,  and  grasping  the  spoil  of 
the  multitude.  Invention  is  continually  exercised  to  furnish 
new  pretences  for  revenue  and  taxation.  It  watches  prosperity 
as  its  prey,  and  permits  none  to  escape  without  a  tribute. 

As  revolutions  have  begun  (and  as  the  probability  is  always 
greater  against  a  thing  beginning,  than  of  proceeding  after  it 
has  begun),  it  is  natural  to  expect  that  other  revolutions  will 


RIGHTS   OF  MAN.  347 

follow.  The  amazing  and  still  increasing  expenses  with  which 
old  governments  are  conducted,  the  numerous  wars  they  engage 
in  or  provoke,  the  embarrassments  they  throw  in  the  way  of 
universal  civilization  and  commerce,  and  the  oppression  and 
usurpation  acted  at  home,  have  wearied  out  the  patience,  and 
exhausted  the  property  of  the  world.  In  such  a  situation,  and 
with  such  examples  already  existing,  revolutions  are  to  be 
looked  for.  They  are  become  subjects  of  universal  conversa- 
tion, and  may  be  considered  as  the  order  of  the  day. 

If  systems  of  government  can  be  introduced  less  expensive, 
and  more  productive  of  general  happiness,  than  those  which 
have  existed,  all  attemps  to  oppose  their  progress  will  in  the 
end  prove  fruitless.  Reason,  like  time,  will  make  its  own  way, 
and  prejudice  will  fall  in  the  combat  with  interest.  If  uni- 
versal peace,  harmony,  civilization  and  commerce  are  ever  to  be 
the  happy  lot  of  man,  it  cannot  be  accomplished  but  by  a  revolu- 
tion in  the  present  system  of  governments.  All  the  monarchical 
governments  are  military.  War  is  their  trade;  plunder  and 
revenue  their  objects  While  such  governments  continue,  peace 
has  not  the  absolute  security  of  a  day  What  is  the  history  of 
all  monarchical  governments  but  a  disgustful  picture  of  human 
wretchedness,  and  the  accidental  respite  of  a  few  years'  repose  1 
Wearied  with  war,  and  tired  with  human  butchery,  they  sat 
<lo\vn  to  rest  and  culled  it  peace  This  certainly  is  not  the  con- 
dition that  heaven  intended  for  man;  and  if  this  be  monarchy, 
well  might  monarchy  be  reckoned  among  the  sins  of  the  Jews. 
The  revolutions  which  formerly  took  place  in  the  world,  had 
nothing  in  them  that  interested  the  bulk  of  mankind.  They 
••x tended  only  to  a  change  of  persons  and  measures,  but  not  of 
principles,  and  rose  or  fell  among  the  common  transactions  of 
the  moment.  What  we  now  behold,  may  not  improperly  be 
i ailed  a  "counter  revolution"  Conquest  and  tyranny,  at  some 
»-arly  period,  dispossessed  man  of  his  rights,  and  he  is  now  re- 
covering them.  And  as  the  tide  of  human  affairs  has  its  ebb 
and  flow  in  directions  contrary  to  each  other,  so  also  is  it  in 
this.  Government  founded  on  a  moral  theory,  on  a  system  of 
universal  peace,  on  the  indefeasible,  hereditary  rights  of  man,  is 
now  revolving  from  west  to  east  by  a  stronger  impulse  than  the 
government  of  the  sword  revolved  from  east  to  west.  It  in- 
terests not  particular  individuals  but  nations  in  its  progress, 
and  promises  a  new  era  to  the  human  race. 

The  danger  to  which  the  success  of  revolutions  is  most  ex 


348  RIGHTS  OF   MAN. 

posed,  is  that  of  attempting  them  before  the  principles  on  which 
they  proceed,  and  the  advantages  to  result  from  them,  are  suf- 
ficiently understood.  Almost  everything  appertaining  to  the 
circumstances  of  a  nation  has  been  absorbed  and  confounded 
under  the  general  and  mysterious  word  government.  Though 
it  avoids  taking  to  its  account  the  errors  it  commits,  and  the 
mischiefs  it  occasions,  it  fails  not  to  arrogate  to  itself  whatever 
has  the  appearance  of  prosperity.  It  robs  industry  of  its  honors, 
by  pedantically  making  itself  the  cause  of  its  effects ;  and  pur- 
loins from  the  general  character  of  man  the  merits  that  apper- 
tain to  him  as  a  social  being. 

It  may  therefore  be  of  use  in  this  day  of  revolutions,  to  dis- 
criminate between  those  things  which  are  the  effect  of  govern- 
ment, and  those  which  are  not.  This  will  best  be  done  by 
taking  a  review  of  society  and  civilization,  and  the  consequences 
resulting  therefrom,  as  things  distinct  from  what  are  called 
governments.  By  beginning  with  this  investigation,  we  shall 
be  able  to  assign  effects  to  their  proper  causes,  and  analyze  the 
mass  of  common  errors. 


CHAPTER  I. 
OF  SOCIETY  AND  CIVILIZATION. 

A  GREAT  part  of  that  order  which  reigns  among  mankind  is 
not  the  effect  of  government.  It  had  its  origin  in  the  principles 
of  society,  and  the  natural  constitution  of  man.  It  existed 
prior  to  government,  and  would  exist  if  the  formality  of  govern- 
ment was  abolished.  The  mutual  dependence  and  reciprocal 
interest  which  man  has  in  man,  and  all  the  parts  of  a  civilized 
community  upon  each  other,  create  that  great  chain  of  connex- 
ion which  holds  it  together.  The  landholder,  the  farmer,  the 
manufacturer,  the  merchant,  the  tradesman,  and  every  occupa- 
tion prospers  by  the  aid  which  each  receives  from  the  other,  and 
from  the  whole.  Common  interest  regulates  their  concerns, 
and  forms  their  laws;  and  the  laws  which  common  usage 
ordains,  have  a  greater  influence  than  the  laws  of  government. 
In  fine,  society  performs  for  itself  almost  everything  which  is 
ascribed  to  government. 

To  understand  the  nature  and  quantity  of  government  proper 
for  man,  't  is  necessary  to  attend  to  his  character  As  nature 


BIGHTS  OF   MAN. 

created  him  for  social  life,  she  fitted  him  for  the  station  she 
intended.  In  all  cases  she  made  his  natural  wants  greater  than 
his  individual  powers.  No  one  man  is  capable,  without  the  aid 
of  society,  of  supplying  his  own  wants;  and  those  wants  acting 
upon  every  individual,  impel  the  whole  of  them  into  society,  aa 
naturally  as  gravitation  acts  to  a  centre. 

But  she  has  gone  further.  She  has  not  only  forced  man  into 
society  by  a  diversity  of  wants,  which  the  reciprocal  aid  of 
each  other  can  supply,  but  she  has  implanted  in  him  a  system 
of  social  affections,  which,  though  not  necessary  to  his  exis- 
tence, are  essential  to  his  happiness.  There  is  no  period  in  life 
when  this  love  for  society  ceases  to  act.  It  begins  and  ends 
with  our  being. 

If  we  examine,  with  attention,  into  the  composition  and  con- 
stitution of  man,  the  diversity  of  talents  in  different  men  for 
reciprocally  accommodating  the  wants  of  each  other,  his  pro- 
pensity to  society,  and  consequently  to  preserve  the  advantages 
resulting  from  it,  we  shall  easily  discover  that  a  great  part  of 
what  is  called  government  is  mere  imposition. 

Government  is  no  further  necessary  than  to  supply  the  few 
cases  to  which  society  and  civilization  are  not  conveniently 
competent;  and  instances  are  not  wanting  to  show  that  every- 
thing which  government  can  usefully  add  thereto,  has  been 
performed  by  the  common  consent  of  society,  without  govern- 
ment 

For  upwards  of  two  years  from  the  commencement  of  the 
American  war,  and  a  longer  period  in  several  of  the  American 
states,  there  were  no  established  forms  of  government.  The 
old  governments  had  been  abolished,  and  the  ccumtry  was  too 
much  occupied  in  defence  to  employ  its  attention  in  establish- 
ing new  governments;  yet,  during  this  interval,  order  and  har- 
mony were  preserved  as  inviolate  as  in  any  country  in  Europe. 
There  is  a  natural  aptness  in  man,  and  more  so  in  society,  be- 
cause it  embraces  a  greater  variety  of  abilities  and  resources,  to 
accommodate  itself  to  whatever  situation  it  is  in.  The  instant 
formal  government  is  abolished,  society  begins  to  act.  A  gen- 
eral association  takes  place,  and  common  interest  produces  com- 
mon security. 

So  far  is  it  from  being  true,  as  has  been  pretended,  that  the 
abolition  of  any  formal  government  ist  the  dissolution  of  society, 
it  acts  by  a  contrary  impulse,  and  brings  the  latter  the  closer 
together.  All  that  part  of  its  organization  which  it  had  com- 


350  RIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

mitted  to  its  government,  devolves  again  upon  itself,  and  acts 
through  its  medium.  When  men,  as  well  from  natural  instinct 
as  from  reciprocal  benefits,  have  habituated  themselves  to  social 
and  civilized  life,  there  is  always  enough  of  its  principles  in 
practice  to  carry  them  through  any  changes  they  may  find  ne- 
cessary or  convenient  to  make  in  their  government  In  short, 
man  is  so  naturally  a  creature  of  society,  that  it  is  almost  im- 
possible to  put  him  out  of  it. 

Formal  government  makes  but  a  small  part  of  civilized  life ; 
and  when  even  the  best  that  human  wisdom  can  devise  is  estab- 
lished, it  is  a  thing  more  in  name  and  idea  than  in  fact.  It  is 
to  the  great  and  fundamental  principles  of  society  and  civiliza- 
tion— to  the  common  usage  universally  consented  to,  and  mutu- 
ally and  reciprocally  maintained — to  the  unceasing  circulation 
of  interest,  which  passing  through  its  innumerable  channels, 
invigorates  the  whole  mass  of  civilized  man — it  is  to  these 
things,  infinitely  more  than  anything  which  even  the  best  insti- 
tuted government  can  perform,  that  the  safety  and  prosperity 
of  the  individual  and  of  the  whole  depends. 

The  more  perfect  civilization  is,  the  less  occasion  has  it  for 
government,  because  the  more  does  it  regulate  its  own  affairs, 
and  govern  itself;  but  so  contrary  is  the  practice  of  old  govern- 
ments to  the  reason  of  the  case,  that  the  expenses  of  them  in- 
crease in  the  proportion  they  ought  to  diminish.  It  is  but  few 
general  laws  that  civilized  life  requires,  and  those  of  such  com- 
mon usefulness,  that  whether  they  are  enforced  by  the  forms  of 
government  or  not,  the  effect  will  be  nearly  the  same.  If  we 
consider  what  the  principles  are  that  first  condense  man  into 
society,  and  what  the  motives  that  regulate  their  mutual  inter- 
course afterwards,  we  shall  find,  by  the  time  we  arrive  at  what 
is  called  government,  that  nearly  the  whole  of  the  business 
is  performed  by  the  natural  operation  of  the  parts  upon  each 
other. 

Man,  with  respect  to  all  those  matters,  is  more  a  creature  of 
consistency  than  he  is  aware  of,  or  than  governments  would 
wish  him  to  believe.  All  the  great  laws  of  society  are  laws  of 
nature.  Those  of  trade  and  commerce,  whether  with  respect  to 
the  intercourse  of  individuals  or  of  nations,  are  laws  of  mutual 
and  reciprocal  interest.  They  are  followed  and  obeyed  because 
it  is  the  interest  of  the  pajties  so  to  do,  and  not  on  account  of 
any  formal  laws  their  governments  may  impose  or  interpose. 

But  how  often  is  the  natural  propensity  to  society  disturbed 


BIGHTS  OF  MAN.  351 

or  destroyed  by  the  operations  ot  government !  When  the 
latter,  instead  of  being  engrafted  on  the  principles  of  the  for- 
mer, assumes  to  exist  for  itself,  and  acts  by  partialities  of  favor 
and  oppression,  it  becomes  the  cause  of  the  mischiefs  it  ought 
to  prevent. 

If  we  look  back  to  the  riots  and  tumults  which  at  various 
times  have  happened  in  England,  we  shall  find,  that  they  did 
not  proceed  from  the  want  of  a  government,  but  that  goveri* 
ment  was  itself  the  generating  cause;  instead  of  consolidating 
society,  it  divided  it;  it  deprived  it  of  its  natural  cohesion,  and 
engendered  discontents  and  disorders,  which  otherwise  would 
not  have  existed.  In  those  associations  which  men  promiscu- 
ously form  for  the  purpose  of  trade,  or  of  any  concern,  in  which 
government  is  totally  out  of  the  question,  and  in  which  they  act 
merely  on  the  principles  of  society,  we  see  how  naturally  the 
various  parties  unite ;  and  this  shows,  by  comparison,  that  gov- 
ernments, so  far  from  being  always  the  cause  or  means  of  order, 
are  often  the  destruction  of  it.  The  riots  of  1780  had  no  other 
source  than  the  remains  of  those  prejudices,  which  the  govern- 
ment itself  had  encouraged.  But  with  respect  to  England  there 
are  also  other  causes. 

Excess  and  inequality  of  taxation,  however  disguised  in  the 
means,  never  fail  to  appear  in  their  effect.  As  a  great  mass  of 
the  community  are  thrown  thereby  into  poverty  and  discontent, 
they  are  constantly  on  the  brink  of  commotion ;  and,  deprived, 
as  they  unfortunately  are,  of  the  means  of  information,  are 
easily  heated  to  outrage.  Whatever- the  apparent  cause  of  any 
riots  may  be,  the  real  one  is  always  want  of  happiness.  It 
shows  that  something  is  wrong  in  the  system  of  government, 
that  injures  the  felicity  by  which  society  is  to  be  preserved. 

But  as  fact  is  superior  to  reasoning,  the  instance  of  America 
presents  itself  to  confirm  these  observations.  If  there  is  a 
country  in  the  world,  where  concord,  according  to  common  cal- 
culation, would  be  least  expected,  it  is  America.  Made  up,  as 
it  is,  of  people  from  different  nations,*  accustomed  to  different 

*  That  part  of  America  which  is  generally  called  New  England,  including 
New  Hampshire,  Massachusetts,  Rhode  Island,  and  Connecticut,  is  peopled 
chiefly  by  English  descendants.  In  the  state  of  New  York  about  half  are 
Dutch,  the  rest  English,  Scotch,  and  Irish.  In  New  Jersey  a  mixture  of 
English  and  Dutch,  with  some  Scotch  and  Irish.  In  Pennsylvania  about 
one-third  are  English,  another  Germans,  and  the  remainder  Scotch  and 
Irish,  with  some  Swedes.  The  states  to  the  southward  have  a  greater  pro- 
portion of  English  than  the  middle  states,  but  in  all  of  them  there  is  a  mix- 
tur«;  and  beaidM  those  enumerated,  there  are  a  considerable  number  of 


352  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

forms  and  habits  of  government,  speaking  different  languages, 
and  more  different  in  their  modes  of  worship,  it  would  appear 
that  the  union  of  such  a  people  was  impracticable;  but  by  the 
simple  operation  of  constructing  government  on  the  principles 
of  society  and  the  rights  of  man,  every  difficulty  retires,  and  all 
the  parts  are  brought  into  cordial  unison.  There  the  poor  are 
not  oppressed,  the  rich  are  not  privileged.  Industry  is  not 
mortified  by  the  splendid  extravagance  of  a  court  rioting  at  its 
expense.  Their  taxes  are  few,  because  their  government  is 
just;  and  as  there  is  nothing  to  render  them  wretched,  there  is 
nothing  to  engender  riots  and  tumults. 

A  metaphysical  man,  like  Mr.  Burke,  would  have  tortured 
his  invention  to  discover  how  such  a  people  could  be  governed. 
He  would  have  supposed  that  some  must  be  managed  by  fraud, 
others  by  force,  and  all  by  some  contrivance;  that  genius  must 
be  hired  to  impose  upon  ignorance,  and  show  and  parade  to  fas- 
cinate the  vulgar.  Lost  in  the  abundance  of  his  researches,  ha 
would  have  resolved  and  re-resolved,  and  finally  overlooked  the 
plain  and  easy  road  that  lay  directly  before  him. 

One  of  the  great  advantages  of  the  American  revolution  ha.:; 
been,  that  it  led  to  a  discovery  of  the  principles,  and  laid  open 
the  imposition  of  governments.  All  the  revolutions  till  then 
had  been  worked  within  the  atmosphere  of  a  court,  and  never 
on  the  great  floor  of  a  nation.  The  parties  were  always  of  the 
class  of  courtiers;  and  whatever  was  their  rage  for  reformation, 
they  carefully  preserved  the  fraud  of  the  profession. 

In  all  cases  they  took  care  to  represent  government  as  a 
thing  made  up  of  mysteries,  which  only  themselves  understood; 
and  they  hid  from  the  understanding  of  the  nation,  the  only 
thing  that  was  beneficial  to  know,  namely,  that  government  is 
nothing  more  titan  a  national  association  acting  on  the  principles 
of  society. 

Having  thus  endeavored  to  show,  that  the  social  and  civilized 
state  of  man  is  capable  of  performing  within  itself,  almost 
everything  necessary  to  its  protection  and  government,  it  will 
be  proper,  on  the  other  hand,  to  take  a  review  of  the  present 
old  governments,  and  examine  whether  their  principles  and 
practice  are  correspondent  thereto. 

French,  and  some  few  of  all  the  European  nations  lying  on  the  coast.  The 
most  numerous  religious  denomination  are  the  Presbyterians ;  but  no  ona 
•act  is  established  above  another,  and  all  men  are  equally  citizens. 


BIGHTS  OF  MAN.  353 


CHAPTER  II. 
ON  THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  PRESENT  OLD  GOVERNMENTS. 

IT  is  impossible  that  such  governments  as  have  hitherto  ex 
isted  in  the  world,  could  have  commenced  by  any  other  meant 
than  a  total  violation  of  every  principle,  sacred  and  moral. 
The  obscurity  in  which  the  origin  of  all  the  present  old  govern 
ments,  is  buried,  implies  the  iniquity  and  disgrace  with  which 
they  began.  The  origin  of  the  present  governments  of  America 
and  France  will  ever  be  remembered,  because  it  is  honorable  to 
record  it;  but  with  respect  to  the  rest,  even  flattery  has  con- 
signed them  to  the  tomb  of  time,  without  an  inscription. 

It  could  have  been  no  difficult  thing  in  the  early  and  solitary 
ages  of  the  world,  while  the  chief  employment  of  men  was  that 
of  attending  flocks  and  herds,  for  a  banditti  of  ruffians  to  over- 
run a  country,  and  lay  it  under  contribution.  Their  power 
being  thus  established,  the  chief  of  the  band  contrived  to  lose 
the  name  of  robber  in  that  of  monarch;  and  hence  the  origin  of 
monarchy  and  kings. 

The  origin  of  the  government  of  England,  so  far  as  it  relates 
to  what  is  called  its  line  of  monarchy,  being  one  of  the  latest, 
is  perhaps  the  best  recorded.  The  hatred  which  the  Norman 
invasion  and  tyranny  begat,  must  have  been  deeply  rooted  in 
the  nation,  to  have  outlived  the  contrivance  to  obliterate  it. 
Though  not  a  courtier  will  talk  of  the  curfew-bell,  not  a  village 
in  England  has  forgotten  it. 

Those  bands  of  robbers  having  parcelled  out  the  world,  and 
divided  it  into  dominions,  began,  as  is  naturally  the  case,  to 
quarrel  with  each  other.  What  at  first  was  obtained  by  vio- 
lence, was  considered  by  others  as  lawful  to  be  taken,  and  a 
second  plunderer  succeeded  the  first.  They  alternately  invaded 
the  dominions  which  each  had  assigned  to  himself,  and  the 
brutality  with  which  they  treated  each  other  explains  the  origi- 
nal character  of  monarchy.  It  was  ruffian  torturing  ruffian. 
The  conqueror  considered  the  conquered  not  as  his  prisoner, 
but  his  property.  He  led  him  in  triumph  rattling  in  chains, 
and  doomed  him,  at  pleasure,  to  slavery  or  death.  As  time 
obliterated  the  history  of  their  beginning,  their  successors  as- 
sumed new  appearances,  to  cut  off  the  entail  of  their  disgrace, 
23 


354  RIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

but  their  principles  and  objects  remained  the  same.  What  at 
first  was  plunder  assumed  the  softer  name  of  revenue;  and  the 
power  they  originally  usurped,  they  affected  to  inherit 

From  such  beginning  of  governments,  what  could  be  ex- 
pected, but  a  continual  system  of  war  and  extortion  ?  It  has 
established  itself  into  a  trade.  The  vice  is  not  peculiar  to  one 
more  than  to  another,  but  is  the  common  principle  of  all. 
There  does  not  exist  within  such  governments  a  stamina  where- 
on to  ingraft  reformation  ;  and  the  shortest  and  most  effectual 
remedy  is  to  begin  anew. 

What  scenes  of  horror,  what  perfection  of  iniquity,  present 
themselves  in  contemplating  the  character,  and  reviewing  the 
history  of  such  governments  !  If  we  would  delineate  human 
nature  with  a  baseness  of  heart,  and  hypocrisy  of  countenance, 
that  reflection  would  shudder  at  and  humanity  disown,  it  is 
kings,  courts,  and  cabinets,  that  must  sit  for  the  portrait.  Man, 
as  he  is  naturally,  with  all  his  faults  about  him,  is  not  up  to  the 
character. 

Can  we  possibly  suppose  that  if  government  had  originated 
in  a  right  principle,  and  had  not  an  interest  in  pursuing  a 
wrong  one,  that  the  world  could  have  been  in  the  wretched  and 
quarrelsome  condition  we  have  seen  it  1  What  inducement  has 
the  farmer,  while  following  the  plow,  to  lay  aside  his  peaceful 
pursuits  and  go  to  war  with  the  farmer  of  another  country  ? 
Or  what  inducement  has  the  manufacturer  ?  What  is  domin- 
ion to  them,  or  to  any  class  of  men  in  a  nation  ?  Does  it  add 
an  acre  to  any  man's  estate,  or  raise  its  value  ?  Are  not  con- 
quest and  defeat  each  of  the  same  price,  and  taxes  the  never- 
failing  consequence  ?  Though  this  reasoning  may  be  good  to  a 
nation,  it  is  not  so  to  a  government.  War  is  the  faro-table  of 
governments,  and  nations  the  dupes  of  the  game. 

If  there  is  anything  to  wonder  at  in  this  miserable  scene  of 
governments,  more  than  might  be  expected,  it  is  the  progress 
which  the  peaceful  arts  of  agriculture,  manufactures,  and  com- 
merce have  made,  beneath  such  a  long  accumulating  load  of 
discouragement  and  oppression.  It  serves  to  show  that  in- 
stinct in  animals  does  not  act  with  stronger  impulse  than  the 
principles  of  society  and  civilization  operate  in  man.  Under 
all  discouragements,  he  pursues  his  object,  and  yields  to  no- 
thing but  impossibilities. 


EIGHTS   OF   MAN.  355 


CHAPTER  IIL 
OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEW  SYSTEMS  OF  GOVERNMENT. 

NOTHING  can  appear  more  contradictory  than  the  principles 
on  which  the  old  governments  began,  and  the  condition  to 
which  society,  civilization,  and  commerce  are  capable  of  carry- 
ing mankind.  Government,  on  the  old  system,  is  an  assump- 
tion of  power,  for  the  aggrandizement  of  itself;  on  the  new,  a 
delegation  of  power  for  the  common  benefit  of  society.  The 
former  supports  itself  by  keeping  up  a  system  of  war;  the 
latter  promotes  a  system  of  peace,  as  the  true  means  of  enrich- 
ing a  nation.  The  one  encourages  national  prejudices;  the 
other  promotes  universal  society  as  the  means  of  universal 
commerce.  The  one  measures  its  prosperity  by  the  quantity 
of  revenue  it  extorts;  the  other  pYoves  its  excellence,  by  the 
small  quantity  of  taxes  it  requires. 

Mr.  Burke  has  talked  of  old  and  new  whigs.  If  he  can 
amuse  himself  with  childish  names  and  distinctions,  I  shall 
not  interrupt  his  pleasure.  It  is  not  to  him,  but  to  the  Abbe 
Sieyes,  that  I  address  this  chapter.  I  am  already  engaged  to 
the  latter  gentleman  to  discuss  the  subject  of  monarchical  gov- 
ernment; and  as  it  naturally  occurs  in  comparing  the  old  and 
new  systems,  I  make  this  the  opportunity  of  presenting  to  him 
my  observations.  I  shall  occasionally  take  Mr.  Burke  in  my 
way. 

Though  it  might  be  proved  that  the  system  of  government 
now  called  the  new,  is  the  most  ancient  in  principle  of  all  that 
have  existed,  being  founded  on  the  original  inherent  rights  of 
man:  yet,  as  tyranny  and  the  sword  have  suspended  the  exer- 
cise of  those  rights  for  many  centuries  past,  it  serves  better  the 
purpose  of  distinction  to  call  it  the  new,  than  to  claim  the  right 
of  calling  it  the  old. 

The  first  general  distinction  between  those  two  systems,  is, 
that  the  one  now  called  the  old  is  hereditary,  either  in  whole 
or  in  part;  and  the  new  is  entirely  representative.  It  rejects 
all  hereditary  government: 

1st,    As  being  an  imposition  on  mankind. 
2nd,  As  inadequate  to  the  purposes  for  which  government  u 
necessary. 


356  RIGHTS    OF   MAN. 

With  respect  to  the  first  of  these  heads — It  cannot  be  proved 
by  what  right  hereditary  government  could  begin:  neither  does 
there  exis*  within  the  compass  of  mortal  power,  a  right  to 
establish  it.  Man  has  no  authority  over  posterity  in  matters 
of  personal  right ;  and,  therefore,  no  man,  or  body  of  men,  had, 
or  can  have,  a  right  to  set  up  hereditary  government.  Were 
even  ourselves  to  come  again  into  existence,  instead  of  being 
succeeded  by  posterity,  we  have  not  now  the  right  of  taking 
from  ourselves  the  rights  which  would  then  be  ours.  On  what 
ground,  then,  do  we  pretend  to  take  them  from  others  ? 

All  hereditary  government  is  in  its  nature  tyranny.  An 
heritable  crown,  or  an  heritable  throne,  or  by  what  other  fanci- 
ful name  such  things  may  be  called,  have  no  other  significant 
explanation  than  that  mankind  are  heritable  property.  To  in- 
herit a  government,  is  to  inherit  the  people,  as  if  they  were 
flocks  and  herds. 

With  respect  to  the  second  head,  that  of  being  inadequate 
to  the  purposes  for  which  tgovernment  is  necessary,  we  have 
only  to  consider  what  government  essentially  is,  and  compare 
it  with  the  circumstances  to  which  hereditary  government  is 
subject. 

Government  ought  to  be  a  thing  always  in  full  maturity.  It 
ought  to  be  so  constructed  as  to  be  superior  to  all  the  accidents 
to  which  individual  man  is  subject;  and,  therefore,  hereditary 
succession,  by  being  subject  to  them  all,  is  the  most  irregular 
and  imperfect  of  all  the  systems  of  government. 

We  have  heard  the  rights  of  man  called  a  levelling  system; 
but  the  only  system  to  which  the  word  levelling  is  truly  applic- 
able, is  the  hereditary  monarchical  system.  It  is  a  system  of 
mental  levelling.  It  indiscriminately  admits  every  species  of 
character  to  the  same  authority.  Vice  and  virtue,  ignorance 
and  wisdom,  in  short,  every  quality,  good  or  bad,  is  put  on  the 
same  level.  Kings  succeed  each  other,  not  as  rationals,  but  as 
animals.  Can  we  then  be  surprised  at  the  abject  state  of  the 
human  mind  in  monarchical  countries,  when  the  government  it- 
self is  formed  on  such  an  abject  levelling  system  ? — It  has  no 
fixed  character.  To-day  it  is  one  thing;  and  to-morrow  it  is 
something  else.  It  changes  with  the  temper  of  every  succeed- 
ing individual,  and  is  subject  to  all  the  varieties  of  each.  It  is 
government  through  the  medium  of  passions  and  accidents.  It 
appears  under  all  the  various  characters  of  childhood,  decrepi- 
tude, dotage,  a  thing  at  nurse,  in  leading  strings,  and  on  crutches. 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  357 

It  reverses  the  wholesome  order  of  nature.  It  occasionally  puts 
children  over  men,  and  the  conceits  of  non-age  over  wisdom 
and  experience.  In  short,  we  cannot  conceive  a  more  ridicul- 
ous figure  of  government,  than  hereditary  succession,  in  all  its 
cases,  presents. 

Could  it  be  made  a  decree  in  nature,  or  an  edict  registered 
in  heaven,  and  man  could  know  it,  that  virtue  and  wisdom 
should  invariably  appertain  to  hereditary  succession,  the  objec- 
tions to  it  would  be  removed;  but  when  we  see  that  nature 
acts  as  if  she  disowned  and  sported  with  the  hereditary  system ; 
that  the  mental  characters  of  successors,  in  all  countries,  are 
below  the  average  of  human  understanding;  that  one  is  a 
tyrant,  another  an  idiot,  a  third  insane,  and  some  all  three 
together,  it  is  impossible  to  attach  confidence  to  it,  when 
reason  in  man  has  power  to  act. 

It  is  not  to  the  Abbe  Sieyes  that  I  need  apply  this  reasoning ; 
he  has  already  saved  me  that  trouble  by  giving  his  own  opinion 
on  the  case.  "If  it  be  asked,"  says  he,  "what  is  my  opinion 
with  respect  to  hereditary  right,  I  answer,  without  hesitation, 
that,  in  good  theory,  an  hereditary  transmission  of  any  power 
or  office,  can  never  accord  with  the  laws  of  true  representation. 
Hereditaryship  is,  in  this  sense,  as  much  an  attaint  upon  prin- 
ciple, as  an  outrage  upon  society.  But  let  us,"  continues  he, 
"  refer  to  the  history  of  all  elective  monarchies  and  principali- 
ties ;  is  there  one  in  which  the  elective  mode  is  not  worse  than 
the  hereditary  succession. 

As  to  debating  on  which  is  the  worst  of  the  two,  it  is  admit- 
ting both  to  be  bad ;  and  herein  we  are  agreed.  The  preference 
which  the  abbe  has  given,  is  a  condemnation  of  the  thing  he 
prefers.  Such  a  mode  of  reasoning  on  such  a  subject  is  inad- 
missible, because  it  finally  amounts  to  an  accusation  of  provi- 
\ence,  as  if  she  had  left  to  man  no  other  choice  with  respect 
to  government,  than  between  two  evils,  the  best  of  which  he 
admits  to  be,  "an  attaint  upon  principle,  and  an  outrag*  upon 
society." 

Passing  over,  for  the  present,  all  the  evils  and  miwhiefs 
which  monarchy  has  occasioned  in  the  world,  nothing  can  more 
effectually  prove  its  uselessness  in  a  state  of  civil  government, 
than  making  it  hereditary.  Would  we  make  any  office  heredi- 
tary that  required  wisdom  and  abilities  to  fill  it?  And  where 
wisdom  and  abilities  are  not  necessary,  such  an  office,  whatever 
it  may  be,  is  superfluous  or  insignificant. 


BIGHTS   OF  MAN. 

Hereditary  succession  is  a  burlesque  upon  monarchy.  It 
puts  it  in  the  most  ridiculous  light,  by  presenting  it  as  an  office 
which  any  child  or  idiot  may  fill.  It  requires  some  talents  to 
be  a  common  mechanic;  but  to  be  a  king,  requires  only  the 
animal  figure  of  a  man — a  sort  of  breathing  automaton.  This 
sort  of  superstition  may  last  a  few  years  more,  but  it  cannot 
long  resist  the  awakened  reason  and  interest  of  man. 

As  to  Mr.  Burke,  he  is  a  stickler  for  monarchy,  not  alto- 
gether as  a  pensioner,  if  he  is  one,  which  I  believe,  but  as  a 
political  man.  He  has  taken  up  a  contemptible  opinion  of 
mankind,  who,  in  their  turn,  are  taking  up  the  same  of  him. 
He  considers  them  as  a  herd  of  beings  that  must  be  governed 
by  fraud,  effigy,  and  show;  and  an  idol  would  be  as  good  a 
6gure  of  monarchy  with  him,  as  a  man.  I  will,  however,  do 
him  the  justice  to  say,  that,  with  respect  to  America,  he  has 
been  very  complimentary.  He  always  contended,  at  least  in 
ray  hearing,  that  the  people  of  America  were  more  enlightened 
than  those  of  England,  or  of  any  country  in  Europe ;  and  that 
therefore  the  imposition  of  show  was  not  necessary  in  their 
governments. 

Though  the  comparison  between  hereditary  and  elective 
monarchy,  which  the  abbe  had  made,  is  unnecessary  to  the 
case,  because  the  representative  system  rejects  both ;  yet  were 
I  to  make  the  comparison,  I  should  decide  contrary  to  what 
he  has  done. 

The  civil  wars  which  have  originated  from  contested  here- 
ditary claims,  are  more  numerous,  and  have  been  more  dread- 
ful, and  of  longer  continuance,  than  those  which  have  been 
occasioned  by  election.  All  the  civil  wars  in  France  arose 
from  the  hereditary  system  ;  they  were  either  produced  by 
hereditary  claims,  or  by  the  imperfection  of  the  hereditary 
form,  which  admits  of  regencies,  or  monarchy  at  nurse.  With 
respect  to  England,  its  history  is  full  of  the  same  misfortunes. 
The  contests  for  succession  between  the  houses  of  York  and 
Lancaster  lasted  a  whole  century ;  and  others  of  a  similar 
nature  have  renewed  themselves  since  that  period.  Those  of 
1715  and  1745  were  of  the  same  kind.  The  succession- war  for 
the  crown  of  Spain  embroiled  almost  half  of  Europe.  The  dis- 
turbances in  Holland  are  generated  from  the  hereditary  ship  of 
the  stadtholder.  A  government  calling  itself  free,  with  an 
hereditary  office,  is  like  a  thorn  in  the  flesh,  that  produces  a 
fermentation  which  endeavors  to  discharge  it. 


RIGHTS    OF    MAX.  359 

But  I  might  go  further,  and  place  also  foreign  wars,  of  what- 
ever kind,  to  the  same  cause.  It  is  by  adding  the  evil  of  here- 
ditary succession  to  that  of  monarchy,  that  a  permanent  family 
interest  is  created,  whose  constant  objects  are  dominion  and 
revenue.  Poland,  though  an  elective  monarchy,  has  had  fewer 
wars  than  those  which  are  hereditary ;  and  it  is  the  only  govern- 
ment that  has  made  a  voluntary  essay,  though  but  a  small  one, 
to  reform  the  condition  of  the  country. 

Having  thus  glanced  at  a  few  of  the  defects  of  the  old,  or 
hereditary  systems  of  government,  let  us  compare  it  with  the 
new  or  representative  system. 

The  representative  system  takes  society  and  civilization  for 
its  basis;  nature,  reason,  and  experience  for  its  guide. 

Experience,  in  all  ages,  and  in  all  countries,  has  demonstrated 
that  it  is  impossible  to  control  nature  in  her  distribution  of 
mental  powers.  She  gives  them  as  she  pleases.  Whatever  is 
the  rule  by  which  she,  apparently  to  us,  scatters  them  among 
mankind,  that  rule  remains  a  secret  to  man.  It  would  be  as 
ridiculous  to  attempt  to  fix  the  hereditaryship  of  human  beauty, 
as  of  wisdom. 

Whatever  wisdom  constituently  is,  it  is  like  a  seedless  plant ; 
it  may  be  reared  when  it  appears ;  but  it  cannot  be  voluntarily 
produced.  There  is  always  a  sufficiency  somewhere  in  the 
general  mass  of  society  for  all  purposes;  but  with  respect  to 
the  parts  of  society,  it  is  continually  changing  its  place.  It 
rises  in  one  to-day,  in  another  to-morrow,  and  has  most  prob- 
ably visited  in  rotation  every  family  of  the  earth,  and  again 
withdrawn. 

As  this  is  the  order  of  nature,  the  order  of  government  must 
necessarily  follow  it,  or  government  will,  as  we  see  it  does, 
degenerate  into  ignorance.  The  hereditary  system,  therefore, 
is  as  repugnant  to  human  wisdom  as  to  human  rights;  and  is 
as  absurd  as  it  is  unjust. 

As  the  republic  of  letters  brings  forward  the  best  literary 
productions,  by  giving  to  genius  a  fair  and  universal  chance; 
so  the  representative  system  of  government  is  calculated  to 
produce  the  wisest  laws,  by  collecting  wisdom  where  it  can  be 
found.  I  smile  to  myself  when  I  contemplate  the  ridiculous 
insignificance  into  which  literature  and  all  the  sciences  would 
sink,  were  they  made  hereditary;  and  I  carry  the  same  idea 
into  governments.  An  hereditary  governor  is  as  inconsistent 
as  an  hereditary  author.  I  know  not  whether  Homer  or 


360  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

Euclid  had  sons;  but  I  will  venture  an  opinion,  that  if  they 
had,  and  had  left  their  works  unfinished,  those  sons  could  not 
have  completed  them. 

Do  we  need  a  stronger  evidence  of  the  absurdity  of  hereditary 
government,  than  is  seen  in  the  descendants  of  those  men,  in 
any  line  of  life,  who  were  once  famous!  Is  there  scarcely  an 
instance  in  which  there  is  not  a  total  reverse  of  the  character? 
It  appears  as  if  the  tide  of  mental  faculties  flowed  as  far  as  it 
could  in  certain  channels,  and  then  forsook  its  course,  and  arose 
in  others.  How  irrational  then  is  the  hereditary  system  which 
establishes  channels  of  power,  in  company  with  which  wisdom 
refuses  to  flow !  By  continuing  this  absurdity,  man  is  in  per- 
petual contradiction  with  himself;  he  accepts,  for  a  king,  or  a 
chief  magistrate,  or  a  legislator,  a  person  whom  he  would  not 
elect  for  a  constable. 

It  appears  to  general  observation,  that  revolutions  create 
genius  and  talents;  but  those  events  do  no  more  than  bring 
them  forward.  There  exists  in  man,  a  mass  of  sense  lying  in  a 
dormant  state,  and  which,  unless  something  excites  it  to  action, 
will  descend  with  him,  in  that  condition,  to  the  grave.  As  it 
is  to  the  advantage  of  society  that  the  whole  of  its  faculties 
should  be  employed,  the  construction  of  government  ought  to 
be  such  as  to  bring  forward,  by  a  quiet  and  regular  operation, 
all  that  extent  of  capacity  which  never  fails  to  appear  in  revo- 
lutions. 

This  cannot  take  place  in  the  insipid  state  of  hereditary  gov- 
ernment, not  only  because  it  prevents,  but  because  it  operates 
to  benumb.  When  the  mind  of  a  nation  is  bowed  down  by  any 
political  superstition  in  its  government,  such  as  hereditary 
succession  is,  it  loses  a  considerable  portion  of  its  powers  on  all 
other  subjects  and  objects.  Hereditary  succession  requires  the 
same  obedience  to  ignorance,  as  to  wisdom ;  and  when  once  the 
mind  can  bring  itself  to  pay  this  indiscriminate  reverence,  it 
descends  below  the  stature  of  mental  manhood.  It  is  fit  to  be 
great  only  in  little  things.  It  acts  a  treachery  upon  itself,  and 
suffocates  the  sensations  that  urge  to  detection. 

Though  the  ancient  governments  present  to  us  a  miserable 
picture  of  the  condition  of  man,  there  is  one  which  above  all 
others  exempts  itself  from  the  general  description.  I  mean  the 
democracy  of  the  Athenians.  We  see  more  to  admire  and  less 
to  condemn,  in  that  great,  extraordinary  people,  than  in  any 
thing  which  history  affords. 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  361 

Mr.  Burke  is  so  little  acquainted  with  constituent  principles 
of  government,  that  he  confounds  democracy  and  representation 
together.  Representation  was  a  thing  unknown  in  the  ancient 
democracies.  In  thdse  the  mass  of  the  people  met  and  enacted 
laws  (grammatically  speaking)  in  the  first  person.  Simple 
democracy  was  no  other  than  the  common  hall  of  the  ancients. 
It  signifies  the  form  as  well  as  the  public  principle  of  the  gov- 
ernment. As  these  democracies  increased  in  population,  and  the 
territory  extended,  the  simple  democratical  form  became  un- 
wiedly  and  impracticable ;  and  as  the  system  of  representation 
was  not  known,  the  consequence  was,  they  either  degenerated 
convulsively  into  monarchies,  or  became  absorbed  into  such  as 
then  existed.  Had  the  system  of  representation  been  then  un- 
derstood, as  it  now  is,  there  is  no  reason  to  believe  that  those 
forms  of  government,  now  called  monarchical  or  aristocratical, 
would  ever  have  taken  place.  It  was  the  want  of  some  method 
to  consolidate  the  parts  of  society,  after  it  became  too  populous, 
and  too  extensive  for  the  simple  democratical  form,  and  also  the 
lax  and  solitary  condition  of  shepherds  and  herdsmen  in  other 
parts  of  the  world,  that  afforded  opportunities  to  those  unnatural 
modes  of  government  to  begin. 

As  it  is  necessary  to  clear  away  the  rubbish  of  errors,  into 
which  the  subject  of  government  has  been  thrown,  I  shall  pro- 
ceed to  remark  on  some  others. 

It  has  always  been  the  political  craft  of  courtiers  and  court 
governments,  to  abuse  something  which  they  called  republican- 
ism ;  but  what  republicanism  was,  or  is,  they  never  attempt  to 
explain.  Let  us  examine  a  little  into  this  case. 

The  only  forms  of  government  are,  the  democratical,  the 
aristocratical,  the  monarchical,  aud  what  is  now  called  the 
representative. 

What  is  called  a  republic,  is  not  any  particular  form  of  gov- 
ernment. It  is  wholly  characteristi cal  of  the  purport,  matter, 
or  object  for  which  government  ought  to  be  instituted,  and  on 
which  it  is  to  be  employed,  res-publica,  the  public  affairs,  or  the 
public  good;  or,  literally  translated,  the  public  thing.  It  is  a 
word  of  a  good  original,  referring  to  what  ought  to  be  the 
character  and  business  of  government;  and  in  this  sense  it  is 
naturally  opposed  to  the  word  monarchy,  which  has  a  base 
original  signification.  It  means  arbitrary  power  in  an  indivi- 
dual person  ;  in  the  exercise  of  which,  himself,  and  not  the  ret 
publica,  is  the  object. 


362  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

Every  government  that  does  not  act  on  the  principle  of  a 
republic,  or,  in  other  words,  that  does  not  make  the  res-publica 
its  whole  and  sole  object,  is  not  a  good  government.  Repub- 
lican government  is  no  other  than  government  established  and 
conducted  for  the  interest  of  the  public,  as  well  individually  as 
collectively.  It  is  not  necessarily  connected  with  any  particular 
form,  Out  it  most  naturally  associates  with  the  representative 
form,  as  being  best  calculated  to  secure  the  end  for  which  a 
nation  is  at  the  expense  of  supporting  it. 

Various  forms  of  government  have  effected  to  style  themselves 
republics.  Poland  calls  itself  a  republic,  but  is  in  fact  an 
hereditary  aristocracy,  with  what  is  called  an  elective  monarchy. 
Holland  calls  itself  a  republic,  which  is  chiefly  aristocratical, 
with  an  hereditary  stadtholdership.  But  the  government  of 
America,  which  is  wholly  on  the  system  of  representation,  is  the 
only  real  republic  in  character  and  practice,  that  now  exists. 
Its  government  has  no  other  object  than  the  public  business  of 
the  nation,  and  therefore  it  is  properly  a  republic ;  and  the 
Americans  have  taken  care 'that  this,  and  no  other,  shall  be  the 
object  of  their  government,  by  their  rejecting  everything  he- 
reditary, and  establishing  government  on  the  system  of  represen- 
tation only. 

Those  who  have  said  that  a  republic  is  not  a,  form  of  govern- 
ment calculated  for  countries  of  great  extent,  mistook,  in  the 
first  place,  the  business  of  a  government,  for  A  form  of  govern- 
ment; for  the  res-publica  equally  appertains  to  every  extent  of 
territory  and  population.  And,  in  the  second  place,  if  they 
meant  anything  with  respect  to  form,  it  was  the  simple  demo- 
cratical  form,  such  as  was  the  mode  of  government  in  the  ancient 
democracies,  in  which  there  was  no  representation.  The  case, 
therefore,  is  not  that  a  republic  cannot  be  extensive,  but  that  it 
cannot  be  extensive  on  the  simple  democratic  form;  and  the 
question  naturally  presents  itself,  What  is  the  best  form  of  gov- 
ernment for  conducting  the  RES-PUBLICA  or  PUBLIC  BUSINESS  of 
a  nation,  after  it  becomes  too  extensive  and  populous  for  the 
simple  democratical  form  ? 

It  cannot  be  monarchy,  because  monarchy  is  subject  to  an 
objection  of  the  same  amount  to  which  the  democratical  form 
was  subject. 

It  is  possible  that  an  individual  may  lay  down  a  system  of 
principles  on  which  government  shall  be  constitutionally  estab- 
lished to  any  extent  of  territory  This  is  no  more  than  an 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN  363 

operation  of  the  mind  acting  by  its  own  powers.  But  the 
practice  upon  those  principles,  as  applying  to  the  various  and 
numerous  circumstances  of  a  nation,  its  agriculture,  manufac- 
tures, trade,  commerce,  «kc.,  require  a  knowledge,  of  a  different 
kind,  and  which  can  be  had  only  from  the  various  parts  of 
society.  It  is  an  assemblage  of  practical  knowledge,  which  no 
one  individual  can  possess  ;  and  therefore  the  monarchical  form 
is  as  much  limited,  in  useful  practice,  from  the  incompetency  of 
knowledge,  as  was  the  democratical  form  from  the  multiplicity 
of  population.  The  one  degenerates,  by  extension,  into  con- 
fusion ;  the  other  into  ignorance  and  incapacity,  of  which  all 
the  great  monarchies  are  an  evidence.  The  monarchical  form, 
therefore,  could  not  be  a  substitute  for  the  democratical, 
because  it  has  equal  inconveniences. 

Much  less  could  it  when  made  hereditary.  This  is  the  most 
effectual  of  all  forms  to  preclude  knowledge.  Neither  could  the 
high  democratical  mind  have  voluntarily  yielded  itself  to  be 
governed  by  children  and  idiots,  and  all  the  motley  insignifiance 
of  character,  which  attends  such  a  mere  animal  system,  the  dis- 
grace and  the  reproach  of  reason  and  of  man. 

As  to  the  aristocratical  form,  it  has  the  same  vices  and  defects 
with  the  monarchical,  except  that  the  chance  of  abilities  is 
better  from  the  proportion  of  numbers,  but  there  is  still  no 
security  for  the  right  use  and  application  of  them.* 

Referring,  then,  to  the  original  simple  democracy,  it  affords 
the  true  data  from  which  government  on  a  large  scale  can  begin. 
It  is  incapable  of  extension,  not  from  its  principle,  but  from  the 
inconvenience  of  its  form  ;  and  monarchy  and  aristocracy  from 
their  incapacity.  Retaining,  then,  democracy  as  the  ground, 
and  rejecting  the  corrupt  systems  of  monarchy  and  aristocracy, 
the  representative  system  naturally  presents  itself  ;  remedying 
at  once  the  defects  of  the  simple  democracy  as  to  form,  and  the 
incapacity  of  the  other  two  with  regard  to  knowledge. 

Simple  democracy  was  society  governing  itself  without  the 
use  of  secondary  means.  By  ingrafting  representation  upon 
democracy,  we  arrive  at  a  system  of  government  capable  of 
embracing  and  confederating  all  the  various  interests  and  every 
extent  of  territory  and  population ;  and  that  also  with  advan- 
tages as  much  superior  to  hereditary  government,  as  the  repub- 
lic of  letters  is  to  hereditary  literature. 

*  For  a  character  of  aristocracy,  the  reader  is  referred  to  "Rights  of  Man.  * 
part  i.  p.  275  tt  scq. 


364  RIGHTS    OF   MAN. 

It  is  on  this  system  that  the  American  government  was 
founded.  It  is  representation  ingrafted  upon  democracy.  It 
has  settled  the  form  by  a  scale  parallel  in  all  cases  to  the  ex- 
tent of  the  principle.  What  Athens  was  in  miniature,  America 
\vill  be  in  magnitude.  The  one  was  the  wonder  of  the  ancient 
world — the  other  is  becoming  the  admiration  and  model  of  the 
present.  It  is  the  easiest  of  all  the  forms  of  government  to  be 
understood,  and  the  most  eligible  in  practice ;  and  excludes  at 
once  the  ignorance  and  insecurity  of  the  hereditary  mode,  and 
the  inconvenience  of  the  simple  democracy. 

It  is  impossible  to  conceive  a  system  of  government  capable 
of  acting  over  such  an  extent  of  territory,  and  such  a  circle  of 
interests,  as  is  produced  by  the  operation  of  representation. 
France,  great  and  populous  as  it  is,  is  but  a  spot  in  the  capac- 
iousness of  the  system.  It  adapts  itself  to  all  possible  cases. 
It  is  preferable  to  simple  democracy  even  in  small  territories. 
Athens,  by  representation,  would  have  surpassed  her  own  de- 
mocracy. 

That  which  is  called  government,  or  rather  that  which  we 
ought  to  conceive  government  to  be,  is  no  more  than  some  com- 
mon centre,  in  which  all  the  parts  of  society  unite.  This  can- 
not be  established  by  any  method  so  conducive  to  the  various 
interests  of  the  community,  as  by  the  representative  system. 
It  concentrates  the  knowledge  necessary  to  the  interests  of  the 
parts,  and  of  the  whole.  It  places  government  in  a  state  of 
constant  maturity.  It  is,  as  has  already  been  observed,  never 
young,  never  old.  It  is  subject  neither  to  nonage  or  dotage. 
It  is  never  in  the  cradle  nor  on  crutches.  It  admits  not  of  a 
separation  between  knowledge  and  power,  and  is  superior,  as  a 
government  ought  always  to  be,  to  all  the  accidents  of  indivi- 
dual man,  and  is  therefore  superior  to  what  is  called  mon- 
archy. 

A  nation  is  not  a  body,  the  figure  of  which  is  to  be  repre- 
sented by  the  human  body;  but  is  like  a  body  contained  within 
a  circle,  having  a  common  centre,  in  which  every  radius  meets : 
and  that  centre  is  formed  by  representation.  To  connect  repre- 
sentation with  what  is  called  monarchy,  is  eccentric  government. 
Representation  is  of  itself  the  delegated  monarchy  of  a  nation, 
and  cannot  debase  itself  by  dividing  it  with  another. 

Mr.  Burke  has  two  or  three  times  in  his  parliamentary 
speeches,  and  in  his  publications,  made  use  of  a  jingle  of  words 
that  conveyed  no  ideas.  Speaking  of  government,  he  says,  "  It 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  365 

is  better  to  have  monarchy  for  its  basis,  and  republicanism  for 
its  corrective,  then  republicanism  for  its  basis,  and  monarchy 
for  its  corrective."  If  he  means  that  it  is  better  to  correct  folly 
with  wisdom,  than  wisdom  with  folly,  I  will  not  otherwise  con- 
tend with  him  than  to  say  it  would  be  much  better  to  reject 
the  folly  altogether. 

But  what  is  this  thing  which  Mr.  Burke  calls  monarchy? 
Will  he  explain  it:  all  mankind  can  understand  what  represen- 
tation is ;  and  that  it  must  necessarily  include  a  variety  of  know- 
ledge and  talents.  But  what  security  is  there  for  the  same 
qualities  on  the  part  of  monarchy?  Or,  when  this  monarchy  is 
a  child,  where  then  is  the  wisdom  ?  What  does  it  know  about 
government  1  Who  then  is  the  monarch  1  or  where  is  the  mon- 
archy ?  If  it  is  to  be  performed  by  regency,  it  proves  to  be  a 
farce.  A  regency  is  a  mock  species  of  republic,  and  the  whole 
of  monarchy  deserves  no  better  appellation.  It  is  a  thing  as 
various  as  imagination  can  paint.  It  has  none  of  the  stable 
character  that  government  ought  to  possess.  Every  succession 
is  a  revolution,  and  every  regency  a  counter-revolution.  The 
whole  of  it  is  a  scene  of  perpetual  court  cabal  and  intrigue,  of 
which  Mr.  Burke  is  himself  an  instance. 

Whether  I  have  too  little  sense  to  see,  or  too  much  to  be  im 
posed  upon :  whether  I  have  too  much  or  too  little  pride,  or  of 
anything  else,  I  leave  out  of  the  question  ;  but  certain  it  is, 
that  what  is  called  monarchy,  always  appears  to  me  a  silly,  con 
temptible  thing.  I  compare  it  to  something  kept  behind  a  cur 
tain,  about  which  there  is  a  great  deal  of  bustle  and  fuss,  and  a 
wonderful  air  of  seeming  solemnity ;  but  when,  by  any  accident, 
the  curtain  happens  to  be  open  and  the  company  see  what  it  is, 
they  burst  into  laughter. 

In  the  representative  system  of  government,  nothing  like  this 
can  happen.  Like  the  nation  itself,  it  possesses  a  perpetual 
stamina,  as  well  of  body  as  of  mind,  and  presents  itself  on  the 
open  theatre  of  the  world  in  a  fair  and  manly  manner.  What- 
ever are  its  excellencies  or  its  defects,  they  are  visible  to  all. 
It  exists  not  by  fraud  and  mystery ;  it  deals  not  in  cant  and 
sophistry;  but  inspires  a  language,  that,  passing  from  heart  to 
heart,  is  felt  and  understood. 

We  must  shut  our  eyes  against  reason,  we  must  basely  de- 
grade our  understanding,  not  to  see  the  folly  of  what  is  called 
monarchy.  Nature  is  orderly  in  all  her  works;  but  this  is  a 
mode  of  government  that  counteracts  nature.  It  turns  the  pro- 


366  RIGHTS   OP  MAN. 

gress  of  the  human  faculties  upside  down.     It  subjects  age  to 
be  governed  by  children,  and  wisdom  by  folly. 

On  the  contrary,  the  representative  system  is  always  parallel 
with  the  order  and  immutable  laws  of  nature,  and  meets  the 
reason  of  man  in  every  part.  For  example: 

In  the  American  federal  government,  more  power  is 'delegated 
to  the  president  of  the  United  States,  than  to  any  other  indivi- 
dual members  of  congress.  He  cannot,  therefore,  be  elected  to 
this  office  under  the  age  of  thirty-five  years.  By  this  time  the 
udgment  of  man  becomes  matured,  and  he  has  lived  long  enough 
to  become  acquainted  with  men  and  things,  and  the  country 
with  him.  But  on  the  monarchical  plan  (exclusive  of  the  num- 
erous chances  there  are  against  every  man  born  in  the  world, 
of  drawing  a  prize  in  the  lottery  of  human  faculties),  the  next 
in  succession,  whatever  he  may  be,  is  put  at  the  head  of  a  na- 
tion, and  of  a  government,  at  the  age  of  eighteen  years.  Does 
this  appear  like  an  act  of  wisdom  1  Is  it  consistent  with  the 
proper  dignity  and  the  manly  character  of  a  nation  1  Where  is 
the  propriety  of  calling  such  a  lad  the  father  of  the  people1? — 
In  all  other  cases,  a  person  is  a  minor  until  the  age  of  twenty- 
one  years.  Before  this  period  he  is  not  trusted  with  the  man- 
agement of  an  acre  of  land,  or  with  the  heritable  property  of  a 
flock  of  sheep,  or  a  herd  of  swine;  but  wonderful  to  tell!  he 
may  at  the  age  of  eighteen  years,  be  trusted  with  a  nation. 

That  monarchy  is  all  a  bubble,  a  mere  court  artifice  to  pro- 
cure money  is  evident  (at  least  to  me)  in  every  character  in 
which  it  can  be  viewed.  It  would  be  almost  impossible,  on  the 
rational  system  of  representative  government,  to  make  out  a  bill 
of  expenses  to  such  an  enormous  amount  as  this  deception  ad- 
mits. Government  is  not  of  itself  a  very  chargeable  institution. 
The  whole  expense  of  the  federal  government  of  America, 
founded,  as  I  have  already  said,  on  the  system  of  representation, 
and  extending  over  a  country  nearly  ten  times  as  large  as  Eng- 
land, is  but  six  hundred  thousand  dollars,  or  one  hundred  and 
thirty  thousand  pounds  sterling. 

I  presume  that  no  man  in  his  sober  senses  will  compare  the 
character  of  any  of  the  kings  of  Europe  with  that  of  general 
Washington.  Yet,  in  France,  and  also  in  England,  the  expense 
of  the  civil  list  only,  for  the  support  of  one  man,  is  eight  times 
greater  then  the  whole  expenes  of  the  federal  government  of 
America.  To  assign  a  reason  for  this  appears  almost  impossi- 
ble. The  generality  of  people  in  America,  especially  the  poor, 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  367 

are  more  able  to  pay  taxes  then  the  generality  of  people  either 
in  France  or  England. 

But  the  case  is,  that  the  representative  system  diffuses  such 
a  body  of  knowledge  throughout  the  nation,  on  the  subject  of 
government,  as  to  explode  ignorance  and  preclude  imposition. 
The  craft  of  courts  cannot  be  acted  on  that  ground.  There  is 
no  place  for  mystery ;  no  where  for  it  to  begin.  Those  who  are 
not  in  the  representation,  know  as  much  of  the  nature  of  busi- 
ness as  those  who  are.  An  affectation  of  mysterious  importance 
would  there  be  scouted.  Nations  can  have  no  secrets;  and  the 
secrets  of  courts,  like  those  of  individuals,  are  always  their 
detects. 

In  the  representative  system,  the  reason  for  everything  must 
publicly  appear.  Every  man  is  a  proprietor  in  government, 
and  considers  it  a  necessary  part  of  his  business  to  understand. 
It  concerns  his  interest  because  it  affects  his  property.  He  ex- 
amines the  cost,  and  compares  it  with  the  advantages ;  and  above 
all,  he  does  not  adopt  the  slavish  custom  of  following  what  in 
other  governments  are  called  leaders. 

It  can  only  be  by  blinding  the  understanding  of  man,  and 
making  him  believe  that  government  is  some  wonderful  mys- 
terious thing,  that  excessive  revenues  are  obtained.  Monarchy 
is  well  calculated  t«  ensure  this  end.  It  is  the  popery  of  gov- 
ernment; a  thing  kept  up  to  amuse  the  ignorant,  and  quiet 
them  into  paying  taxes. 

The  government  of  a  free  country,  properly  speaking,  is  not 
in  the  persons,  but  in  the  laws.  The  enacting  of  those  requires 
no  great  expense;  and  when  they  are  administered,  the  whole 
of  civil  government  is  performed — the  rest  is  aJl  court  contriv- 


CHAPTER  IV. 
ON   CONSTITUTIONS. 

THAT  men  mean  distinct  and  separate  things  when  they  talk 
of  constitutions  and  of  governments,  is  evident;  or,  why  are 
those  terms  distinctly  and  separately  used  ?  A  constitution  is 
not  the  act  of  a  government,  but  of  a  people  constituting  a  gov- 
ernment; and  government  without  a  constitution,  is  power 
without  a  right 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

All  power  exercised  over  a  nation  must  have  some  beginning. 
It  must  be  either  delegated,  or  assumed.  There  are  no  other 
sources.  All  delegated  power  is  trust,  and  all  assumed  power 
is  usurpation.  Time  does  not  alter  the  nature  and  quality  of 
either. 

In  viewing  this  subject,  the  case  and  circumstances  of  America 
present  themselves  as  in  the  beginning  of  a  world ;  and  our  in- 
quiry into  the  origin  of  government  is  shortened,  by  referring 
to  the  facts  that  have  arisen  in  our  day.  We  have  no  occasion 
to  roam  for  information  into  the  obscure  field  of  antiquity,  nor 
hazard  ourselves  upon  conjecture.  We  are  brought  at  once  to 
the  point  of  seeing  government  begin,  as  if  we  had  lived  in  the 
beginning  of  time.  The  real  volume,  not  of  history,  but  of 
facts,  is  directly  before  us,  unmutilated  by  contrivance  or  the 
errors  of  tradition. 

I  will  here  concisely  state  the  commencement  of  the  American 
constitutions;  by  which  the  difference  between  constitutions 
and  governments  will  sufficiently  appear. 

It  may  not  be  improper  to  remind  the  reader,  that  the  United 
States  of  America  consist  of  thirteen  states,  each  of  which 
established  a  government  for  itself,  after  the  declaration  of  in- 
dependence, of  the  fourth  of  July,  1776.  Each  state  acted  in- 
dependently of  the  rest,  in  forming  its  government;  but  the 
same  general  principle  pervades  the  whole.  When  the  several 
state  governments  were  formed,  they  proceeded  to  form  the 
federal  government,  that  acts  over  the  whole  in  all  matters 
which  concern  the  interest  of  the  whole,  or  which  relate  to  the 
intercourse  of  the  several  states  with  each  other,  or  with  foreign 
nations.  I  will  begin  with  giving  an  instance  from  one  of  the 
state  governments  (that  of  Pennsylvania)  and  then  proceed  to 
the  federal  government. 

The  state  of  Pennsylvania,  though  nearly  of  the  same  extent 
of  territory  with  England,  was  then  divided  into  twelve  counties. 
Each  of  those  counties  had  elected  a  committee  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  dispute  with  the  English  government;  and 
as  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  which  also  had  its  committee,  was 
the  most  central  for  intelligence,  it  became  the  centre  of  com- 
munication to  the  several  county  committees.  When  it  became 
necessary  to  proceed  to  the  formation  of  a  government,  the 
committee  of  Philadelphia  proposed  a  conference  of  all  the 
county  committees,  to  be  held  in  that  city,  and  which  met  the 
latter  end  of  July,  1776. 


RIGHTS  OF   MAN.  369 

Though  these  committees  had  been  elected  by  the  people, 
they  were  not  elected  expressly  for  the  purpose,  nor  invested 
with  the  authority  of  forming  a  constitution :  and  as  they  could 
not,  consistently  with  the  American  idea  of  rights,  assume  such 
a  power,  they  could  only  confer  upon  the  matter,  and  put  it  into 
a  train  of  operation.  The  conferees,  therefore,  did  no  more 
than  state  the  case  and  recommend  to  the  several  counties  to 
elect  six  representatives  for  each  county,  to  meet  in  convention 
at  Philadelphia,  with  powers  to  form  a  constitution,  and  pro- 
pose it  for  public  consideration. 

This  convention,  of  which  Benjamin  Franklin  was  president, 
having  met  and  deliberated,  and  agreed  upon  a  constitution, 
they  next  ordered  it  to  be  published,  not  as  a  thing  established, 
but  for  the  consideration  of  the  whole  people, .their  approbation 
or  rejection,  and  then  adjourned  to  a  stated  time.  When  the 
time  of  adjournment  was  expired,  the  convention  re-assembled; 
and  as  the  general  opinion  of  the  people  in  approbation  of  it 
was  then  known,  the  constitution  was  signed,  sealed,  and  pro- 
claimed on  the  authority  of  the  people,  and  the  original  instru- 
ment deposited  as  a  public  record.  The  convention  then  ap- 
pointed a  day  for  the  general  election  of  the  representatives 
who  were  to  compose  the  government,  and  the  time  it  should 
commence;  and  having  done  this,  they  dissolved,  and  returned 
to  their  several  homes  and  occupations. 

In  this  constitution  were  laid  down,  first,  a  declaration  of 
rights.  Then  followed  the  form  which  the  government  should 
have,  and  the  powers  it  should  possess — the  authority  of  courts 
of  judicature  and  of  juries — the  manner  in  which  elections 
should  be  conducted,  and  the  proportion  of  representatives  to 
the  number  of  electors — the  time  which  each  succeeding 
assembly  should  continue,  which  was  one  year — the  mode  of 
levying,  and  of  accounting  for  the  expenditure  of  public  money 
— of  appointing  public  officers,  &c. 

No  article  of  this  constitution  could  be  altered  or  infringed 
at  the  discretion  of  the  government  that  was  to  ensue.  It  was 
to  that  government  a  law.  But  as  it  would  have  been  unwise 
to  preclude  the  benefit  of  experience,  and  in  order  also  to  pre- 
vent the  accumulation  of  errors,  if  any  should  be  found,  and 
to  preserve  an  unison  of  government  with  the  circumstances  of 
the  state  at  all  times,  the  constitution  provided,  that,  at  the 
expiration  of  every  seven  years,  a  convention  should  be  elected, 
for  the  express  purpose  of  revising  the  constitution,  and  making 


370  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

alterations,  additions,  or  abolitions  therein,  if  any  such  should 
be  found  necessary. 

Here  we  see  a  regular  process — a  government  issuing  out  of  a 
constitution,  formed  by  the  people  in  their  original  character; 
and  that  constitution,  serving,  not  only  as  an  authority,  but  as 
a  law  of  control  to  the  government.  It  was  the  political  bible 
of  the  state.  Scarcely  a  family  was  without  it.  Every  mem- 
ber of  the  government  had  a  copy;  and  nothing  was  more  com- 
mon, when  any  debate  arose  on  the  principle  of  a  bill,  or  on 
the  extent  of  any  species  of  authority,  than  for  the  members 
to  take  the  printed  constitution  out  of  their  pocket,  and  read 
the  chapter  with  which  such  matter  in  debate  was  connected. 

Having  thus  given  an  instance  from  one  of  the  states,  I  will 
show  the  proceedings  by  which  the  federal  constitution  of  the 
United  States  arose  and  was  formed. 

Congress,  at  its  two  first  meetings,  in  September,  1774,  and 
May,  1775,  was  nothing  more  than  a  deputation  from  the  legis- 
latures of  the  several  provinces,  afterwards  states;  and  had  no 
other  authority  than  what  arose  from  common  consent,  and  the 
necessity  of  its  acting  as  a  public  body.  In  everything  which 
related  to  the  internal  affairs  of  America,  congress  went  no 
further  than  to  issue  recommendations,  to  the  several  provincial 
assemblies,  who  at  discretion,  adopted  them  or  not.  Nothing 
on  the  part  of  congress  was  compulsive;  yet,  in  this  situation, 
it  was  more  faithfully  and  affectionately  obeyed,  than  was  any 
government  in  Europe.  This  instance,  like  that  of  the  national 
assembly  in  France,  sufficiently  shows,  that  the  strength  of 
government  does  not  consist  in  anything  within  itself,  but  in 
the  attachment  of  a  nation,  and  the  interest  which  the  people 
feel  in  supporting  it.  When  this  is  lost,  government  is  but  a 
child  in  power;  and  though,  like  the  old  government  of  France, 
it  may  harass  individuals  for  a  while,  it  but  facilitates  its  own 
fall. 

After  the  declaration  of  independence,  it  became  consistent 
with  the  principle  on  which  representative  government  is 
founded,  that  the  authority  of  congress  should  be  defined  and 
established.  Whether  that  authority  should  be  more  or  less 
than  congress  then  discretionately  exercised,  was  not  then  the 
question.  It  was  merely  the  rectitude  of  the  measure. 

For  this  purpose  the  act,  called  the  act  of  confederation 
(which  was  a  sort  of  imperfect  federal  institution)  was  proposed, 
and  after  long  deliberation,  was  concluded  in  the  year  1781. 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  371 

It  was  not  the  act  of  congress,  because  it  is  repugnant  to  the 
principles  of  representative  government  that  a  body  should  give 
power  to  itself.  Congress  first  informed  the  several  states  of  the 
powers  which  it  conceived  were  necessary  to  be  invested  in  the 
union,  to  enable  it  to  perform  the  duties  and  services  required 
from  it ;  and  the  states  severally  agreed  with  each  other,  and 
concentrated  in  congress  those  powers. 

It  may  not  be  improper  to  observe,  that  in  both  those  in- 
stances (the  one  of  Pennsylvania,  and  the  other  of  the  United 
States)  there  is  no  such  thing  as  the  idea  of  a  compact  between 
the  people  on  one  side,  and  the  government  on  the  other.  The 
compact  was  that  of  the  people  with  each  other,  to  produce  and 
constitute  a  government.  To  suppose  that  any  government  can 
be  a  party  to  a  compact  with  the  whole  people,  is  to  suppose  it 
to  have  existence  before  it  can  have  a  right  to  exist.  The  only 
instance  in  which  a  compact  can  take  place  between  the  people 
and  those  who  exercise  the  government,  is,  that  the  people 
shall  pay  them,  while  they  choose  to  employ  them. 

Government  is  not  a  trade  which  any  man  or  body  of  men  has 
a  right  to  set  up  and  exercise  for  his  own  emolument,  but  is 
altogether  a  trust,  in  right  of  those  by  whom  that  trust  is  dele- 
gated, and  by  whom  it  is  always  resumable.  It  has  of  itself  no 
rights  ;  that  are  altogether  duties. 

Having  thus  given  two  instances  of  the  original  formation  of 
a  constitution,  I  will  show  the  manner  in  which  both  have  been 
changed  since  their  first  establishment. 

The  powers  vested  in  the  governments  of  the  several  states, 
by  the  state  constitutions,  were  found,  upon  experience,  to  be 
too  great ;  and  those  vested  in  the  federal  government,  by  the 
act  of  confederation,  too  little.  The  defect  was  not  in  the 
principle,  but  in  the  distribution  of  power. 

Numerous  publications,  in  pamphlets  and  in  the  newspapers, 
appeared  on  the  propriety  and  necessity  of  new-modelling  the 
federal  government.  After  some  time  of  public  discussion, 
carried  on  through  the  channel  of  the  press,  and  in  conversa- 
tions, the  state  of  Virginia,  experiencing  some  inconvenience 
with  respect  to  commerce,  proposed  holding  a  continental  con- 
ference; in  consequence  of  which,  a  deputation  from  five  or  six 
of  the  state  assemblies  met  at  Annapolis  in  Maryland,  in  1786. 
This  meeting,  not  conceiving  itself  sufficiently  authorized  to  go 
into  the  business  of  a  reform,  did  no  more  than  state  their 
general  opinions  of  the  propriety  of  the  measure,  and  recom- 


.'*72  RIGHTS   OF  MAN. 

mend  that  a  convention  of  all  the  states  should  be  held  the  year 
following. 

This  convention  met  at  Philadelphia,  in  May,  1787,  of  which 
General  Washington  was  elected  president.  He  was  not  at 
that  time  connected  with  any  of  the  state  governments,  or  with 
congress.  He  delivered  up  his  commission  when  the  war  ended, 
and  since  then  had  lived  a  private  citizen. 

The  convention  went  deeply  into  all  the  subjects ;  and  having, 
after  a  variety  of  debate  and  investigation,  agreed  among 
themselves  upon  the  several  parts  of  a  federal  constitution,  the, 
next  question  was,  the  manner  of  giving  it  authority  and  prac- 
tice. 

For  this  purpose,  they  did  not,  like  a  cabal  of  courtiers,  send 
for  a  Dutch  stadtholder,  or  a  German  elector;  but  they  re- 
ferred the  whole  matter  to  the  sense  and  interest  of  the  country. 

They  first  directed  that  the  proposed  constitution  should  be 
published,  Second,  that  each  state  should  elect  a  convention 
expressly  for  the  purpose  of  taking  it  into  consideration,  and  of 
ratifying  or  rejecting  it;  and  that  as  soon  as  the  approbation 
and  ratification  of  any  nine  states  should  be  given,  those 
states  should  proceed  to  the  election  of  their  proportion  of  mem- 
bers to  the  new  federal  government;  and  that  the  operation  of 
it  should  then  begin,  and  the  former  federal  government  cease. 

The  several  states  proceeded  accordingly  to  elect  their  con- 
ventions; some  of  those  conventions  ratified  the  constitution 
by  very  large  majorities,  and  two  or  three  unanimously.  In 
others  there  were  much  debate  and  division  of  opinion.  In 
the  Massachusetts  convention,  which  met  at  Boston,  the 
majority  was  not  above  nineteen  or  twenty,  in  about  three 
hundred  members;  but  such  is  the  nature  of  representative 
government,  that  it  quietly  decides  all  matters  by  majority. 
After  the  debate  in  the  Massachusetts  convention  was  closed, 
and  the  vote  taken,  the  objecting  members  rose  and  declared, 
"T/iat  though  tJiey  had  argued  and  voted  against  it,  because 
certain  parts  appeared  to  them  in  a  different  light  to  what  they 
appeared  to  other  members;  yet,  as  the  vote  had  been  decided  in 
favor  of  the  constitution  as  proposed,  they  should  give  it  the 
same  practical  support  as  if  tfay  had  voted  for  it." 

As  soon  as  nine  states  had  concurred  (and  the  rest  followed 
in  the  order  their  conventions  were  elected),  the  old  fabric  of 
the  federal  government  was  taken  down,  and  a  new  one  erected, 
of  which  General  Washington  is  president.  In  this  place  I 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  373 

cannot  help  remarking  that  the  character  and  services  of  this 
gentleman  are  sufficient  to  put  all  those  men  called  kings  to 
shame.  While  they  are  receiving  from  the  sweat  and  labors 
of  mankind  a  prodigality  of  pay  to  which  neither  their  abilities 
nor  their  services  can  entitle  them,  he  is  rendering  every  ser- 
vice in  his  power,  and  refusing  every  pecuniary  reward.  He 
accepted  no  pay  as  commander-in-chief ;  he  accepts  none  as 
president  of  the  United  States. 

After  the  new  federal  constitution  was  established,  the  state 
of  Pennsylvania,  conceiving  that  some  parts  of  its  own  consti- 
tution required  to  be  altered,  elected  a  convention  for  that 
purpose.  The  proposed  alterations  were  published,  and  the 
people  concurring  therein,  they  were  established. 

In  forming  those  constitutions,  or  in  altering  them,  little  or 
no  inconvenience  took  place.  The  ordinary  course  of  things 
was  not  interrupted,  and  the  advantages  have  been  much.  It 
is  always  the  interest  of  a  far  greater  number  of  people  in  a 
nation  to  have  things  right,  than  to  let  them  remain  wrong; 
and  when  public  matters  are  open  to  debate,  and  the  public 
judgment  free,  it  will  not  decide  wrong,  unless  it  decides  too 
hastily. 

In  the  two  instances  of  changing  the  constitutions,  the  govern- 
ment then  in  being  were  not  actors  either  way.  Government 
has  no  right  to  make  itself  a  party  in  any  debate  respecting  the 
principles  or  modes  of  forming,  or  of  changing,  constitutions. 
It  is  not  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  exercise  the  powers  of 
government,  that  constitutions,  and  the  governments  issuing 
from  them,  are  established.  In  all  those  matters,  the  right  of 
judging  and  acting  are  in  those  who  pay,  and  not  in  those  who 
receive. 

A  constitution  is  the  property  of  a  nation,  and  nob  of  those 
*rho  exercise  the  government.  All  the  constitutions  of  America 
ire  declared  to  be  established  on  the  authority  of  the  people. 
fn  France,  the  word  nation  is  used  instead  of  the  people ;  but 
in  both  cases,  a  constitution  is  a  thing  antecedent  to  the  govern- 
ment, and  always  distinct  therefrom. 

In  England,  it  is  not  difficult  to  perceive  that  everything  has 
a  constitution,  except  the  nation.  Every  society  and  association 
that  is  established,  first  agreed  upon  a  number  of  original 
articles,  digested  into  form,  which  are  its  constitution.  It 
then  appointed  its  officers,  whose  powers  and  authorities  are 
described  in  that  constitution,  and  the  government  of  that 


374  BIGHTS  OF   MAN. 

society  then  commenced.  Those  officers,  by  whatever  name 
they  are  called,  have  no  authority  to  add  to,  alter,  or  abridge 
the  original  articles.  It  is  only  to  the  constituting  power  that 
this  right  belongs. 

From  the  want  of  understanding  the  difference  between  a 
constitution  and  a  government,  Dr.  Johnson,  and  all  writers  of 
his  description,  have  always  bewildered  themselves.  They 
could  not  but  perceive  that  there  must  necessarily  be  a  control- 
ling power  somewhere,  and  they  placed  this  power  in  the  dis- 
cretion of  the  persons  exercising  the  government,  instead  of 
placing  it  in  a  constitution  formed  by  the  nation.  When  it  is 
in  a  constitution,  it  has  the  nation  for  its  support,  and  the 
natural  and  the  political  controlling  powers  are  together.  The 
laws  which  are  enacted  by  governments,  control  men  only  as 
individuals,  but  the  nation,  through  its  constitution,  controls 
the  whole  government,  and  has  a  natural  ability  so  to  do. 
The  final  controlling  power,  therefore,  and  the  original  consti 
tuting  power,  are  one  and  the  same  power. 

Dr.  Johnson  could  not  have  advanced  such  a  position  in  any 
country  where  there  was  a  constitution;  and  he  is  himself  an 
evidence  that  no  such  thing  as  a  constitution  exists  in  England. 
But  it  may  be  put  as  a  question,  not  improper  to  be  investi- 
gated, that  if  a  constitution  does  not  exist,  how  came  the  idea 
of  its  existence  so  generally  established  ? 

In  order  to  decide  this  question,  it  is  necessary  to  consider  a 
constitution  in  both  its  cases:  1st,  as  creating  a  government 
and  giving  it  its  powers :  2nd,  as  regulating  and  restraining  the 
powers  so  given. 

If  we  begin  with  William  of  Normandy,  we  find  that  the 
government  of  England  was  originally  a  tyranny,  founded  on 
an  invasion  and  conquest  of  the  country.  This  being  admitted, 
it  will  then  appear  that  the  exertion  of  the  nation,  at  different 
periods,  to  abate  that  tyranny,  and  render  it  less  intolerable,  has 
been  credited  for  a  constitution. 

Magna  Charta,  as  it  was  called  (it  is  now  like  an  almanac  of 
the  same  date),  was  no  more  than  compelling  the  government  to 
renounce  a  part  of  its  assumptions.  It  did  not  create  and  give 
powers  to  government  in  the  manner  a  constitution  does;  but 
was,  as  far  as  it  went,  of  the  nature  of  a  re-conquest,  and  not 
of  a  constitution;  for,  could  the  nation  have  totally  expelled 
the  usurpation,  as  France  has  done  its  despotism,  it  would  then 
have  had  a  constitution  to  form 


RIGHTS   OF  MAN.  375 

The  history  of  the  Edwards  and  the  Henries,  and  up  to  the 
commencement  of  the  Stuarts,  exhibits  as  many  instances  of 
tyranny  as  could  be  acted  within  the  limits  to  which  the  nation 
had  restricted  it.  The  Stuarts  endeavored  to  pass  those  limits, 
and  their  fate  is  well  known.  In  all  those  instances  we  see 
nothing  of  a  constitution,  but  only  of  restrictions  on  assumed 
power. 

After  this,  another  William,  descended  from  the  same  stock, 
and  claiming  from  the  same  origin,  gained  possession;  and  of 
the  two  evils,  James  and  William,  the  nation  preferred  what  it 
thought  the  least ;  since,  from  the  circumstances,  it  must  take 
one.  The  act,  called  the  Bill  of  Rights,  comes  here  into  view. 
What  it  it  but  a  bargain,  which  the  parts  of  the  government 
made  with  each  other,  to  divide  power,  profit,  and  privileges  1 
You  shall  have  so  much,  and  I  will  have  the  rest;  and  with 
respect  to  the  nation,  it  said,  for  your  share,  YOU  shall  have  the 
right  of  petitioning.  This  being  the  case,  the  bill  of  rights  is 
more  properly  a  bill  of  wrongs,  and  of  insult.  As  to  what  is 
called  the  convention-parliament,  it  was  a  thing  that  made 
itself,  and  then  made  the  authority  by  which  it  acted.  A  few 
persons  got  together,  and  called  themselves  by  that  name. 
Several  of  them  had  never  been  elected,  and  none  of  them  for 
that  purpose. 

From  the  time  of  William,  a  species  of  government  arose, 
issuing  out  of  this  coalition  bill  of  rights;  and  more  so,  since 
the  corruption  introduced  at  the  Hanover  succession,  by  the 
agency  of  Walpole:  that  can  be  described  by  no  other  name 
ti  i  a  despotic  legislation.  Though  the  parts  may  embarrass 
each  other,  the  whole  has  no  bonnds;  and  the  only  right  it 
acknowledges  out  of  itself,  is  the  right  of  petitioning.  Where 
then  is  the  constitution  that  either  gives  or  restrains  power  1 

It  is  not  because  a  part  of  the  government  is  elective,  that 
makes  it  less  a  despotism,  if  the  persons  so  elected,  possess 
afterwards,  as  a  parliament,  unlimited  powers.  Election,  in 
this  case,  becomes  separated  from  representation,  and  the  can- 
didates are  candidates  for  despotism. 

I  cannot  believe  that  any  nation,  reasoning  on  its  own  rights, 
woVld  have  thought  of  calling  those  things  a  constitution,  if  the 
cry  of  constitution  had  not  been  set  up  by  the  government.  It 
has  got  into  circulation  like  the  words  bore,  and  quiz,  by  being 
chalked  up  in  speeches  of  parliament,  as  those  words  were  on 
window-shutters  and  door  posts;  but  whatever  the  constitution 


376  RIGHTS   OP   MAN. 

may  be  in  other  respects,  it  has  undoubtedly  been  the  most  pro- 
ductive machine  for  taxation  that  was  ever  invented.  The  taxes 
in  France,  under  the  new  constitution,  are  not  quite  thirteen 
shillings  per  head,*  and  the  taxes  in  England,  under  what  is 
called  its  present  constitution,  are  forty-eight  shillings  and 
sixpence  per  head,  men,  women,  and  children,  amounting  to 
nearly  seventeen  millions  sterling,  besides  the  expense  of  col- 
lection, which  is  upwards  of  a  million  more. 

In  a  country  like  England,  where  the  whole  of  the  civil  gov- 
ernment is  executed  by  the  people  of  every  town  and  county, 
by  means  of  parish  officers,  magistrates,  quarterly  sessions, 
juries,  and  assize,  without  any  trouble  to  what  is  called  govern- 
ment, or  any  other  expense  to  the  revenue  than  the  salary  of 
the  judges,  it  is  astonishing  how  such  a  mass  of  taxes  can  be 
employed.  Not  even  the  internal  defence  of  the  country  is 
paid  out  of  the  revenue.  On  all  occasions,  whether  real  or 
contrived,  recourse  is  continually  had  to  new  loans  and  to  new 
taxes.  No  wonder,  then,  that  a  machine  of  government  so 
advantageous  to  the  advocates  of  a  court,  should  be  so  trium- 
phantly extolled !  No  wonder  that  St.  James'  or  St.  Stephen's 
should  echo  with  the  continual  cry  of  constitution !  No  won- 
der that  the  French  revolution  should  be  reprobated,  and  the 
res-publica  treated  with  reproach  !  The  red  book  of  England, 
like  the  red  book  of  France,  will  explain  the  reason.f 

I  will  now,  by  way  of  relaxation,  turn  a  thought  or  two  to 
Mr.  Burke.  I  ask  his  pardon  for  neglecting  him  so  long. 

"  America,"  says  he  (in  a  speech  on  the  Canada  constitution 
bill),  "  never  dreamed  of  such  absurd  doctrine  as  the  '  Rights 
of  Man.'" 

Mr.  Burke  is  such  a  bold  presumer,  and  advances  his  asser- 
tions and  premises  with  such  a  deficiency  of  judgment,  that, 
without  troubling  ourselves  about  principles  of  philosophy  or 

*  The  whole  amount  of  the  assessed  taxes  of  France,  for  the  present  year, 
Is  three  hundred  millions  of  francs,  which  is  twelve  millions  and  a  half  ster- 
ling ;  and  the  incidental  taxes  are  estimated  at  three  millions,  making  in  the 
whole  fifteen  millions  and  a  half ;  which  among  twenty-four  millions  of 
people,  is  not  quite  thirteen  shillings  per  head.  France  has  lessened  her 
taxes  since  the  revolution,  nearly  nine  millions  sterling  annually.  Be/ore 
the  revolution,  the  city  of  Paris  paid  a  duty  of  upwards  of  thirty  per  cent. 
on  all  articles  brought  into  the  city.  This  tax  was  collected  at  the  city 
fates.  It  was  taken  off  on  the  first  of  last  May,  and  the  gates  taken  down. 

t  What  was  called  the  livre  rouge,  or  the  red  book,  in  France,  was  not  ex- 
actly similar  to  the  court  calendar  in  England ;  but  it  sufficiently  showed 
how  a  great  part  of  the  taxes  were  lavished. 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  377 

politics,  the  mere  logical  conclusions  they  produce  are  ridicu- 
lous.     For  instance : 

If  governments,  as  Mr.  Burke  asserts,  are  not  founded  on 
the  rights  of  man,  and  are  founded  on  any  rights  at  all,  they 
consequently  must  be  founded  on  the  rights  of  something  that  is 
not  man.  What,  then,  is  that  something  1  • 

Generf)ly  speaking,  we  know  of  no  other  creatures  that  in- 
habit thp  earth  than  man  and  beast;  and  in  all  cases,  where 
only  two  things  offer  themselves,  and  one  must  be  admitted,  a 
negation  proved  on  any  one,  amounts  to  an  affirmative  on  the 
other :  and  therefore,  Mr.  Burke,  by  proving  against  the  rights 
of  m-an,  proves  in  behalf  of  the  beast;  and  consequently, 
proves  that  government  is  a  beast :  and  as  difficult  things  some- 
times explain  each  other,  we  now  see  the  origin  of  keeping  wild 
beasts  in  the  Tower;  for  they  certainly  can  be  of  no  other  use 
than  to  show  the  origin  of  the  government.  They  are  in  the 
place  of  a  constitution.  O  !  John  Bull,  what  honors  thou  hast 
lost  by  not  being  a  wild  beast.  Thou  mightest,  on  Mr.  Burke's 
system,  have  been  in  the  Tower  for  life. 

If  Mr.  Burke's  arguments  have  not  weight  enough  to  keep 
one  serious,  the  fault  is  less  mine  than  his;  and  as  I  am 
willing  to  make  an  apology  to  the  reader  for  the  liberty  I  have 
taken,  I  hope  Mr.  Burke  will  also  make  his  for  giving  the  cause. 
Having  thus  paid  Mr.  Burke  the  compliment  of  remembering 
him,  I  return  to  the  subject. 

From  the  want  of  a  constitution  in  England,  to  restrain  and 
regulate  the  wild  impulse  of  power,  many  of  the  laws  are  irra- 
tional and  tyrannical,  and  the  administration  of  them  vague 
and  problematical. 

The  attention  of  the  government  of  England  (for  I  rather 
choose  to  call  it  by  this  name,  than  the  English  government) 
appears,  since  its  political  connexion  with  Germany,  to  have 
been  so  completely  engrossed  and  absorbed  by  foreign  affairs, 
and  the  means  of  raising  taxes,  that  it  seems  to  exist  for  no 
other  purposes.  Domestic  concerns  are  neglected;  and,  with 
respect  to  regular  law,  there  is  scarcely  such  a  thing. 

Almost  every  case  must  now  be  determined  by  some  prece- 
dent, be  that  precedent  good  or  bad,  or  whether  it  properly 
applies  or  not;  and  the  practice  has  become  so  general,  as  to 
suggest  a  suspicion  that  it  proceeds  from  a  deeper  policy  than 
at  first  sight  appears. 

Since  the  revolution  of  America,  and  more  so  since  that  of 


378  RIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

France,  this  preaching  up  the  doctrine  of  precedents,  drawn 
from  times  and  circumstances  antecedent  to  those  events,  has 
been  the  studied  practice  of  the  English  government.  The  gener- 
ality of  those  precedents  are  founded  on  principles  and  opinions 
the  reverse  of  what  they  ought  to  be ;  and  the  greater  distance 
of  time  they  are  drawn  from,  the  more  they  are  to  be  suspected. 
But  by  associating  those  precedents  with  a  superstitious  rever- 
ence for  ancient  tilings,  as  monks  show  relics  and  call  them 
holy,  the  generality  of  mankind  are  deceived  into  the  design. 
Governments  now  act  as  if  they  were  afraid  to  awaken  a  single 
reflection  in  man.  They  are  softly  leading  him  to  the  sepulchre 
of  precedents,  to  deaden  his  faculties  and  call  his  attention 
from  the  scene  of  revolutions.  They  feel  that  he  is  arriving  at 
knowledge  faster  than  they  wish,  and  their  policy  of  precedents 
is  the  barometer  of  their  fears.  This  political  popery,  like  the 
ecclesiastical  popery  pf  old,  has  had  its  day,  and  is  hastening  to 
its  exit  The  ragged  relic  and  the  antiquated  precedent,  the 
monk  and  the  monarch  will  moulder  together. 

Government  by  precedent,  without  any  regard  to  the  prin- 
ciple of  the  precedent,  is  one  of  the  vilest  systems  that  can  be 
set  up.  In  numerous  instances,  the  precedent  ought  to  operate 
as  a  warning,  and  not  as  an  example,  and  requires  to  be  shunned 
instead  of  imitated;  but  instead  of  this,  precedents  are  taken  in 
the  lump  and  put  at  once  for  constitution  and  for  law. 

Either  the  doctrine  of  precedent  is  policy  to  keep  a  man  in  a 
state  of  ignorance,  or  it  is  a  practical  confession  that  wisdom 
degenerates  in  governments  as  governments  increase  in  age,  and 
can  only  hobble  along  by  the  stilts  and  crutches  of  precedents. 
How  is  it  that  the  same  persons  who  would  proudly  be  thought 
wiser  than  their  predecessors,  appear  at  the  same  time  only  as  the 
gh'osts  of  departed  wisdom  ?  How  strangely  is  antiquity  treat- 
ed !  To  answer  some  purposes,  it  is  spoken  of  as  the  times  of 
darkness  and  ignorance,  and  to  answer  others  it  is  put  for  the 
light  of  the  world. 

If  the  doctrine  of  precedents  is  to  be  followed,  the  expenses 
of  government  need  not  continue  the  same.  Why  pay  men 
extravagantly  who  have  but  little  to  do  t  If  everything  that 
can  happen  is  already  in  precedent,  legislation  is  at  an  end,  and 
precedent,  like  a  dictionary,  determines  every  case.  Either, 
therefore,  government  has  arrived  at  its  dotage,  and  requires 
to  be  renovated,  or  all  the  occasions  for  exercising  its  wisdom 
have  occurred. 


EIGHTS  OF  MAN.  37  i) 

We  now  see  all  over  Europe,  and  particularly  in  England, 
t^  e  curious  phenomenon  of  a  nation  looking  one  way  and  a  gov- 
ermnent  the  other;  the  one  forward,  and  the  other  backward. 
It  governments  are  to  go  on  by  precedent,  whils  nations  go  on 
by  improvement,  they  must  at  last  come  to  a  final  separation, 
and  the  sooner,  and  the  more  civilly  they  determine  this  point, 
the  better  it  will  be  for  them.* 

Having  thus  spoken  of  constitutions  generally,  as  things  dis- 
tinct from  actual  governments,  let  us  proceed  to  consider  the 
parts  of  which  a  constitution  is  composed. 

Opinions  differ  more  on  this  subject,  than  with  respect  to  the 
whole.  That  a  nation  ought  to  have  a  constitution,  as  a  rule  for 
the  conduct  of  its  government,  is  a  simple  question  in  which  all 
men,  not  directly  courtiers,  will  agree.  It  is  only  on  the  com- 
ponent parts  that  questions  and  opinions  multiply. 

But  this  difficulty,  like  every  other,  wilj  diminish  when  put 
into  a  train  of  being  rightly  understood. 

The  first  thing  is,  that  a  nation  has  a  right  to  establish  a  con- 
stitution. 

Whether  it  exercises  this  right  in  the  most  judicious  manner 
at  first,  is  quite  another  case.  It  exercises  it  agreeably  to  the 
judgment  it  possesses ;  and  by  continuing  to  do  so,  all  errors 
will  at  last  be  exploded. 

When  this  right  is  established  in  a  nation,  there  is  no  fear 
that  it  will  be  employed  to  its  own  injury.  A  nation  can  have 
no  interest  in  being  wrong. 

Though  all  the  constitutions  of  America  are  on  one  general 
principle,  yet  no  two  of  them  are  exactly  alike  in  their  compo- 
nent parts,  or  in  the  distribution  of  the  powers  which  they  give 
to  the  actual  governments.  Some  are  more  and  others  less 
complex. 

In  forming  a  constitution,  it  is  first  necessary  to  consider 
what  are  the  ends  for  which  government  is  necessary :  secondly, 

*  In  England,  the  improvements  in  agriculture,  useful  arts,  manufac- 
tures, and  commerce,  have  been  made  in  opposition  to  the  genius  of  its  gov- 
ernment, which  is  that  of  following  precedents.  It  is  from  the  enterprise 
and  industry  of  the  individuals,  and  their  numerous  associations,  in  which, 
tritely  speaking,  government  is  neither  pillar  nor  bolster,  that  these  im- 
provements have  proceeded.  No  man  thought  about  the  government,  or 
who  was  in,  or  who  was  out,  when  he  was  planning  or  executing  those  things; 
and  all  he  had  to  hope,  with  respect  to  government,  was,  that  it  would  let 
him  alone.  Three  or  four  very  silly  ministerial  newspapers  are  continually 
offending  against  the  spirit  of  national  improvement,  by  ascribing  it  to  a 
minister.  They  may  with  as  much  truth  ascribe  thia  book  to  a  minister. 


380  EIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

what  are  the  best  means,  and  the  least  expensive,  for  accom- 
plishing those  ends. 

Government  is  nothing  more  than  a  national  association ;  and 
the  object  of  this  association  is  the  good  of  all,  as  well  indi- 
vidually as  collectively.  Every  man  wishes  to  pursue  his  occu- 
pation, and  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  his  labors,  and  the  produce  of 
his  property,  in  peace  and  safety,  and  with  the  least  possible 
expense.  When  these  things  are  accomplished,  all  the  objects 
for  which  government  ought  to  be  established  are  answered. 

It  has  been  customary  to  consider  government  under  three 
distinct  general  heads.  The  legislative,  the  executive,  and  the 
judicial 

But  if  we  permit  our  judgment  to  act  unencumbered  by  the 
habit  of  multiplied  terms,  we  can  perceive  no  more  than  two 
divisions  of  power  of  which  civil  government  is  composed, 
namely,  that  of  legislating  or  enacting  laws,  and  that  of  execut- 
ing or  administering  them.  Everything,  therefore,  appertain- 
ing to  civil  government,  classes  itself  under  one  or  other  of  these 
two  divisions. 

So  far  as  regards  the  execution  of  the  laws,  that  which  is 
called  the  judicial  power,  is  strictly  and  properly  the  executive 
power  of  every  country.  It  is  that  power  to  which  every 
individual  has  an  appeal,  and  which  causes  the  laws  to  be  exe- 
cuted; neither  have  we  any  other  clear  idea  with  respect  to 
the  official  execution  of  the  laws.  In  England,  and  also  in 
America  and  France,  this  power  begins  with  the  magistrate, 
and  proceeds  up  through  all  the  courts  of  judicature. 

I  leave  to  courtiers  to  explain  what  is  meant  by  calling 
monarchy  the  executive  power.  It  is  merely  a  name  in  which 
acts  of  government  are  done;  and  any  other,  or  none  at  all, 
would  answer  the  same  purpose.  Laws  have  neither  more  nor 
less  authority  on  this  account.  It  must  be  from  the  justness 
of  their  principles,  and  the  interest  which  a  nation  feels  therein, 
that  they  derive  support;  if  they  require  any  other  than  this, 
it  is  a  sign  that  something  in  the  system  of  government  is 
imperfect  Laws  difficult  to  be  executed  cannot  be  generally 
good. 

With  respect  to  the  organization  of  the  legislative  power, 
different  modes  have  been  adopted  in  different  countries.  In 
America  it  is  generally  composed  of  two  houses.  In  France  it 
consists  of  but  one,  but  in  both  countries,  it  is  wholly  by 
representation. 


EIGHTS   OF  MAN.  381 

The  case  is,  that  mankind  (from  the  long  tyranny  of  assumed 
power)  have  had  so  few  opportunities  of  making  the  necessary 
trials  on  modes  and  principles  of  government,  in  order  to  dis- 
cover the  best,  that  government  is  but  now  beginning  to  be  known, 
and  experience  is  yet  wanting  to  determine  many  particulars. 

The  objections  against  two  houses  are,  first,  that  there  is 
an  inconsistency  in  any  part  of  a  whole  legislature,  coming  to 
a  final  determination  by  vote  on  any  matter,  whilst  that  matter, 
with  respect  to  that  whole,  is  yet  only  in  a  train  of  deliberation, 
and  consequently  open  to  new  illustrations. 

2nd,  That  by  taking  the  vote  on  each  as  a  separate  body,  it 
always  admits  of  the  possibility,  and  is  often  the  case  in  prac- 
tice, that  the  minority  governs  the  majority,  and  that,  in  some 
instances,  to  a  great  degree  of  inconsistency. 

3rd,  That  two  houses  arbitrarily  checking  or  controlling  each 
other,  is  inconsistent;  because  it  cannot  be  proved,  on  the 
principles  of  just  representation,  that  either  should  be  wiser  or 
better  than  the  other.  They  may  check  in  the  wrong  as  well 
as  in  the  right;  and,  therefore,  to  give  the  power  where  we 
cannot  give  the  wisdom  to  use  it,  nor  be  assured  of  its  being 
rightly  used,  renders  the  hazard  at  least  equal  to  the  precau- 
tion.* 

The  objection  against  a  single  house  is,  that  it  is  always  in  a 
condition  of  committing  itself  too  soon.  But  it  should  at  the 
same  time  be  remembered  that  when  there  is  a  constitution 
which  defines  the  power,  and  establishes  the  principles  within 
which  a  legislature  shall  act,  there  is  already  a  more  effectual 
check  provided,  and  more  powerfully  operating,  than  any  other 
check  can  be.  For  example. 

Were  a  bill  to  be  brought  into  any  of  the  American  legis- 

*  With  respect  to  the  two  houses,  of  which  the  English  parliament  is  com. 
posed,  they  appear  to  be  effectually  influenced  into  one,  and,  as  a  legislature 
to  have  no  temper  of  its  own.  The  minister,  whoever  he  at  any  time  may  be 
touches  it  as  with  an  opium  wand,  and  it  sleeps  obedience. 

But  if  we  look  at  the  distinct  abilities  of  the  two  houses,  the  difference  will 
appear  so  great,  as  to  show  the  inconsistency  of  placing  power  where  there 
can  be  no  certainty  of  the  judgment  to  use  it.  Wretched  as  the  state  of 
representation  is  in  England,  it  is  manhood  compared  with  what  is  called  the 
house  of  lords ;  and  so  little  is  this  nick-named  house  regarded,  that  the 
people  scarcely  inquire  at  any  time  what  it  is  doing.  It  appears  also  to  be 
most  under  influence,  and  the  furthest  removed  from  the  general  interest  of 
the  nation.  In  the  debate  on  engaging  in  the  Russian  and  Turkish  war,  the 
majority  in  the  house  of  peers  in  favor  of  it  was  upwards  of  ninety,  when  in 
the  other  house,  which  was  more  than  double  its  numbers,  the  majority  was 
sixty-thraa. 


382  RIGHTS  OF   MAN. 

latures,  similar  to  that  which  was  passed  into  an  act  by  the  Eng- 
lish parliament,  at  the  commencement  of  the  reign  of  George  I., 
to  extend  the  duration  of  the  assemblies  to  a  longer  period  than 
they  now  sit,  the  check  is  in  the  constitution,  which  in  effect 
says,  thus  far  shall  thou  go  and  no  fartJier. 

But  in  order  to  remove  the  objection  against  a  single  house, 
(that  of  acting  with  too  quick  an  impulse)  and  at  the  same  time 
to  avoid  the  inconsistencies,  in  some  cases  absurdities,  arising 
from  the  two  houses,  the  following  method  has  been  proposed 
as  an  improvement  on  both. 

1st,  To  have  but  one  representation. 

2nd,  To  divide  that  representation,  by  lot,  into  two  or  three 
parts. 

3rd,  That  every  proposed  bill  shall  first  be  debated  in  those 
parts,  by  succession,  that  they  may  become  hearers  of  each  other, 
but  without  taking  any  vote.  After  which  the  whole  represen- 
tation to  assemble,  for  a  general  debate  and  determination,  by 
vote. 

To  this  proposed  improvement,  has  been  added  another,  for 
the  purpose  of  keeping  the  representation  in  a  state  of  constant 
renovation;  which  is,  that  one  third  of  the  representation  of 
each  country  shall  go  out  at  the  expiration  of  one  year,  and  the 
number  be  replaced  by  new  elections.  Another  third  at  the 
expiration  of  the  second  year,  replaced  in  like  manner,  and  every 
third  year  to  be  a  general  election.* 

The  proceedings  on  Mr.  Fox's  bill,  respecting  the  rights  of  juries, 
merits  also  to  be  noticed.  The  persons  called  the  peers,  were  not 
the  objects  of  that  bill.  They  are  already  in  possession  of  more  priv- 
iliges  than  that  bill  gave  to  others.  They  are  their  own  jury,  and  if 
any  one  of  that  house  were  prosecuted  for  a  libel,  he  would  not  suf- 
fer, even  upon  conviction,  for  the  first  offence.  Such  inequality  in 
laws  ought  not  to  exist  in  any  country.  The  French  constitution 
says,  that  the  law  is  the  same  to  every  individual,  whether  to  protect  or 
to  punish.  AU  art  equal  in  its  right. 

But  in  whatever  manner  the  separate  parts  of  a  constitution 
may  be  arranged,  there  is  one  general  principle  that  distinguishes 
freedom  from  slavery,  which  is,  that  all  hereditary  government 


*  Aa  to  the  state  of  representation  in  England,  it  is  too  absurd  to  be  reasoned 
upon.  Almost  all  the  represented  parts  are  decreasing  in  population,  and  the 
unrepresented  parts  are  increasing.  A  general  convention  of  the  nation  is 
necessary  to  take  the  whole  state  of  its  government  into  consideration. 


RIGHTS   OF  MAN.  383 

over  a  people  is  to  them  a  species  of  slavery,  and  representative 
government  is  freedom. 

Considering  government  in  the  only  light  in  which  it  should 
be  considered,  that  of  a  NATIONAL  ASSOCIATION,  it  ought  to  be 
so  constructed  as  not  to  be  disordered  by  any  accident  happen- 
ing among  the  parts ;  and  therefore,  no  extraordinary  power, 
capable  of  producing  such  an  effect,  should  be  lodged  in  the  hands 
of  any  individual.  The  death,  sickness,  absence,  or  defection 
of  any  one  individual  in  a  government,  ought  to  be  a  matter  of 
no  more  consequence,  with  respect  to  the  nation,  than  if  the 
same  circumstance  had  taken  place  in  a  member  of  the  English 
parliament,  or  the  French  national  assembly. 

Scarcely  anything  presents  a  more  degrading  character  of 
national  greatness,  than  its  being  thrown  into  confusion  by  any 
thing  happening  to,  or  acted  by  an  individual ;  and  the  ridicul- 
ousness of  the  scene  is  often  increased  by  the  natural  insignifiance 
of  the  person  by  whom  it  is  occasioned.  Were  a  government 
so  constructed,  that  it  could  not  go  on  unless  a  goose  or  a  gander 
were  present  in  the  senate,  the  difficulties  would  be  just  as  great 
and  as  real  on  the  flight  or  sickness  of  the  goose  or  the  gander, 
as  if  they  were  called  a  king.  We  laugh  at  individuals  for  the 
silly  difficulties  they  make  to  themselves,  without  perceiving 
that  the  greatest  of  all  ridiculous  things  are  acted  in  govern- 
ments.* 

All  the  constitutions  of  America  are  on  a  plan  that  excludes 
the  childish  embarrassments  which  occur  in  monarchical  coun- 
tries. No  suspension  of  government  can  there  take  place  for  a 
moment,  from  any  circumstance  whatever.  The  system  of 
representation  provides  for  everything,  and  is  the  only  system 

*  It  is  related,  that  in  the  canton  of  Berne,  in  Switzerland,  it  had  been  cus- 
tomary, from  time  immemorial,  to  keep  a  bear  at  the  public  expense,  and  the 
people  had  been  taught  to  believe,  that  if  they  had  not  a  bear,  they  should  all 
be  undone.  It  happened  some  years  ago,  that  the  bear,  then  in  being,  was 
taken  sick,  and  died  too  suddenly  to  have  his  place  immediately  supplied  with 
another.  During  the  interregnum  the  people  discovered  that  the  corn  grew 
and  the  vintage  nourished,  and  the  sun  and  moon  continued  to  rise  and  set, 
and  everything  went  on  the  same  as  before,  and,  taking  courage  fit>m  these 
circumstances,  they  resolved  not  to  keep  any  more  bears;  for,  said  they,  "a 
bear  is  a  very  voracious,  expensive  animal,  and  we  were  obliged  to  pull  out 
his  claws,  lest  he  should  hurt  the  citizens." 

The  story  of  the  bear  of  Berne  was  related  in  some  of  the  French  newspa- 
pers, at  the  time  of  the  flight  of  Louis  XVI.,  and  the  application  of  it  to  mon- 
archy could  not  be  mistaken  in  France ;  but  it  seems,  that  the  aristocracy  of 
Berne  applied  it  to  themselves,  and  h*v«  kiue*  prohibited  the  reading  of 
Trench  newspapers. 


384  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

in  which  nations  and  governments  can  always  appear  in  their 
proper  character. 

As  extraordinary  power  ought  not  to  be  lodged  in  the  hands 
of  any  individual,  so  ought  there  to  be  no  appropriations  of 
public  money  to  any  person  beyond  what  his  services  in  a  state 
may  be  worth.  It  signifies  not  whether  a  man  be  called  a 
president,  a  king,  an  emperor,  a  senator,  or  by  any  other  name 
which  propriety  or  folly  may  devise,  or  arrogance  assume;  it 
is  only  a  certain  service  he  can  perform  in  the  state;  and  the 
service  of  any  such  individual  in  the  routine  of  office,  whether 
such  office  be  called  monarchical,  presidential,  senatorial,  or  by 
any  other  name  or  title,  can  never  exceed  the  value  of  ten 
thousand  pounds  a-year.  All  the  great  services  that  are  done 
in  the  world  are  performed  by  volunteer  characters,  who  accept 
no  pay  for  them;  but  the  routine  of  office  is  always  regulated 
to  such  a  general  standard  of  abilities  as  to  be  within  the  com- 
pass of  numbers  in  every  country  to  perform,  and  therefore 
cannot  merit  very  extraordinary  recompense.  "Government" 
says  Swift,  "w  a  plain  thing  t  and  fitted  to  the  capacity  of  many 
heads."  • 

It  is  inhuman  to  talk  of  a  million  sterling  a-year,  paid  out 
of  the  public  taxes  of  any  country,  for  the  support  of  any  indi- 
vidual, whilst  thousands,  who  are  forced  to  contribute  thereto, 
are  pining  with  want,  and  struggling  with  misery.  Govern- 
ment does  not  consist  in  a  contrast  between  prisons  and  palaces, 
between  poverty  and  pomp ;  it  is  not  instituted  to  rob  the  needy 
of  his  mite,  and  increase  the  wretchedness  of  the  wretched. — 
But  of  this  part  of  the  subject  I  shall  speak  hereafter,  and  con- 
fine myself  at  present  to  political  observations. 

When  extraordinary  power  and  extraordinary  pay  are  allot- 
ted to  any  individual  in  a  government,  he  becomes  the  centre, 
round  which  every  kind  of  corruption  generates  and  forms. 
Give  to  any  man  a  million  a  year,  and  add  thereto  the  power 
of  creating  and  disposing  of  places,  at  the  expense  of  a  country, 
and  the  liberties  of  that  country  are  no  longer  secure.  What 
is  called  the  splendor  of  a  throne,  is  no  other  than  the  corrup- 
tion of  the  state.  It  is  made  up  of  a  band  of  parasites,  living 
in  luxurious  indolence,  out  of  the  public  taxes. 

When  once  such  a  vicious  system  is  established,  it  becomes 
the  guard  and  protection  of  all  inferior  abuses.  The  man  who 
is  in  the  receipt  of  a  million  a-year  is  the  last  person  to  pro- 
mote a  spirit  of  reform,  lest  in  the  event,  it  should  reach  to 


BIGHTS   OF  MAN.  385 

himself.  It  is  always  his  interest  to  defend  inferior  abuses,  as 
so  many  outworks  to  protect  the  citadel ;  and  in  this  species 
of  political  fortification,  all  the  parts  have  such  a  common 
dependance,  that  it  is  never  to  be  expected  they  will  attack 
each  other.* 

Monarchy  would  not  have  continued  so  many  ages  in  the 
world  had  it  not  been  for  the  abuses  it  protects.  It  is  the 
master  fraud,  which  shelters  all  others.  By  admitting  a  par- 
ticipation of  the  spoil,  it  makes  itself  friends;  and  when  it 
ceases  to  do  this,  it  will  cease  to  be  the  idol  of  courtiers. 

As  the  principle  on  which  constitutions  are  now  formed, 
rejects  all  hereditary  pretensions  to  government,  it  also  rejects 
all  that  catalogue  of  assumptions  known  by  the  name  of  pre- 
rogatives. 

If  there  is  any  government  where  prerogatives  might  with 
apparent  safety,  be  intrusted  to  any  individual,  it  is  in  the 
federal  government  of  America.  The  president  of  the  United 
States  of  America  is  elected  only  for  four  years.  He  is  not 
only  responsible  in  the  general  sense  of  the  word,  but  a  par- 
ticular mode  is  laid  down  in  the  constitution  for  trying  him. 
He  cannot  be  elected  under  thirty-five  years  of  age;  and  he 
must  be  a  native  of  the  country. 

In  a  comparison  of  these  cases  with  the  government  of  Eng- 
land, the  difference  when  applied  to  the  latter  amounts  to  an 

*  It  is  scarcely  possible  to  touch  on  any  subject,  that  will  not  suggest  an 
allusion  to  some  corruption  in  governments.  The  simile  of  "fortification*," 
unfortunately  involves  with  it  a  circumstance,  which  is  directly  in  point 
with  the  matter  above  alluded  to. 

Among  the  numerous  instances  of  abuse  which  have  been  acted  or  pro- 
tected by  governments,  ancient  or  modern,  there  is  not  a  greater  than  that 
of  quartering  a  man  and  his  heirs  upon  the  table,  to  be  maintained  at  its 
expense. 

Humanity  dictates  a  provision  for  the  poor — but  by  what  right,  moral  or 
political,  does  any  government  assume  to  say,  that  the  person  called  the 
Duke  of  Richmond,  shall  be  maintained  by  the  public?  Yet,  if  common 
report  is  true,  not  a  beggar  in  London  can  purchase  his  wretched  pittance 
of  coal,  without  paying  towards  the  civil  list  of  the  Duke  of  Richmond. 
Were  the  whole  produce  of  this  imposition  but  a  shilling  a-year,  the  iniqui- 
tous principle  would  be  still  the  same — but  when  it  amounts,  as  it  is  said  to 
do,  to  not  less  than  twenty  thousand  pounds  per  ann.,  the  enormity  is  too 
serious  to  be  permitted  to  remain. — This  is  one  of  the  effects  of  monarchy 
and  aristocracy. 

In  stating  this  case,  I  am  led  by  no  personal  dislike.  Though  I  think  it 
mean  in  any  man  to  live  upon  the  public ;  the  vice  originates  in  the  gavern- 
ment ;  and  so  general  is  it  become,  that  whether  the  parties  are  in  the 
ministry  or  in  the  opposition,  it  makes  no  difference,  they  are  sure  of  the 
guarantee  of  each  other. 


386  RIGHTS   OF    MAN. 

absurdity.  In  England,  the  person  who  exercises  this  pre- 
rogative is  often  a  foreigner;  always  half  a  foreigner,  and 
always  married  to  a  foreigner.  He  is  never  in  full  natural 
or  political  connexion  with  the  country,  is  not  responsible  for 
anything,  and  becomes  of  age  at  eighteen  year's;  yet  such  a 
person  is  permitted  to  form  foreign  alliances,  without  even  the 
knowledge  of  the  nation ;  and  to  make  war  and  peace  without 
its  consent. 

But  this  is  not  all.  Though  such  a  person  cannot  dispose  of 
the  government,  in  the  manner  of  a  testator,  he  dictates  the 
marriage  connexions,  which,  in  effect,  accomplishes  a  great  part 
of  the  same  end.  He  cannot  directly  bequeath  half  the  govern 
ment  to  Prussia,  but  he  can  form  a  marriage  partnership  that 
will  produce  the  same  effect.  Under  such  circumstances,  it  is 
happy  for  England  that  she  is  not  situated  on  the  continent,  or 
she  might,  like  Holland,  fall  under  the  dictatorship  of  Prussia. 
Holland,  by  marriage,  is  as  effectually  governed  by  Prussia,  as 
if  the  old  tyranny  of  bequeathing  the  government  had  been  the 
means. 

The  presidency  in  America  (or,  as  it  is  sometimes  called,  the 
executive),  is  the  only  office  from  which  a  foreigner  is  excluded; 
and  in  England,  it  is  the  only  one  to  which  he  is  admitted.  A 
foreigner  cannot  be  a  member  of  parliament,  but  he  may  be 
what  is  called  a  king.  If  there  is  any  reason  for  excluding 
foreigners,  it  ought  to  be  from  those  offices  where  most  mis- 
chief can  be  acted,  and  where,  by  uniting  every  bias  of  interest 
and  attachment,  the  trust  is  best  secured. 

But  as  nations  proceed  in  the  great  business  of  forming  con- 
stitutions, they  will  examine  with  more  precision  into  the  na- 
ture and  business  of  that  department  which  is  called  the  execu- 
tive. What  the  legislative  and  judicial  departments  are,  every 
one  can  see;  but  with  respect  to  what,  in  Europe,  is  called  the 
executive,  as  distinct  from  those  two,  it  is  either  a  political 
superfluity,  or  a  chaos  of  unknown  things. 

Some  kind  of  official  department,  to  which  reports  shall  be 
made  from  different  parts  of  the  nation,  or  from  abroad,  to  be 
laid  before  the  national  representatives,  is  all  that  is  necessary ; 
but  there  is  no  consistency  in  calling  this  the  executive ;  neither 
can  it  be  considered  in  any  other  light  than  as  inferior  to  the 
legislature.  The  sovereign  authority  in  any  country  is  the 
power  of  making  laws,  and  everything  else  is  an  official  depart- 
ment. 


BIGHTS   OF   MAN.  3JS? 

Next  to  the  arrangement  of  the  principles  and  the  organiza- 
tion of  the  several  parts  of  a  constitution,  is  the  provision  to  be 
made  for  the  support  of  the  person  to  whom  the  nation  shall 
confide  the  administration  of  the  constitutional  powers. 

A  nation  can  have  no  right  to  the  time  and  services  of  any 
person  at  his  own  expense,  whom  it  may  choose  to  employ  or 
intrust  in  any  department  whatever;  neither  can  any  reason 
be  given  for  making  provision  for  the  support  of  any  one  part 
of  the  government  and  not  for  the  other. 

But,  admitting  that  the  honor  of  being  intrusted  with  any 
part  of  a  government,  is  to  be  considered  a  sufficient  reward,  it 
ought  to  be  so  to  every  person  alike.  If  the  members  of  the 
legislature  of  any  country  are  to  serve  at  their  own  enpense, 
that  which  is  called  the  executive,  whether  monarchical,  or  by 
any  other  name,  ought  to  serve  in  like  manner.  It  is  incon- 
sistent to  pay  the  one,  and  accept  the  service  of  the  other  gratis. 

In  America,  every  department  in  the  government  is  decently 
provided  for;  but  no  one  is  extravagantly  paid.  Every  mem- 
ber of  congress,  and  of  the  state  assemblies,  is  allo  ved  a  suf- 
ficiency for  his  expenses.  Whereas,  in  England,  a  most  prodigal 
provision  is  made  for  the  support  of  one  part  of  the  government, 
and  none  for  the  other ;  the  consequence  of  which  is,  that  the  one 
is  furnished  with  the  means  of  corruption,  and  the  other  is  put 
into  the  condition  of  being  corrupted.  Less  than  a  fourth  part 
of  such  expenses,  applied  as  it  is  in  America,  would  remedy  a 
great  part  of  the  corruption. 

Another  reform  in  the  American  constitutions  is,  the  explod- 
ing all  oaths  of  personality.  The  oath  of  allegiance  is  to  the 
nation  only.  The  putting  any  individual  as  a  figure  for  a 
nation  is  improper.  The  happiness  of  a  nation  is  the  first 
object,  and  therefore  the  intention  of  an  oath  of  allegiance 
ought  not  to  be  obscured  by  being  figuratively  taken,  to,  or  in 
the  name  of,  any  person.  The  oath,  called  the  civic  oath 
in  France,  viz.,  the  "nation,  the  law,  and  the  king"  is  im- 
proper. If  taken  at  all,  it  ought  to  be  as  in  America,  to  the 
nation  only.  The  law  may  or  may  not  be  good;  but,  in  this 
place,  it  can  have  no  other  meaning,  than  as  being  conducive 
to  the  happiness  of  the  nation,  and  therefore  is  included  it  it. 
The  remainder  of  the  path  is  improper,  on  the  ground  that  all 
personal  oaths  ought  to  be  abolished.  They  are  the  remains  of 
tyranny  on  one  part,  and  slavery  on  the  other;  and  the  name 
of  the  Creator  ought  not  to  be  introduced  to  witness  the  degrada- 


388  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

tion  of  his  creation;  or  if  taken,  as  is  already  mentioned,  as 
tigurative  of  the  nation,  it  is  in  this  place  redundant.  But 
whatever  apology  may  be  made  for  oaths  at  the  first  establish- 
ment of  a  government,  they  ought  not  be  permitted  after- 
wards. If  a  government  requires  the  support  of  oaths,  it  is  a 
sign  that  it  is  not  worth  supporting,  and  ought  not  to  be  sup- 
ported. Make  government  what  it  ought  to  be,  and  it  will 
support  itself. 

To  conclude  this  part  of  the  subject.  One  of  the  greatest  im- 
provements that  has  been  made  for  the  perpetual  security  and 
progress  of  constitutional  liberty  is  the  provision  which  the  new 
constitutions  make  for  occasionally  revising,  altering  and  amend- 
ing them. 

The  principle  upon  which  Mr.  Burke  formed  his  political 
creed,  that  "of  binding  and  controlling  posterity  to  the  end  of 
time,  and  renouncing  and  abdicating  tlie  rights  of  all  posterity 
forever"  is  now  become  too  detestible  to  be  made  a  subject  of 
debate;  and,  therefore,  I  pass  it  over  with  no  other  notice  than 
exposing  it. 

Government  is  but  now  beginning  to  be  known.  Hitherto  it 
has  been  the  mere  exercise  of  power,  which  forbade  all  effectual 
inquiry  into  rights,  and  grounded  itself  wholly  on  possession. 
While  the  enemy  of  liberty  was  its  judge,  the  progress  of  its 
principles  must  have  been  small  indeed. 

The  constitutions  of  America,  and  also  that  of  France,  have 
either  fixed  a  period  for  their  revision,  or  laid  down  the  mode 
by  which  improvements  shall  be  made.  It  is  perhaps  impossible 
to  establish  anything  that  combines  principles  with  opinions 
and  practice,  which  the  progress  of  circumstances,  through  a 
length  of  years,  will  not  in  some  measure  derange,  or  render 
inconsistent ;  and,  therefore,  to  prevent  inconveniencies  accumu- 
lating, till  they  discourage  reformations  or  provoke  revolutions, 
it  is  best  to  regulate  them  as  they  occur.  The  rights  of  man 
are  the  rights  of  all  generations  of  men,  and  cannot  be  mon- 
opolized by  any.  That  which  is  worth  following,  will  be  fol- 
lowed for  the  sake  of  its  worth  ;  and  it  is  in  this  that  its  se- 
curity lies,  and  not  in  any  conditions  with  which  it  may  be  in- 
cumbered.  When  a  man  leaves  property  to  his  heirs,  he  does 
not  connect  it  with  an  obligation  that  they  shall  accept  it. 
Why  then  should  we  do  otherwise  with  respect  to  constitutions,  fr 

The  best  constitution  that  could  now  be  devised,  consistent 
with  the  condition  of  the  present  moment,  may  be  far  short  of 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  389 

that  excellence  which  a  few  years  may  afford.  There  is  a  morn- 
ing of  reason  rising  upon  man,  on  the  subject  of  government, 
that  has  not  appeared  before.  As  the  barbarism  of  the  present 
old  governments  expires,  the  moral  condition  of  nations,  with 
respect  to  each  other,  will  be  changed.  Man  will  not  be  brought 
up  with  the  savage  idea  of  considering  his  species  as  enemies, 
because  the  accident  of  birth  gave  the  individuals  existence  in 
countries  distinguished  by  different  names;  and  as  constitutions 
have  always  some  relation  to  external  as  well  as  to  domestic 
circumstances,  the  means  of  benefiting  by  every  change,  foreign 
or  domestic,  should  be  a  part  of  every  constitution. 

We  already  see  an  alteration  in  the  national  disposition  of 
England  and  France  towards  each  other,  which,  when  we  look 
back  only  a  few  years,  is  itself  a  revolution.  Who  could  have 
foreseen,  or  who  would  have  believed,  that  a  French  national 
assembly  would  ever  have  been  a  popular  toast  in  England,  or 
that  a  friendly  alliance  of  the  two  nations  should  become  the 
wish  of  either  ?  It  shows,  that  man,  were  he  not  corrupted  by 
governments,  is  naturally  the  friend  of  man,  and  that  human 
is  not  of  itself  vicious.  That  spirit  of  jealousy  and  ferocity, 
which  the  governments  of  the  two  countries  inspired,  and  which 
they  rendered  subservient  to  the  purpose  of  taxation,  is  now 
yielding  to  the  dictates  of  reason,  interest,  and  humanity.  The 
trade  of  courts  is  beginning  to  be  understood,  and  the  affecta- 
tion of  mystery,  with  all  the  artificial  sorcery  by  which  they 
imposed  upon  mankind,  is  on  the  decline.  It  has  received  its 
death  wound;  and  though  it  may  linger,  it  will  expire. 

Government  ought  to  be  as  much  open  to  improvement  as 
anything  which  appertains  to  man,  instead  of  which  it  has  been 
monopolized  from  age  to  age,  by  the  most  ignorant  and  vicious 
of  the  human  race.  Need  we  any  other  proof  of  their  wretched 
management,  than  the  excess  of  debt  and  taxes  with  which 
every  nation  groans,  and  the  quarrels  into  which  they  have  pre- 
cipitated the  world1? 

Just  emerging  from  such  a  barbarous  condition,  it  is  too  soon 
to  determine  to  what  extent  of  improvement  government  may 
yet  be  carried.  For  what  we  can  foresee,  all  Europe  may  form 
but  dne  grand  republic,  and  man  be  free  of  the  whole. 


.   * 


390  RIGHTS  OF 


CHAPTER  V. 

WAYS    AND   MEANS    OF   IMPROVING  THE  CONDITION  OF 

EUROPE,  INTERSPERSED  WITH  MISCELLANEOUS 

OBSERVATIONS. 

IN  contemplating  a  subject  that  embraces  with  equatorial 
magnitude  the  whole  region  of  humanity,  it  is  impossible  to 
confine  the  pursuit  in  any  one  single  direction.  It  takes  ground 
on  every  character  and  condition  that  appertains  to  man,  and 
blends  the  individual,  the  nation,  and  the  world. 

From  a  small  spark,  kindled  in  America,  a  flame  has  arisen, 
not  to  be  extinguished.  Without  consuming,  like  the  ultimo 
ratio  regum,  it  winds  its  progress  from  nation  to  nation,  and 
conquers  by  a  silent  operation.  Man  finds  himself  changed,  he 
scarcely  perceives  how.  He  acquires  a  knowledge  of  his  rights 
by  attending  justly  to  his  interest,  and  discovers  in  the  event, 
that  the  strength  and  powers  of  despotism  consist  wholly  in 
the  fear  of  resisting  it,  and  that,  in  order  "to  be  free,  it  is  sitf- 
fieient  that  he  wills  it" 

Having  in  all  the  preceding  parts  of  this  work  endeavored  tc 
establish  a  system  of  principles  as  a  basis  on  which  governments 
ought  to  be  erected,  I  shall  proceed  in  this,  to  the  ways  and 
means  of  rendering  them  into  practise.  But  in  order  to  intro- 
duce this  part  of  the  subject  with  more  propriety  and  stronger 
effect,  some  preliminary  observations,  deducible  from,  or  con 
nected  with  those  principles,  are  necessary. 

Whatever  the  form  or  constitution  of  government  may  be,  it 
ought  to  have  no  other  object  than  the  general  happiness. 
When,  instead  of  this,  it  operates  to  create  and  increase 
wretchedness  in  any  of  the  parts  of  society,  it  is  on  a  wrong 
system,  and  reformation  is  necessary. 

Customary  language  has  classed  the  condition  of  man  under 
the  two  descriptions  of  civilized  and  uncivilized  life.  To  the 
one  it  has  ascribed  felicity  and  affluence ;  uo  the  other,  hardship 
and  want.  But,  however  our  imagination  may  be  impressed  by 
painting  and  comparison,  it  is  nevertheless  true,  that  a  great 
portion  of  mankind,  in  what  are  called  civilized  countries,  are 
in  a  state  of  poverty  and  wretchedness,  far  below  the  condition 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  391 

of  an  Indian.  I  speak  not  of  one  country,  but  of  all.  It  is  so 
in  England,  it  is  so  all  over  Europe.  Let  us  inquire  into  the 
cause. 

It  lies  not  in  any  natural  defect  in  the  principles  of  civiliza- 
tion, but  in  preventing  those  principles  having  an  universal 
operation;  the  consequence  of  which  is,  a  perpetual  system  of 
war  and  expense,  that  drains  the  country  and  defeats  the  gen- 
eral felicity  of  which  civilization  is  capable. 

All  the  European  governments  (France  now  excepted),  are 
constructed  not  on  the  principle  of  universal  civilization,  but 
on  the  reverse  of  it.,  So  far  as  those  governments  relate  to 
each  other,  they  are  in  the  same  condition  as  we  conceive  of 
savage  uncivilized  life;  they  put  themselves  beyond  the  law,  as 
well  of  God  as  of  man,  and  are,  with  respect  to  principle  and 
reciprocal  conduct,  like  so  many  individuals  in  a  state  of  nature. 

The  inhabitants  of  every  country,  under  the  civilization  of 
laws,  easily  associate  together;  but  governments  being  in  an 
uncivilized  state,  and  almost  continually  at  war,  they  pervert 
the  abundance  which  civilized  life  produces,  to  carry  on  the 
uncivilized  part  to  a  greater  extent.  By  thus  ingrafting  the 
barbarism  of  government  upon  the  internal  civilization  of  the 
country,  it  draws  from  the  latter,  and  more  especially  from  the 
poor,  a  great  portion  of  those  earnings  which  should  be  applied 
to  their  subsistence  and  comfort.  Apart  from  all  reflections  of 
morality  and  philosophy,  it  is  a  melancholy  fact,  that  more  than 
one-fourth  of  the  labor  of  mankind  is  annually  consumed  by 
this  barbarous  system. 

What  has  served  to  continue  this  evil,  is  the  pecuniary 
advantage,  which  all  the  governments  of  Europe  have  found  in 
keeping  up  this  state  of  uncivilization.  It  affords  to  them  pre- 
tences for  power  and  revenue,  for  which  there  would  be  neither 
occasion  nor  apology,  if  the  circle  of  civilisation  were  rendered 
complete.  Civil  government  alone,  or  the  government  of  laws, 
is  not  productive  of  pretences  for  many  taxes;  it  operates  at 
home,  directly  under  the  eye  of  the  country,  and  precludes  the 
possibility  of  much  imposition.  But  when  the  scene  is  laid  on 
the  uncivilised  contention  of  governments,  the  field  of  pretences 
is  enlarged,  and  the  country,  being  no  longer  a  judge,  is  open  to 
every  imposition  which  governments  please  to  act. 

Not  a  thirtieth,  scarcely  a  fortieth  part  of  the  taxes  which 
are  raised  in  England,  are  either  occasioned  by,  or  applied  to 
the  purposes  of  civil  government  It  is  not  difficult  to  see  that 


392  BIGHTS   OF  MAN. 

the  whole  which  the  actual  government  does  in  this  respect,  is 
to  enact  laws,  and  that  the  country  administers  and  executes 
them,  at  its  own  expense,  by  means  of  magistrates,  juries,  ses- 
sions, and  assize,  over  and  above  the  taxes  which  it  pays. 

In  this  view  of  the  case,  we  have  two  distinct  characters  of 
government;  the  one,  the  civil  government,  or  the  government 
of  laws,  which  operates  at  home ;  the  other,  the  court  or  cabinet 
government,  which  operates  abroad  on  the  rude  plan  of  un- 
civilized life ;  the  one  attended  with  little  charge,  the  other 
with  boundless  extravagance ;  and  so  distinct  are  the  two,  that 
if  the  latter  were  to  sink,  as  it  were  by  a  sudden  opening  of  the 
earth,  and  totally  disappear,  the  former  would  not  be  deranged. 
It  would  still  proceed,  because  it  is  the  common  interest  of  the 
nation  that  it  should,  and  all  the  means  are  in  practice. 

Revolutions,  then,  have  for  their  object,  a  change  in  the 
moral  condition  of  governments,  and  with  this  change  the  bur- 
den of  public  taxes  will  lessen,  and  civilization  will  be  left  to 
the  enjoyment  of  that  abundance,  of  which  it  is  now  deprived. 

In  contemplating  the  whole  of  this  subject,  I  extend  my 
views  into  the  department  of  commerce.  In  all  my  publications, 
where  the  matter  would  admit,  I  have  been  an  advocate  for 
commerce,  because  I  am  a  friend  to  its  effects.  It  is  a  pacific 
system,  operating  to  unite  mankind,  by  rendering  nations,  as 
well  as  individuals,  useful  to  each  other.  As  to  a  mere  theo- 
retical reformation,  I  have  never  preached  it  up.  The  most 
effectual  process  is  that  of  improving  the  condition  of  man  by 
means  of  his  interest;  and  it  is  on  this  ground  that  I  take  my 
stand. 

If  commerce  were  permitted  to  act  to  the  universal  extent  it 
is  .capable  of,  it  would  extirpate  the  system  of  war,  and  produce 
a  revolution  in  the  uncivilised  state  of  governments.  The  inven- 
tion of  commerce  has  arisen  since  those  governments  began,  and 
is  the  greatest  approach  towards  universal  civilization,  that  has 
yet  been  made  by  any  means  not  immediately  flowing  from 
moral  principles. 

Whatever  has  a  tendency  to  promote  the  civil  intercourse  of 
nations,  by  an  exchange  of  benefits,  is  a  subject  as  worthy  of 
philosophy  as  of  politics.  Commerce  is  no  other  than  the  traffic 
of  two  persons,  multiplied  on  a  scale  of  numbers;  and  by  the 
same  rule  that  nature  intended  the  intercourse  of  two,  she  in- 
tended that  of  all.  For  this  purpose  she  has  distributed  the 
materials  of  manufactures  and  commerce,  in  various  and  distant 


BIGHTS   OF   MAN.  393 

parts  of  a  nation  and  of  the  world ;  and  as  they  cannot  be  pro- 
cured by  war  so  cheaply  or  so  comrnodiously  as  by  commerce, 
she  has  rendered  the  latter  the  means  of  extirpating  the  former. 

As  the  two, are  nearly  the  opposites  of  each  other,  conse- 
quently, the  uncivilised  state  of  European  governments  is  in- 
jurious to  commerce.  Every  kind  of  destruction  or  embarrass- 
ment serves  to  lessen  the  quantity,  and  it  matters  but  little  in 
what  part  of  the  commercial  world  the  reduction  begins.  Like 
blood,  it  cannot  be  taken  from  any  of  the  parts,  without  being 
taken  from  the  whole  mass  in  circulation,  and  all  partake  of  the 
loss.  When  the  ability  in  any  nation  to  buy  is  destroyed,  it 
equally  involves  the  seller.  Could  the  government  of  England 
destroy  the  commerce  of  all  other  nations,  she  would  most  effec- 
tually ruin  her  own. 

It  is  possible  that  a  nation  may  be  the  carrier  for  the  world, 
but  she  cannot  be  the  merchant.  She  cannot  be  the  seller  and 
the  buyer  of  her  own  merchandise.  The  ability  to  buy  must 
reside  out  of  herself;  and,  therefore,  the  prosperity  of  any  com- 
mercial nation  is  regulated  by  the  prosperity  of  the  rest.  If 
they  are  poor,  she  cannot  be  rich;  and  her  condition,  be  it 
what  it  may,  is  an  index  of  the  height  of  the  commercial  tide 
in  other  nations. 

That  the  principles  of  commerce,  and  its  universal  operation 
may  be  understood,  without  understanding  the  practice,  is  a 
position  that  reason  will  not  deny;  and  it  is  on  this  ground 
only  that  I  argue  the  subject.  It  is  one  thing  in  the  counting- 
house,  in  the  world  it  is  another.  With  reswect  to  its  opera- 
tion, it  must  necessarily  be  contemplated  as  a  reciprocal  thing, 
that  only  one  half  its  powers  resides  within  the  nation,  and 
that  the  whole  is  as  effectually  destroyed  by  destro^fing  the  half 
that  resides  without,  as  if  the  destruction  had  been  committed 
on  that  which  is  within,  for  neither  can  act  without  the  other. 

When  in  the  last,  as  well  as  in  the  former  wars,  the  com- 
merce of  England  sunk,  it  was  because  the  general  quantity 
was  lessened  everywhere ;  and  it  now  rises  because  commerce  its 
in  a  rising  state  in  every  nation.  If  England,  at  this  day,  im- 
ports and  exports  more  than  at  any  other  period,  the  nation* 
with  which  she  trades  must  necessarily  do  the  same;  her  im- 
ports are  their  exports,  and  vice  versa. 

'  There  can  be  no  such  thing  as  a  nation  nourishing  alone  in 
commerce;  she  can  only  participate;  and  the  destruction  of  it 
in  any  part  must  necessarily  affect  all.  When,  therefore,  gov 


394  RIGHTS   OF  MAN. 

ernments  are  at  war,  the  attack  is  made  upon  the  common  stock 
of  commerce,  and  the  consequence  is  the  same  as  if  each  had 
attacked  his  own. 

The  present  increase  of  commerce  is  not  to  b'e  attributed  to 
ministers,  or  to  any  political  contrivances,  but  to  its  own  natu- 
ral operations  in  consequence  of  peace.  The  regular  markets 
had  been  destroyed,  the  channels  of  trade  broken  up,  and  the 
high  road  of  the  seas  infested  with  robbers  of  every  nation,  and 
the  attention  of  the  world  called  to  other  objects.  Those  inter- 
ruptions have  ceased,  and  peace  has  restored  the  deranged  con- 
dition of  things  to  their  proper  order.  * 

It  is  worth  remarking,  that  every  nation  reckons  the  balance 
of  trade  in  its  own  favor;  and  therefore  something  must  be 
irregular  in  the  common  ideas  upon  this  subject. 

The  fact,  however  is  true,  according  to  what  is  called  a  bal- 
ance; and  it  is  from  this  cause  that  commerce  is  universally 
supported.  Every  nation  feels  the  advantage,  or  it  would 
abandon  the  practice:  but  the  deception  lies  in  the  mode  of 
making  up  the  accounts,  and  attributing  what  are  called  profits 
to  a  wrong  cause. 

Mr.  Pitt  has  sometimes  amused  himself  by  showing  what  he 
called  a  balance  of  trade  from  the  custom-house  books.  This 
mode  of  calculation  not  only  affords  no  rule  that  is  true,  but 
one  that  is  false. 

In  the  first  place,  every  cargo  that  departs  from  the  custom- 
house, appears  on  the  books  as  an  export ;  and  according  to  the 
custom-house  balances,  the  losses  at  sea,  and  by  foreign  failures, 
re  all  reckoned  on  the  side  of  the  profit,  because  they  appear 

exports. 

cond,   Because  the  importation  by  the  smuggling  trade 
not  appear  on  the  custom-house  books,  to  arrange  against 
exports. 

o  balance,  therefore,  as  applying  to  superior  advantages, 

be  drawn  from  these  documents;  and  if  we  examine  the 

ural  operation  of  commerce,  the  idea  is  fallacious;  and  if 

•  In  America  the  increase  of  commerce  is  greater  in  proportion  than  in 
England.  It  is,  at  this  time,  at  least  one  half  more  than  at  any  period  prior 
to  the  revolution.  The  greatest  number  of  vessels  cleared  out  of  the  port  of 
Philadelphia,  before  the  commencement  of  the  war,  was  between  eight  and 
nine  hundred.  In  the  year  17SS,  the  number  was  upwards  of  twelve  hun- 
dred. As  the  state  of  Pennsylvania  is  estimated  as  an  eighth  part  of  the 
United  States  in  population,  the  whole  number  of  vessels  must  now  be 
nearly  ten  thousand. 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  395 

true,  would  soon  be  injurious.  The  great  support  of  commerce 
consists  in  the  balance  being  a  level  of  benefits  among  all  na- 
tions. 

Two  merchants  of  different  nations  trading  together  will  both 
become  rich,  and  each  make  the  balance  in  his  own  favor;  con- 
sequently they  do  not  get  rich  out  of  each  other :  and  it  is  the 
same  with  respect  to  the  nations  in  which  they  reside.  The 
case  must  be,  that  each  nation  must  get  rich  out  of  its  own 
means,  and  increase  that  riches  by  something  which  it  procures 
from  another  in  exchange. 

If  a  merchant  in  England  sends  an  article  of  English  manu- 
facture abroad  which  costs  him  a  shilling  at  home,  and  imports 
something  which  sells  for  two,  he  makes  a  balance  of  one  shill- 
ing in  his  own  favor :  but  this  is  not  gained  out  of  the  foreign 
nation,  or  the  foreign  merchant,  for  he  also  does  the  same  by 
the  article  he  receives,  and  neither  has  a  balance  of  advantage 
upon  the  other.  The  original  value  of  the  two  articles  in  their 
proper  countries  were  but  two  shillings ;  but  by  changing  their 
places  they  acquire  a  new  idea  of  value,  equal  to  double  what 
they  had  at  first,  and  that  increased  value  is  equally  divided. 

There  is  no  otherwise  a  balance  on  foreign  than  on  domestic 
commerce.  The  merchants  of  London  and  Newcastle  trade  on 
the  same  principle,  as  if  they  resided  in  different  nations,  and 
make  their  balances  in  the  same  manner ;  yet  London  does  not 
get  rich  out  of  Newcastle  any  more  than  Newcastle  out  of 
London;  but  coals,  the  merchandize  of  Newcastle,  have  an 
additional  value  at  London,  and  London  merchandize  has  the 
same  at  Newcastle. 

Though  the  principle  of  all  commerce  is  the  same,  the  domes- 
tic, in  a  national  view,  is  the  part  the  most  beneficial ;  because 
the  whole  of  the  advantages,  on  both  sides,  rest  within  the 
nation ;  whereas,  in  foreign  commerce,  it  is  only  a  participation 
of  one  half. 

The  most  unprofitable  of  all  commerce,  is  that  connected 
with  foreign  dominion.  To  a  few  individuals  it  may  be  bene- 
ficial, merely  because  it  is  commerce:  but  to  the  nation  it  is  a 
loss.  The  expense  of  maintaining  dominion  more  than  absorbs 
the  profits  of  any  trade.  It  does  not  increase  the  general  quan- 
tity in  the  world,  but  operates  to  lessen  it;  and  as  a  greater 
mass  would  be  afloat  by  relinquishing  dominion,  the  participa- 
tion without  the  expense  would  be  more  valuable  than  a  greater 
quantity  with  it. 


396  EIGHTS   OF  MAN. 

But  it  is  impossible  to  engross  commerce  by  dominion ;  and 
therefore  it  is  still  more  fallacious.  It  cannot  exist  in  confined 
channels,  and  necessarily  breaks  out  by  regular  or  irregular 
means  that  defeat  the  attempt,  and  to  succeed  would  be  still 
worse.  France,  since  the  revolution,  has  been  more  than  in- 
different as  to  foreign  possessions;  and  other  nations  will  be- 
come the  same  when  they  investigate  the  subject  with  respect 
to  commerce. 

To  the  expense  of  dominion  is  to  be  added  that  of  navies, 
and  when  the  amount  of  the  two  is  subtracted  from  the  protits 
of  commerce,  it  will  appear,  that  what  is  called  the  balance  of 
trade,  even  admitting  it  to  exist,  is  not  enjoyed  by  the  nation, 
but  absorbed  by  the  government. 

The  idea  of  having  navies  for  the  protection  of  commerce  is 
delusive.  It  is  putting  the  means  of  destruction  for  the  means 
of  protection.  Commerce  needs  no  other  protection  than  the 
reciprocal  interest  which  every  nation  feels  in  supporting  it — it 
is  common  stock — it  exists  by  a  balance  of  advantages  to  all; 
and  the  only  interruption  it  meets,  is  from  the  present  uncivil- 
ized state  of  governments,  and  which  is  its  common  interest  to 
reform.* 

Quitting  this  subject,  I  now  proceed  to  other  matters. — As  it 
is  necessary  to  include  England  in  the  prospect  of  a  general 
reformation,  it  is  proper  to  inquire  into  the  defects  of  its  gov- 
ernment. It  is  only  by  each  nation  reforming  its  own,  that  the 
whole  can  be  improved,  and  the  full  benefit  of  reformation  en- 
joyed. Only  partial  advantages  can  flow  from  partial  reforms. 
France  and  England  are  the  only  two  countries  in  Europe 
where  a  reformation  in  government  could  have  successfully 
begun.  The  one  secure  by  the  ocean,  and  the  other  by  the  im- 
mensity of  its  internal  strength,  could  defy  the  malignancy  ol 
foreign  despotism.  But  it  is  with  revolutions  as  with  commerce, 
the  advantages  increase  by  their  becoming  general,  and  double 
to  either  what  each  would  receive  alone. 

As  a  new  system  is  now  opening  to  the  view  of  the  world,  the 
European  courts  are  plotting  to  counteract  it.  Alliances,  con- 
trary to  all  former  systems,  are  agitating,  and  a  common  inter- 

*  WTien  I  saw  Mr.  Pitt's  mode  of  estimating  the  balance  of  trade,  in  one 
of  his  parliamentary  speeches,  he  appeared  to  me  to  know  nothing  of  the 
nature  and  interests  of  commerce ;  and  no  man  has  more  wantonly  tortured 
it  than  himself.  During  a  period  of  peace,  it  has  been  shackled  with  the 
calamities  of  war.  Three  times  has  it  been  thrown  into  stagnation,  and  the 
vessels  unmanned  by  impressing,  within  less  than  four  years  of  peace. 


RIGHTS  OF  MAN.  397 

est  of  courts  is  forming  against  the  common  interest  of  man. 
The  combination  draws  a  line  that  runs  throughout  Europe, 
and  presents  a  case  so  entirely  new,  as  to  exclude  all  calcula- 
tions from  former  circumstances.  While  despotism  warred  with 
despotism,  man  had  no  interest  in  the  contest;  but  in  a  cause 
that  unites  the  soldier  with  the  citizen,  and  nation  with  nation, 
the  despotism  of  courts,  though  it  feels  the  danger  and  meditates 
revenge,  is  afraid  to  strike. 

No  question  has  arisen  within  the  records  of  history  that 
pressed  with  the  importance  of  the  present.  It  is  not  whether 
this  or  that  party  shall  be  in  or  out,  or  whig  or  tory,  or  high  or 
low  shall  prevail;  but  whether  man  shall  inherit  his  rights,  and 
universal  civilization  take  place  1 — Whether  the  fruits  of  his 
labor  shall  be  enjoyed  by  himself,  or  consumed  by  the  profli- 
gacy of  governments  1— Whether  robbery  shall  be  banished 
from  courts,  and  wretchedness  from  countries  ? 

When,  in  countries  that  are  called  civilized,  we  see  age  going 
to  the  work-house  and  youth  to  the  gallows,  something  must  be 
wrong  in  the  system  of  government.  It  would  seem,  by  the 
exterior  appearance  of  such  countries,  that  all  was  happiness ; 
but  there  lies  hidden  from  the  eye  of  common  observation,  a 
mass  of  wretchedness  that  has  scarcely  any  other  chance  than  to 
expire  in  poverty  or  infamy.  Its  entrance  into  life  is  marked 
with  the  presage  of  its  fate;  and  until  this  is  remedied  it  is  in 
vain  to  punish. 

Civil  government  does  not  exist  by  executions;  but  in  mak- 
ing that  provision  for  the  instruction  of  youth,  and  the  support 
of  age,  as  to  exclude,  as  much  as  possible,  profligacy  from  the 
one,  and  despair  from  the  other.  Instead  of  this,  the  resources 
of  a  country  are  lavished  upon  kings,  upon  courts,  upon  hire- 
lings, imposters  and  prostitutes;  and  even  the  poor  themselves, 
with  all  their  wants  upon  them,  are  compelled  to  support  the 
fraud  that  oppresses  them. 

Why  is  it  that  scarcely  any  are  executed  but  the  poor  ?  The 
fact  is  a  proof,  among  other  things,  of  a  wretchedness  in  their 
condition  Bred  up  without  morals,  and  cast  upon  the  world 
without  a  prospect,  they  are  the  exposed  sacrifice  of  vice  and 
legal  barbarity.  The  millions  that  are  superfluously  wasted  upon 
governments  are  more  than  sufficient  to  reform  those  evils,  and 
to  benefit  the  condition  of  every  man  in  a  nation,  not  included 
in  the  purlieus  of  a  court.  This  I  hope  to  make  appear  in  the 
progress  of  this  work. 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

It  is  the  nature  of  compassion  to  associate  with  misfortune. 
In  taking  up  this  subject,  I  seek  no  recompense — I  fear  no  con- 
sequences. Fortified  with  that  proud  integrity,  that  disdain;- 
to  triumph  or  to  yield,  I  will  advocate  the  rights  of  man. 

At  an  early  period,  little  more  than  sixteen  years  of  age, 
raw  and  adventurous,  and  heated  with  the  false  heroism  of  a 
master*  who  had  served  in  a  man  of  war,  I  began  the  carver 
of  my  own  fortune,  and  entered  on  board  the  privateer  Te.r 
rible,  captain  Death.  From  this  adventure  I  was  happily  pre 
vented  by  the  affectionate  and  moral  remonstrance  of  a  good 
father,  who,  from  his  own  habits  of  life,  being  of  the  Quake) 
profession,  must  have  begun  to  look  upon  me  as  lost.  But  thr 
impression,  much  as  it  effected  at  the  time,  began  to  wear  away . 
and  I  entered  afterwards  in  the  privateer,  King  of  Prussia. 
captain  Mendez,  and  went  in  her  to  sea.  Yet  from  such  n 
beginning,  and  with  all  the  inconveniences  of  early  life  against 
me,  I  am  proud  to  say,  that  with  a  perseverance  undismayed 
by  difficulties,  a  disinterestedness  that  compels  respect,  I  have 
not  only  contributed  to  raise  a  new  empire  in  the  world, 
founded  on  a  new  system  of  government,  but  I  have  arrived 
at  an  eminence  in  political  literature,  the  most  difficult  of  all 
lines  to  succeed  and  excel  in,  which  aristocracy,  with  all  its 
aids,  has  not  been  able  to  reach  or  to  rival. 

Knowing  my  own  heart,  and  feeling  myself,  as  I  now  do, 
superior  to  all  the  skirmish  of  party,  the  inveteracy  of  interested 
or  mistaken  opponents,  I  answer  not  to  falsehood  or  abuse,  but 
proceed  to  the  defects  of  the  English  Government.! 

•  Rev.  William  Knowles,  master  of  the  grammar  school  at  Thetford, 
Norfolk. 

t  Politics  and  self-interest  have  been  so  uniformly  connected,  that  the 
world,  from  being  so  often  deceived,  has  a  right  to  be  suspicious  of  public 
characters  ;  but  with  regard  to  myself,  I  am  perfectly  easy  on  this  head.  I 
did  not,  at  my  first  setting  out  in  public  life  nearly  seventeen  years  ago. 
turn  my  thoughts  to  subjects  of  government  from  motives  of  interest — and 
my  conduct  from  that  moment  to  this,  proves  the  fact.  I  saw  an  oppor- 
tunity in  which  I  thought  I  could  do  some  good,  and  I  followed  exactly 
what  my  heart  dictated.  I  neither  read  books,  nor  studied  other  peopleV 
9pinions.  I  thought  for  myself.  The  case  was  this  : 

During  the  suspension  of  the  old  governments  in  America,  both  before 
and  at  the  breaking  out  of  hostilities,  I  was  struck  with  the  order  and  de- 
corum with  wbich  everything  was  conducted ;  and  impressed  with  the  idea 
that  a  little  more  than  what  society  naturally  performed  was  all  the  govern- 
ment that  was  necessary,  and  that  monarchy  and  aristocracy  were  frauds 
and  impositions  upon  mankind.1  On  these  principles  I  published  the  pamph- 
let "Common  Senee."  The  success  it  met  with  was  beyond  anything  since 
'.he  inv«ntion  of  printing  I  trave  to  every  state  in  the  union . 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

[  begin  with  charters  and  corporations. 

It  is  a  perversion  of  terms  to  say  that  a  charter  gives  rights. 
It  operates  by  a  contrary  effect,  that  of  taking  rights  away. 

and  the  demand  ran  to  not  less  than  one  hundred  thousand  copies.  I  con- 
tinued the  subject  in  the  same  manner,  under  the  title  of  "The  Crisis,"  till 
the  complete  establishment  of  the  revolution. 

After  the  declaration  of  independence,  congress,  unanimously  and  un- 
known to  me,  appointed  me  secretary  in  the  foreign  department.  This  was 
agreeable  to  me,  because  it  gave  me  an  opportunity  of  seeing  into  the 
abilities  of  foreign  courts,  and  their  manner  of  doing  business.  But  a  mis- 
understanding arising  between  congress  and  me,  respecting  one  of  their 
commissioners,  then  in  Europe,  Mr.  Silas  Deane,  I  resigned  the  office. 

When  the  war  ended,  I  went  from  Philadelphia  to  Bordentown,  on  the 
east  bank  of  the  Delaware,  where  I  have  a  small  place.  Congress  was  at 
this  time  at  Princeton,  fifteen  miles  distant;  and  General  Washington's 
head-quarters  were  at  Rocky-Hill,  within  the  neighborhood  of  congress,  for 
the  purpose  of  resigning  his  commission  (the  object  for  which  he  accepted  it 
being  accomplished)  and  of  retiring  to  private  life.  While  he  was  on  this 
business,  he  wrote  me  the  letter  which  I  here  subjoin. 

ROCKY  HILL,  Sept.  10, 1783. 

I  have  learned  since  I  have  been  at  this  place,  that  you  are  at  Borden- 
town. Whether  for  the  sake  of  retirement  or  economy,  I  know  not.  Be  it 
for  either,  for  both,  or  whatever  it  may,  if  you  will  come  to  this  place  and 
partake  with  me,  I  shall  be  exceedingly  happy  to  see  you. 

Your  presence  may  remind  congress  of  your  past  services  to  this  country, 
and  if  it  is  in  my  power  to  impress  them,  command  my  best  exertions  with 
freedom,  as  they  will  be  rendered  cheerfully  by  one  who  entertains  a  lively 
sense  of  the  importance  of  your  works,  and  who,  with  much  pleasure,  sub- 
scribes himself, 

Your  sincere  friend, 

G.  WASHINGTON. 

During  the  war,  in  the  latter  end  of  the  year  1780,  I  formed  to  myself  the 
design  of  coming  over  to  England,  and  communicated  it  to  General  Greene, 
who  was  then  in  Philadelphia,  on  his  route  to  the  southward.  General 
Washington  being  then  at  too  great  a  distance  to  communicate  with  imme- 
diately. I  was  strongly  impressed  with  the  idea  that  if  I  could  get  over  to 
England,  without  being  known,  and  only  remain  in  safety  till  I  could  get 
out  a  publication,  I  could  open  the  eyes  of  the  country  with  respect  to  the 
madness  and  stupidity  of  its  government.  I  saw  that  the  parties  in  parlia- 
ment had  pitted  themselves  as  far  as  they  could  go,  and  could  make  no  new 
impressions  on  each  other.  General  Greene  entered  fully  into  my  views, 
but  the  affair  of  Arnold  and  Andre  happening  just  after,  he  changed  his 
mind,  and,  under  strong  apprehensions  for  my  safety,  wrote  to  me  very 
pressingly  from  Annapolis,  in  Maryland,  to  give  up  the  design,  which,  with 
some  reluctance,  I  did.  Soon  after  this  I  accompanied  Colonel  Laurena 
(son  of  Mr.  Laurens,  who  was  then  in  the  Tower)  to  France,  on  business 
from  congress.  We  landed  at  1'Orient,  and  while  I  remained  there,  he  be- 
ing gone  forward,  a  circumstance  occurred  that  renewed  my  former  design. 
An  English  packet  from  Falmouth  to  New  York,  with  government  de- 
spatches on  board,  was  brought  into  1'Orient.  That  a  packet  should  be 
taken,  is  no  very  extraordinary  thing ;  but  that  the  despatches  should  be 
taken  with  it  will  scarcely  be  credited,  as  tkey  are  always  slung  at  the 


400  RIGHTS  OF  MAN. 

Rights  are  inherently  in  all  the  inhabitants ;  but  charters,  by 
annulling  those  rights  in  the  majority,  leave  the  right,  by  ex- 
clusion, in  the  hands  of  a  few.  If  charters  were  constructed 
so  as  to  express  in  direct  terms,  "  that  every  inhabitant,  who  is 
not  a  member  of  a  corporation,  shall  not  exercise  the  right  oj 
voting"  such  charters  would  in  the  face  be  charters,  not  of 
rights,  but  of  exclusion.  The  effect  is  the  same  under  the 
form  they  now  stand;  and  the  only  persons  on  whom  they 
operate  are  the  persons  whom  they  exclude.  Those  whose 
rights  are  guaranteed,  by  not  being  taken  away,  exercise  no 
other  rights  than  as  members  of  the  community  they  are  en- 
titled to  without  a  charter;  and  therefore,  all  charters  have 
no  other  than  an  indirect  negative  operation.  They  do  not 
give  rights  to  A,  but  they  make  a  difference  in  favor  of  A,  by 
taking  away  the  rights  of  B,  and  consequently  are  instruments 
of  injustice. 

But  charters  and  corporations  have  a  more  extensive  evil  ef 
feet  than  what  relates  merely  to  elections.  They  are  sources 
of  endless  contention  in  the  places  where  they  exist;  and  they 
lessen  the  common  rights  of  national  society.  A  native  of  Eng- 
land, under  the  operations  of  these  charters  and  corporations- 
cannot  be  said  to  be  an  Englishman  in  the  full  sense  of  the  word, 
He  is  not  free  of  the  nation,  in  the  same  manner  that  a  French, 
man  is  free  of  France,  and  an  American  of  America.  His  rights 
are  circumscribed  to  the  town,  and,  in  some  cases,  to  the  parish 
of  his  birth ;  and  in  all  other  parts,  though  in  his  native  land, 
he  must  undergo  a  local  naturalization  by  purchase,  or  he  is  for- 
bidden or  expelled  the  place.  This  species  of  feudality  is  kept 

cabin  window,  in  a  bag  loaded  with  cannon  ball,  and  ready  to  be  sunk  in  a 
moment.  The  fact,  however,  is  as  I  have  stated  it,  for  the  despatches  came 
into  my  hands,  and  I  read  them.  The  capture,  as  I  was  informed,  succeeded 
by  the  following  stratagem: — the  captain  of  the  privateer  Madame,  who 
spoke  English,  on  coming  up  with  the  packet,  passed  himself  for  the  captain 
of  an  English  frigate,  and  invited  the  captain  of  the  packet  on  board,  which, 
when  done,  he  sent  some  of  his  hands  and  secured  the  mail.  But  lie  the 
circumstances  of  the  capture  what  they  may,  I  speak  with  certainty  as  to 
the  despatches.  They  were  sent  up  to  Paris,  to  count  Vergennes,  and  when 
Colonel  Laurens  and  myself  returned  to  America,  we  took  the  originals  to 
congress. 

By  these  despatches  I  saw  further  into  the  stupidity  of  the  English  cabines 
than  I  otherwise  could  have  done,  and  I  renewed  my  former  design.  But 
Colonel  Laurens  was  so  unwilling  to  return  alone,  more  especially,  as  among 
other  matters,  he  had  a  charge  of  upwards  of  two  hundred  thousand  pound . 
sterling  in  money,  that  I  gave  in  to  his  wishes,  and  finally  gave  up  my  plant 
But  I  am  now  certain,  that  if  I  could  have  executed  it,  it  would  not  have 
been  altogether  unsuccessful. 


RIGHTS  OF  MAN.  401 

up  to  aggrandize  the  corporations  to  the  ruin  of  the  towns;  and 
the  effect  is  visible. 

The  generality  of  corporation  towns  are  in  a  state  of  solitary 
,l(>cay,  and  prevented  from  further  ruin  only  by  some  circum- 
stances in  their  situation,  such  as  a  navigable  river,  or  a  plenti- 
ful surrounding  country.  As  population  is  one  of  the  chief 
>  lurces  of  wealth  (for  without  it  land  itself  has  no  value),  every- 
tiling  which  operates  to  prevent  it  must  lessen  the  value  of  pro- 
j.»erty;  and  as  corporations  have  not  only  this  tendency,  but 
<lirectly  this  effect,  they  cannot  but  be  injurious.  If  any  pol- 
icy were  to  be  followed,  instead  of  that  of  general  freedom,  to 
*'very  person  to  settle  where  he  chose  (as  in  France  or  America), 
it  would  be  more  consistant  to  give  encouragement  to  new 
comers,  then  to  preclude  their  admission  by  exacting  premiums 
from  them.* 

The  persons  most  immediately  interested  in  the  abolition  of 
corporations  are  the  inhabitants  of  the  towns  where  corpora- 
tions are  established.  The  instances  of  Manchester,  Birming- 
ham, and  Sheffield,  show,  by  contrast,  the  injury  which  those 
Gothic  institutions  are  to  property  and  commerce.  A  few  ex- 
amples may  be  found,  such  as  that  of  London,  whose  natural 
and  commercial  advantages,  owing  to  its  situation  on  the  Thames, 
is  capable  of  bearing  up  against  the  political  evils  of  a  corpor- 
ation ;  but  in  almost  all  other  cases  the  fatality  is  too  visible  to 
be  doubted  or  denied. 

Though  the  whole  nation  is  not  so  directly  affected  by  the  de- 
pression of  property  in  corporation  towns  as  the  inhabitants 
themselves,  it  partakes  of  the  consequene.  By  lessening  the 
value  of  property,  the  quantity  of  national  commerce  is  cur- 
tailed. Every  man  is  a  customer  in  proportion  to  his  ability  ; 
and  as  all  parts  of  a  nation  trade  with  each  other,  whatever  affects 
any  of  the  parts,  must  necessarily  communicate  to  the  whole. 


*  It  is  difficult  to  account  for  the  origin  of  charter  and  corporation  towns, 
unless  we  suppose  them  to  have  arisen  out  of,  or  having  been  connected  with 
some  species  of  garrison  services.  The  times  in  which  they  began  justify 
this  idea.  The  generality  of  those  towns  have  been  garrisons,  and  the  cor- 
porations were  charged  with  the  care  of  the  gates  of  the  towns,  when  no 
military  garrison  was  present.  Their  refusing  or  granting  adi.iission  to 
strangers,  which  has  produced  the  custom  of  giving,  selling,  and  buying  free- 
dom, has  more  of  the  nature  of  garrison  authority  than  civil  government. 
Soldiers  are  free  of  all  corporations  throughout  the  nation,  by  the  same  pro- 
priety that  every  soldier  is  free  of  every  garrison,  and  no  other  persons  are. 
He  can  follow  any  employment,  with  the  permission  of  his  officers,  in  any 
corporation  town'throughout  the  nation. 
2(1 


402  RIGHTS   OF    MAN. 

As  one  of  the  houses  of  the  English  parliament  is,  in  a  great 
measure,  made  up  by  elections  from  these  corporations;  and  as  it 
is  unnatural  that  a  pure  stream  would  flow  from  a  foul  fountain, 
its  vices  are  but  a  continuation  of  the  vices  of  its  origin.  A 
man  of  moral  honor  and  good  political  principals,  cannot  sub- 
mit to  the  mean  drudgery  and  disgraceful  arts,  by  which  such 
elections  are  carried.  To  be  a  successful  candidate,  he  must  be 
destitute  of  the  qualities  that  constitute  a  just  legislator :  and 
being  thus  disciplined  to  corruption  by  the  mode  of  entering 
into  parliament,  it  is  not  to  be  expected  that  the  representative 
should  be  better  than  the  man. 

Mr  Burke,  in  speaking  of  the  English  representation,  has  ad- 
vanced as  bold  a  challenge  as  ever  was  given  in  the  days  of  chiv- 
alry. "  Our  representation,"  says  he,  "  has  been  found  perfectly 
adequate  to  all  the  purposes  for  which  a  representation  of  the 
people  can  be  desired  or  devised.  I  defy,"  continues  he,  "  the 
enemies  of  our  constitution  to  show  the  contrary."  This  declar- 
ation from  a  man,  who  has  been  in  constant  opposition  to  all 
the  measures  of  parliament  the  whole  of  his  political  life,  a  year 
or  two  excepted,  is  most  extraordinary,  and,  comparing  him  with 
himself,  admits  of  no  other  alternative,  than  that  he  acted 
against  his  judgment  as  a  member,  or  has  declared  contrary  to 
it  as  an  author. 

But  it  is  not  in  the  representation  only  that  the  defects  lie, 
and  therefore  I  proceed  in  the  next  place  to  aristocracy. 

What  is  called  the  house  of  peers  is  constituted  on  a  ground 
very  similar  to  that  against  which  there  is  a  law  in  other  cases. 
It  amounts  to  a  combination  of  persons  in  one  common  interest. 
No  reason  can  be  given  why  a  house  of  legislation  should  be 
composed  entirely  of  men  whose  occupation  consists  in  letting 
landed  property,  than  why  it  should  be  composed  of  those  who 
hire,  or  of  brewers,  or  bakers,  or  any  other  separate  class  of 
men. 

Mr.  Burke  calls  this  house,  "  the  great  ground  and  pillar  of 
security  to  the  landed  interest."  Let  us  examine  this  idea. 

What  pillar  of  security  does  the  landed  interest  require,  more 
than  any  other  interest  in  the  state,  or  what  right  has  it  to  a 
distinct  representation  from  the  general  interest  of  a  nation  ? 
The  only  use  to  be  made  of  this  power  (and  which  it  has  always 
made)  is  to  ward  off  taxes  from  itself,  and  throw  the  burden 
upon  such  articles  of  consumption  by  which  itself  would  be 
least  affected. 


RIGHTS   OF    MAN.  403 

That  this  has  been  the  consequence  (and  will  always  be  the 
consequence  of  constructing  governments  on  combinations) 
is  evident,  with  respect  to  England,  from  the  history  of  its 
taxes. 

Notwithstanding  taxes  have  increased  and  mutiplied  upon 
every  article  of  common  consumption,  the  land  tax.  which 
more  particularly  affects  this  "pillar,"  has  diminished.  In 
1788,  the  amount  of  the  land-tax  was  £1,950,000,  which  is  half 
a  million  less  than  it  produced  almost  a  hundred  years  ago, 
notwithstanding  the  rentals  are  in  many  instances  doubled  since 
that  period. 

Before  the  coming  of  the  Hanoverians,  the  taxes  were  divided 
in  nearly  equal  proportions  between  the  land  and  articles  of 
consumption,  the  land  bearing  rather  the  largest  share;  but 
since  that  era,  nearly  thirteen  millions  annually  of  new  taxes 
have  been  thrown  upon  consumption.  The  consequence  of 
which  has  been  a  constant  increase  in  the  number  and 
wretchedness  of  the  poor,  and  in  the  amount  of  the  poor-rates. 
Yet  here  again  the  burden  does  not  fall  in  equal  proportion  on 
the  aristocracy  with  the  rest  of  the  community.  Their  resi- 
dences, whether  in  town  or  country,  are  not  mixed  with  the 
habitations  of  the  poor. — They  live  apart  from  distress,  and  the 
expense  of  relieving  it.  It  is  in  manufacturing  towns  and 
laboring  villages  that  those  burthens  press  the  heaviest;  in 
many  of  which  it  is  one  class  of  poor  supporting  another. 

Several  of  the  most  heavy  and  productive  taxes  are  so  con- 
trived, as  to  give  an  exemption  to  this  pillar,  thus  standing  in 
its  own  defence.  The  tax  upon  beer  brewed  for  sale  does  not 
affect  the  aristocracy,  who  brew  their  own  beer  free  of  this 
duty.  It  falls  only  on  those  who  have  not  convenience  or 
ability  to  brew,  and  who  must  purchase  it  in  small  quantities. 
But  what  will  mankind  think  of  the  justice  of  taxation,  when 
they  know,  that  this  tax  alone,  from  which  the  aristocracy  are 
from  circumstances  exempt,  is  nearly  equal  to  the  whole  of  the 
laud-tax,  being  in  the  year  1788,  and  it  is  not  less  now,  £1,666,- 
15.!,  and  with  its  proportion  of  the  taxes  on  malt  and  hops,  it 
exceeds  it.  That  a  single  article  thus  partially  consumed,  and 
that  chiefly  by  the  working  part,  should  be  subject  to  a  tax 
equal  to  that  on  the  whole  rental  of  a  nation,  is,  perhaps,  a  fact 
not  to  be  paralleled  in  the  history  of  revenues. 

This  is  one  of  the  consequences  resulting  from  a  house  of  leg- 
islation, composed  on  the  ground  of  a  combination  of  common 


4-04  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

interest;  for  •whatever  their  separate  politics  as  to  parties  may 
be,  in  this  they  are  united.  Whether  a  combination  acts  to 
raise  the  price  of  an  article  for  sale,  or  the  rate  of  wages;  or 
whether  it  acts  to  throw  taxes  from  itself  upon  another  class  of 
the  community,  the  principle  and  the  effect  are  the  same:  and 
if  the  one  be  illegal,  it  will  be  difficult  to  show  that  the  other 
ought  to  exist. 

It  is  no  use  t^  say,  that  taxes  are  first  proposed  in  the  house 
of  commons ;  for  as  the  other  house  has  always  a  negative,  it 
can  always  defend  itself  ;  and  it  would  be  ridiculous  to  suppose 
that  its  acquiesence  in  the  measures  to  be  proposed  were  not 
understood  beforehand.  Besides  which,  it  has  obtained  so  much 
influence  by  borough  traffic,  and  so  many  of  its  relations  and 
connexions  are  distributed  on  both  sides  of  the  commons,  as  to 
give  it,  besides  an  absolute  negative  in  the  house,  a  preponder- 
ancy  in  the  other,  in  all  matters  of  common  concern. 

It  is  difficult  to  discover  what  is  meant  by  the  landed  interest, 
if  it  does  not  mean  a  combination  of  aristocratical  land-holders, 
opposing  their  own  pecuniary  interest  to  that  of  the  farmer, 
and  every  branch  of  trade,  commerce,  and  manufacture.  In  all 
other  respects,  it  is  the  only  interest  that  needs  no  partial  pro- 
tection. It  enjoys  the  general  protection  of  the  world.  Every 
individual,  high  or  low,  is  interested  in  the  fruits  of  the  earth; 
men,  women  and  children,  of  all  ages  and  degrees,  will  turn  out 
to  assist  the  farmer,  rather  than  a  harvest  should  not  be  got  in; 
and  they  will  not  act  thus  by  any  other  property.  It  is  the  only 
one  for  which  the  common  prayer  of  mankind  is  put  up,  and 
the  only  one  that  can  never  fail  from  the  want  of  means.  It 
is  the  interest,  not  of  the  policy,  but  of  the  existence  of  man, 
and  when  it  ceases,  he  must  cease  to  be. 

No  other  interest  in  a  nation  stands  on  the  same  united  sup- 
port. Commerce,  manufactures,  arts,  sciences,  and  everything 
else,  compared  with  this  are  supported  but  in  parts.  Their 
prosperity  or  their  decay  has  not  the  same  universal  influence. 
When  the  valleys  laugh  and  sing,  it  is  not  the  farmer  only,  but 
all  creation  that  rejoices.  It  is  a  prosperity  that  excludes  all 
envy;  and  this  cannot  be  said  of  anything  else. 

Why  then  does  Mr.  Burke  talk  of  his  house  of  peers,  as  the 
pillar  of  the  landed  interest?  Were  that  pillar  to  sink  into 
the  earth,  the  same  landed  property  would  continue,  and  the 
same  plowing,  sowing,  and  reaping  would  go  on.  The  aristo- 
cracy are  not  the  farmers  who  -work  the  land,  and  raise  the 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  405 

produce,  but  are  the  mere  consumers  of  the  rent;  and  when 
compared  with  the  active  world,  are  the  drones,  a  seraglio  of 
males,  who  neither  collect  the  honey  nor  form  the  hive,  but  exist 
only  for  lazy  enjoyment. 

Mr.  Burke,  in  his  first  essay,  called  aristocracy,  "  the  corinth- 
ian  capital  of  polished  society."  Towards  completing  the  figure, 
he  has  now  added  the  pillar,  but  still  the  base  is  wanting ;  and 
whenever  the  nation  chooses  to  act  a  Samson,  not  a  blind,  but 
bold,  down  goes  the  Temple  of  Dagon,  the  lords  and  the  Philis- 
tines. 

If  a  house  of  legislation  is  to  be  composed  of  men  of  one  class, 
for  the  purpose  of  protecting  a  distinct  interest,  all  the  other 
interests  should  have  the  same.  The  inequality  as  well  as  the 
burden  of  taxation,  arises  from  admitting  it  in  one  case  and 
not  in  all.  Had  there  been  a  house  of  farmers,  there  had  been 
no  game  laws;  or  a  house  of  merchants  and  manufacturers,  the 
taxes  had  neither  been  so  unequal  nor  so  excessive.  It  is  from 
the  power  of  taxation  being  in  the  hands  of  those  who  can 
throw  so  great  a  part  of  it  from  their  own  shoulders,  that  it  has 
naged  without  a  check. 

Men  of  small  or  moderate  estates,  are  more  injured  by  the 
taxes  being  thrown  on  articles  of  consumption,  than  they  are 
eased  by  warding  it  from  landed  property,  for  the  following 
reasons: 

1st,  They  consume  more  of  the  productive  taxable  articles, 
in  proportion  to  their  property,  than  those  of  large  estates. 

2nd,  Their  residence  is  chiefly  in  towns,  and  their  property 
in  houses;  and  the  increase  of  the  poor-rates,  occasioned  by 
taxes  on  consumption,  is  in  much  greater  proportion  than  the 
land-tax  has  been  favored.  In  Birmingham  the  poor-rates 
are  not  less  than  seven  shillings  in  the  pound.  From  this, 
as  is  already  observed,  the  aristocracy  are  in  a  great  measure 
exempt. 

These  are  but  a  part  of  the  mischiefs  flowing  from  the  wretched 
scheme  of  a  house  of  peers. 

As  a  combination,  it  can  always  throw  a  considerable  portion 
of  taxes  from  itself;  as  an  hereditary  house,  accountable  to  no- 
body, it  resembles  a  rotten  borough,  whose  consent  is  to  be 
courted  by  interest.  There  are  but  few  of  its  members  who 
are  not  in  some  mode  or  other  participators  or  disposers  of  the 
public  money.  One  turns  a  candle-holder  or  a  lord-in-waiting; 
another  a  lord  of  the  bed-chamber,  a  groom  of  the  stole,  or  any 


406  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

insignificant  nominal  office,  to  which  a  salary  is  annexed,  paid 
out  of  the  public  taxes,  and  which  avoids  the  direct  appearance 
of  corruption.  Such  situations  are  derogatory  to  the  character 
of  a  man;  and  where  they  can  be  submitted  to,  honor  cannot 
reside. 

To  all  these  are  to  be  added  the  numerous  dependants,  the 
long  list  of  the  younger  branches  and  distant  relations,  who  are 
to  be  provided  for  at  the  public  expense:  in  short,  were  an  estima- 
tion to  be  made  of  the  charge  of  the  aristocracy  to  a  nation,  it 
will  be  found  nearly  equal  to  that  of  supporting  the  poor. 
The  Duke  of  Richmond  alone  (and  there  are  cases  similar  to  his) 
takes  away  as  much  for  himself  as  would  maintain  two  thou- 
sand poor  and  aged  persons.  Is  it,  then,  any  wonder  that  under 
such  a  system  of  government,  taxes  and  rates  have  multiplied  to 
their  present  extent  ? 

In  stating  these  matters,  I  speak  an  open  and  disinterested 
language,  dictated  by  no  passion  but  that  of  humanity.  To  me, 
who  have  not  only  refused  offers  because  I  thought  them  im- 
proper, but  have  declined  rewards  I  might  with  reputation 
have  accepted,  it  is  no  wonder  that  meanness  and  imposition 
appear  disgusting.  Independence  is  my  happiness,  and  I  view 
things  as  they  are,  without  regard  to  place  or  person;  my 
country  is  the  world,  and  my  religion  is  to  do  good. 

Mr.  Burke,  in  speaking  of  the  aristocratical  law  of  primogeni- 
ture, says,  "It  is  the  standard  law  of  our  landed  inheritance; 
and  which,  without  question,  has  a  tendency,  and  I  think," 
continues  he,  "a  happy  tendency,  to  preserve  a  character  of 
weight  and  consequence." 

Mr.  Burke  may  call  this  law  what  he  pleases,  but  humanity 
and  impartial  reflection  will  pronounce  it  a  law  of  brutal  in- 
justice. Were  we  not  accustomed  to  the  daily  practice,  and 
did  we  only  hear  of  it  as  the  law  of  some  distant  part  of  the 
world,  we  should  conclude  that  the  legislators  of  such  countries 
had  not  arrived  at  a  state  of  civilization. 

As  to  preserving  a  character  of  weight  and  consequence  the 
case  appears  to  me  directly  the  reverse.  It  is  an  attaint  upon 
character;  a  sort  of  privateering  upon  family  property.  It 
may  have  weight  among  dependent  tenants,  but  it  gives  none 
on  a  scale  of  national,  and  much  less  of  universal  character. 
Speaking  for  myself,  my  parents  were  not  able  to  give  me  a 
shilling  beyond  what  they  gave  me  in  education  ;  and  to  do  this 
they  distressed  themselves  ;  yet  I  possess  more  of  what  is  called 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  407 

consequence,  in  the  world,  than  any  one  in  Mr.  Burke's  cata- 
logue of  aristocrats. 

Having  thus  glanced  at  some  of  the  defects  of  the  two  houses 
of  parliament,  I  proceed  to  what  is  called  the  crown,  upon 
which  I  shall  he  very  concise. 

It  signifies  a  nominal  office  of  a  million  sterling  a-year,  the 
business  of  which  consists  in  receiving  the  money.  Whether 
the  person  be  wise  or  foolish,  sane  or  insane,  a  native  or  a 
foreigner,  matters  not.  Every  ministry  acts  upon  the  same 
idea  that  Mr.  Burke  writes,  namely,  that  the  people  must  be 
hoodwinked,  and  held  in  superstitious  ignorance  by  some  bug- 
bear or  other;  and  what  is  called  the  crown  answers  this  pur- 
pose, and  therefore  it  answers  all  the  purposes  to  be  expected 
from  it.  This  is  more  than  can  be  said  of  the  other  two 
branches. 

The  hazard  to  which  this  office  is  exposed  in  all  countries,  is 
not  from  anything  that  can  happen  to  the  man,  but  from  what 
may  happen  to  the  nation ;  the  danger  of  its  coming  to  its 


It  has  been  customary  to  call  the  crown  the  executive  power, 
and  the  custom  has  continued,  though  the  reason  has  ceased. 

It  was  called  the  executive,  because  he  whom  it  signified  used 
formerly  to  sit  in  the  character  of  a  judge,  in  administering  or 
executing  the  laws.  The  tribunals  were  then  a  part  of  the 
court.  The  power,  therefore,  which  is  now  called  the  judicial, 
was  what  is  called  the  executive;  and,  consequently,  one  or  the 
other  of  the  terms  is  redundant,  and  one  of  the  offices  useless. 
When  we  speak  of  the  crown  now,  it  means  nothing ;  it  signi- 
fies neither  a  judge  nor  a  general :  besides  which,  it  is  the  laws 
that  govern,  and  not  the  man.  The  old  terms  are  kept  up,  and 
give  an  appearance  of  consequence  to  empty  forms :  and  the  only 
effect  they  have  is  that  of  increasing  expenses. 

Before  I  proceed  to  the  means  of  rendering  governments 
more  conducive  to  the  general  happiness  of  mankind  than 
they  are  at  present,  it  will  not  be  improper  to  take  a  review  of 
the  progress  of  taxation  in  England. 

It  is  a  general  idea,  that  when  taxes  are  once  laid  on,  they 
are  never  taken  off.  However  true  this  may  have  been  of  late, 
it  was  not  always  so.  Either,  therefore,  the  people  of  former 
times  were  more  watchful  over  government  than  those  of  the 
present,  or  government  was  administered  with  less  extravagance. 

It  is  now  seven  hundred  years  since  the  Norman  conquest, 


408  RIG11TS   OF   MAN. 

and  the  establishment  of  what  is  called  the  crown.  Taking  this 
portion  of  time  in  seven  separate  periods  of  one  hundred  years 
each,  the  amount  of  the  annual  taxes,  at  each  period,  will  be 
as  follows : 

Annual  amount  of  taxes  levied  by  William  the  Conqueror,  begin- 
ning in  the  year  1066 £400,000 

Annual  amount  of  taxes  at  one  hundred  years  from  th«  conquest, 

(1166) 200,000 

Annual  amount  of  taxes  at  two  hundred  years  from  the  conquest, 

(1266) 150,000 

Annual  amount  of  taxes  at  three  hundred  years  from  the  conquest, 

(1366) 130,000 

Annual  amount  of  taxes  at  four  hundred  years  from  the  conquest, 

(1466) 100,000 

These  statements,  and  those  which  follow,  are  taken  from  Sir 
John  Sinclair's  "History  of  the  Revenue/'  by  which  it  appears, 
that  taxes  continued  decreasing  for  four  hundred  years,  at  the 
expiration  of  which  time  they  were  reduced  three-fourths,  viz., 
from  four  hundred  thousand  pounds  to  one  hundred  thousand. 
The  people  of  England,  of  the  present  day,  have  a  traditionary 
and  historical  idea  of  the  bravery  of  their  ancestors ;  but  what- 
ever their  virtues  or  vices  might  have  been,  they  certainly  were 
a  people  who  would  not  be  imposed  upon,  and  who  kept  govern- 
ment in  awe  as  to  taxation,  if  not  as  to  principle.  Though 
they  were  not  able  to  expel  $he  monarchical  usurpation,  they 
restricted  it  to  a  public  economy  of  taxes. 

Let  us  now  review  the  remaining  three  hundred  years. 

Annual  amount  of  taxes  at  five  hundred  years  from  the  conquest, 

(1566) £500,000 

Annual  amount  of  taxes  at  six  hundred  years  from  the  conquest, 

(1B66) 1,800,000. 

Annual  amount  of  taxes  at  the  present  time,  (1791) 17,000,000 

The  difference  between  the  first  four  hundred  years  and 
the  last  three,  is  so  astonishing,  as  to  warrant  the  opinion,  that 
the  national  character  of  the  English  has  changed.  It  would 
have  been  impossible  to  have  dragooned  the  former  English 
into  the  excess  of  taxation  that  now  exists ;  and  when  it  is  con- 
sidered that  the  pay  of  the  army,  the  navy,  and  of  all  the  rev- 
enue-officers, is  the  same  now  as  it  was  above  a  hundred  years 
ago,  when  the  taxes  were  not  above  a  tenth  part  of  what  they 
are  at  present,  it  appears  impossible  to  account  for  the  enormous 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  409 

increase  and  expenditure  on  any  other  ground  than  extrava- 
gauce,  corruption,  and  intrigue.* 

With  the  revolution  of  1688,  and  more  so  since  the  Hanover 
succession,  came  the  destructive  system  of  continental  intrigues, 
and  the  rage  for  foreign  wars  and  foreign  dominion  ;  systems 
of  such  secure  mystery,  that  the  expenses  admit  of  no  accounts  ; 
a  single  line  stands  for  millions.  To  what  excess  taxation 
might  have  extended,  had  not  the  French  revolution  cftntri- 
buted  to  break  up  the  system,  and  put  an  end  to  pretences,  is 
impossible  to  say.  Viewed  as  that  revolution  ought  to  be,  as 
the  fortunate  means  of  lessening  the  load  of  taxes  of  both 

*  Several  of  the  court  newspapers  have  of  late  made  frequent  mention  of 
Wat  Tyler.  That  his  memory  should  be  traduced  by  court  sycophants,  and 
all  those  who  live  upon  the  spoil  of  a  public,  is  not  to  be  wondered  at.  He 
was,  however,  the  means  of  checking  the  rage  and  injustice  of  taxation  in 
his  time,  and  the  nation  owed  much  to  his  valor.  The  history  is  concisely 
this  :— In  the  time  of  Kichard  II.  a  poll-tax  was  levied  of  one  shilling  per 
head  upon  every  person  in  the  nation,  of  whatever  class  or  condition,  on 
poor  as  well  as  rich,  above  the  age  of  fifteen  years.  If  any  favor  was  shown 
in  the  law  it  was  to  the  rich  rather  than  the  poor ;  as  no  person  could  be 
charged  more  than  twenty  shillings  for  himself,  family,  and  servants,  though 
ever  so  numerous — while  all  other  families,  under  the  number  of  twenty, 
were  charged  per  head.  Poll-taxes  had  always  been  odious — but  this  being 
also  oppressive  and  unjust,  it  excited,  as  it  naturally  must,  universal  detes- 
tation among  the  poor  and  middle  classes.  The  person  known  by  the  name 
of  Wat  Tyler,  ana  whose  proper  name  was  Walter,  and  a  tyler  by  trade, 
lived  at  Deptford.  The  gatherer  of  the  poll-tax  on  coming  to  his  house,  de- 
manded a  tax  for  one  of  his  daughters,  whom  Tyler  declared  was  under 
the  age  of  fifteen.  The  tax-gatherer  insisted  in  satisfying  himself,  and  began 
an  indecent  examination  of  the  girl,  which  enraging  the  father,  he  struck 
him  with  a  hammer,  that  brought  him  to  the  ground  and  was  the  cause  of 
his  death. 

The  circumstance  served  to  bring  the  discontents  to  an  issue.  The  in- 
habitants of  the  neighborhood  espoused  the  cause  of  Tyler,  who,  in  a  few 
days,  was  joined,  according  to  some  historians,  by  upwards  of  fifty  thousand 
men,  and  chosen  their  chief.  With  this  force  he  marched  to  London,  to  de- 
mand an  abolition  of  the  tax,  and  a  redress  of  other  grievances.  The  court, 
finding  itself  in  a  forlorn  condition,  and  unable  to  make  resistance,  agreed, 
with  Kichard  at  its  head,  to  hold  a  conference  with  Tyler  m  Smithfield, 
making  many  fair  professions,  courtier-like,  of  its  disposition  to  redress  the 
oppressions.  While  Richard  and  Tyler  were  in  conversation  on  these  mat- 
ters, each  being  on  horseback,  Walworth,  then  mayor  of  London,  and  one 
of  the  creatures  of  the  court,  watched  an  opportunity,  and,  like  a  cowardly 
assassin,  stabbed  Tyler  with  a  dagger — and  two  or  three  others  falling  upon 
him,  he  was  instantly  sacrificed. 

Tyler  appears  to  have  been  an  intrepid,  disinterested  man,  with  respect 
to  himself.  All  his  proposals  made  to  Richard  were  on  a  more  just  and 
public  ground  than  those  which  had  been  made  to  John  by  the  barons ;  and 
notwithstanding  the  sycophancy  of  historians,  and  men  like  Mr.  Burke,  who 
seek  to  gloss  over  a  base  action  of  the  court  by  traducing  Tyler,  his  fame 
will  outlive  their  falsehood.  If  the  barons  merited  a  monument  to  be  erected 
in  Runneymede,  Tyler  merits  one  in  Smithfield. 


410  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

countries,  it  is  of  as  much  importance  to  England  as  to  France ; 
and,  if  properly  improved  to  all  the  advantages  of  which  it  is 
capable,  and  to  which  it  leads,  deserves  as  much  celebration  in 
the  one  country  as  the  other. 

In  pursuing  this  subject,  I  shall  begin  with  the  matter  that 
first  presents  itself,  that  of  lessening  the  burden  of  taxes;  and 
shall  then  add  such  matters  and  propositions,  respecting  the 
three  countries  of  England,  France  and  America,  as  the  present 
prospect  of  things  appears  to  justify;  I  mean  an  alliance  of  the 
three,  for  the  purposes  that  will  be  mentioned  in  their  proper 
places. 

What  has  happened  may  happen  again.  By  the  statement 
before  shown,  of  the  progress  of  taxation,  it  is  seen  that  taxes 
have  been  lessened  to  a  fourth  part  of  what  they  had  formerly 
been.  Though  the  present  circumstances  do  not  admit  of  the 
same  reduction,  yet  they  admit  of  such  a  beginning  as  may  ac- 
complish that  end  in  less  time  than  in  the  former  case. 

The  amount  of  taxes  for  the  year  ending  at  Michaelmas, 
1778,  was  as  follows: 

Land  tax £1,950,000 

Customs , 3,789,274 

Excise  (including  old  and  new  malt) 6,751,727 

Stamps 1,278,214 

Miscellaneous  taxes  and  incident* 1,803,755 

Total £15,572,970 

Since  the  year  1788,  upwards  of  one  million,  new  taxes, 
have  been  laid  on,  besides  the  produce  of  the  lotteries;  and  as 
the  taxes  have  in  general  been  more  productive  since  than 
before,  the  amount  may  be  taken,  in  round  numbers,  at  $17, 
000,000. 

N.B. — The  expense  of  collection  and  the  drawbacks,  which 
together  amount  to  nearly  two  millions,  are  paid  out  of  the 
gross  amount;  and  the  above  is  the  net  sum  paid  into  the  ex- 
chequer. 

The  sum  of  seventeen  millions  is  applied  to  two  different 
purposes;  the  one  to  pay  the  interest  of  the  national  debt,  the 
other  to  pay  the  current  expenses  of  each  year.  About  nine 
millions  are  appropriated  to  the  former;  and  the  remainder, 
being  nearly  eight  millions,  to  the  latter.  As  to  the  million, 
said  to  be  applied  to  the  reduction  of  the  debt,  it  is  so  much 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  41  1 

like  paying  with  one  hand  and  taking  ont  with  the  other,  as 
not  to  merit  much  notice. 

It  happened  fortunately  for  France  that  she  possessed 
national  domains  for  paying  off  her  debt,  and  thereby  lessening 
her  taxes;  but  as  this  is  not  the  case  in  England,  her  reduction 
of  taxes  can  only  take  place  by  reducing  the  current  expenses, 
which  may  now  be  done  to  the  amount  of  four  or  five  millions 
annually,  as  will  hereafter  appear.  When  this  is  accomplished, 
it  will  more  than  counterbalance  the  enormous  charge  of  the 
American  war;  and  the  saving  will  be  from  the  same  source 
from  whence  the  evil  arose. 

As  to  the  national  debt,  however  heavy  the  interest  may  be 
in  taxes,  yet,  as  it  seems  to  keep  alive  a  capital,  useful  to  com- 
merce, it  balances  by  its  effects  a  considerable  part  of  its  own 
weight;  and  as  the  quantity  of  gold  and  silver  in  England  is, 
by  some  means  or  other,  short  of  its  proper  proportion,"*  (being 
not  more  than  twenty  millions,  whereas  it  should  be  sixty,)  it 
would,  besides  the  injustice,  be  bad  policy  to  extinguish  a  capital 
that  serves  to  supply  that  defect.  But,  with  respect  to  the 
current  expense,  whatever  is  saved  therefrom  is  gain'.  The  ex- 
cess may  serve  to  keep  corruption  alive,  but  it  has  no  reaction 
on  credit  and  commerce,  like  the  interest  of  the  debt. 

It  is  now  very  probable,  that  the  English  government  (I  do 
not  mean  the  nation)  is  unfriendly  to  the  French  revolution. 
Whatever  serves  to  expose  the  intrigue  and  lessen  the  influence 
of  courts,  by  lessening  taxation,  will  be  unwelcome  to  those 
who  feed  upon  the  spoil.  Whilst  the  clamor  of  French  intrigue, 
arbitrary  power,  popery,  and  wooden  shoes  could  be  kept  up, 
the  nations  were  easily  allured  and  alarmed  into  taxes.  Those 
clays  are  now  past;  deception,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  has  reaped  its 
last  harvest,  and  better  times  are  in  prospect  for  both  countries 
and  for  the  world. 

Taking  it  for  granted  that  an  alliance  may  be  formed  between 
England,  France  and  America,  for  the  purposes  hereafter  to  be 
mentioned,  the  national  expenses  of  France  and  England  may 
consequently  be  lessened.  The  same  fleets  and  armies  will  ne 
longer  be  necessary  to  either,  and  the  reduction  can  be  made 
ship  for  ship  on  each  side.  But  to  accomplish  these  objects, 
the  governments  must  necessarily  be  fitted  to  a  common  cor- 
respondent principle.  Confidence  can  never  take  place  while 

*  Foreign  intrigues,  foreign  wars,  and  foreign  dominions,  will  in  a  great 
measure  account  for  the  deficiency. 


412  EIGHTS    OF   MAN. 

a  hostile  disposition  remains  in  either,  or  where  mystery  and 
•secrecy  on  one  side  is  opposed  to  candor  and  openness  on  the 
other. 

These  matters  admitted,  the  national  expenses  might  be  put 
back,  for  the  sake  of  a  precedent,  to  what  they  were  at  some 
period  when  France  and  England  were  not  enemies.  This, 
consequently,  must  be  prior  to  the  Hanover  succession,  and  also 
to  the  revolution  of  1688.*  The  first  instance  that  presents 
itself,  antecedent  to  those  dates,  is  in  the  very  wasteful  and 
profligate  time  of  Charles  II.,  at  which  time  England  and 
France  acted  as  allies.  If  I  have  chosen  a  period  of  great  ex- 
travagance, it  will  serve  to  show  modern  extravagance  in  a  still 
worse  light;  especially,  as  the  pay  of  the  navy,  the  army,  and 
the  revenue-officers  has  not  increased  since  that  time. 

The  peace  establishment  was  then  as  follows:  (See  Sir  John 
Sinclair's  "History  of  the  Revenue.") 

Navy £300,000 

Army 212,000 

Ordnance 40,000 

Civil  List 462,115 


Total £1,014,115 

The  parliament,  however,  settled  the  whole  annual  peace 
establishment  at  £1,200,000. f  If  we  go  back  to  the  time  of 
Elizabeth,  the  amount  of  all  the  taxes  was  but  half  a  million,  yet 
the  nation  sees  nothing  during  that  period,  that  reproaches  it 
with  want  of  consequence. 

*  I  happened  to  be  in  England  at  the  celebration  of  the  centenary  of  the 
revolution  of  1688.  The  characters  of  William  and  Mary  have  always  ap- 
peared to  me  detestable ;  the  one  seeking  to  destroy  his  uncle,  and  the  other 
her  father,  to  get  possession  of  power  themselves :  yet,  as  the  nation  was 
disposed  to  think  something  of  .that  event,  I  felt  hurt  at  seeing  it  ascribe 
the  whole  reputation  of  it  to  a  man  who  had  undertaken  it  as  a  job,  and 
who,  besides  what  he  otherwise  got,  charged  six  hundred  thousand  pounds 
for  the  expense  of  the  little  fleet  that  brought  him  from  Holland.  George  I. 
acted  the  same  close-fisted  part  as  William  had  done,  and  bought  the  Duchy 
of  Bremen  with  the  money  he  got  from  England,  two  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  pounds  over  and  above  his  pay  as  king;  and  having  thus  pur- 
chased it  at  the  expense  of  England,  added  to  it  his  Hanover'an  dominions 
for  his  own  private  benefit.  In  fact,  every  nation  that  rli  <•  not  govern 
itself,  is  governed  as  a  job.  England  has  been  the  prey  of  jo^s  ever  since 
the  revolution. 

t  Charles,  like  his  predecessors  and  successors,  finding  that  war  was  the 
harvest  of  governments,  engaged  in  a  war  with  the  Dutch,  the  expense  of 
which  increased  the  annual  expenditure  to  £1,800,000,  as  stated  under  the 
date  of  1666 ;  but  the  peace  establishment  was  but  £1,200,000. 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  413 

All  circumstances  then  taken  together,  arising  from  the 
French  revolution,  from  the  approaching  harmony  and  reciprocal 
interest  of  the  two  nations,  the  abolition  of  court  intrigue  on 
both  sides,  and  the  progress  of  knowledge  in  the  science  of  gov- 
ernment, the  annual  expenditure  might  be  put  back  to  one 
million  and  a  half,  viz. : 

Navy £500,000 

Army 500,000 

Expenses  of  government 500,000 

Total £1,500,000 

Even  this  sum  is  six  times  greater  than  the  expenses  of  gov- 
«rnment  are  in  America,  yet  the  civil  internal  government  of 
England  (I  mean  that  administered  by  means  of  quarter  sessions, 
juries,  and  assize,  and  which,  in  fact,  is  nearly  the  whole,  and 
is  performed  by  the  nation),  is  less  expense  upon  the  revenue, 
than  the  same  species  and  portion  of  government  is  in  America. 

It  is  time  that  nations  should  be  rational,  and  not  be  gov- 
erned like  animals  for  the  pleasure  of  their  riders.  To  read  the 
history  of  kings,  a  man  would  be  almost  inclined  to  suppose  that 
government  consisted  in  stag-hunting,  and  that  every  nation 
paid  a  million  a-year  to  the  huntsman.  Man  ought  to  have 
pride  or  shame  enough  to  blush  at  being  thus  imposed  upon,  and 
when  he  feels  his  proper  character  he  will.  Upon  all  subjects 
of  this  nature,  there  is  often  passing  in  the  mind  a  train  of  ideas 
he  has  not  yet  accustomed  himself  to  encourage  and  communi- 
cate. Restrained  by  something  that  puts  on  the  character  of 
prudence,  he  acts  the  hypocrite  to  himself  as  well  as  to  others. 
It  is,  however,  curious  to  observe  how  soon  this  spell  can  be 
dissolved.  A  single  expression,  boldly  conceived  and  uttered, 
will  sometimes  put  a  whole  company  into  their  proper  feelings, 
and  a  whole  nation  are  acted  upon  in  the  same  manner. 

As  to  the  offices  of  which  any  civil  government  may  be  com- 
posed, it  matters  but  little  by  what  names  they  are  described. 
In  the  routine  of  business,  as  before  observed,  whether  a  man 
be  styled  a  president,  a  king,  an  emperor,  a  senator,  or  anything 
else,  it  is  impossible  that  any  service  he  can  perform,  can  merit 
from  a  nation  more  than  ten  thousand  pounds  a-year ;  and  as  no 
man  should  be  paid  beyond  his  services,  so  every  man  of  a  pro- 
per heart  will  not  accept  more.  Public  money  ought  to  be 
touched  with  the  most  scrupulous  consciousness  of  honor.  It  is 
not  the  produce  of  riches  only,  but  of  the  hard  earnings  of  labor 


414  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

and  po  eerty .  It  is  drawn  even  from  the  bitterness  of  want  and 
misery.  Not  a  beggar  passes,  or  perishes  in  the  streets,  whose 
mite  is  not  in  that  mass. 

Were  it  possible  that  the  congress  of  America,  could  be  so 
lost  to  their  duty,  and  to  the  interest  of  their  constituents,  as  to 
offer  General  Washington,  as  president  of  America,  a  million 
a-year,  he  would  not,  and  he  could  not  accept  it.  His  sense  of 
honor  is  of  another  kind.  It  has  cost  England  almost  seventy 
millions  sterling  to  maintain  a  family  imported  from  abroad,  of 
very  inferior  capacity  to  thousands  in  the  nation  ;  and  scarcely 
a  year  has  passed  that  has  not  produced  some  mercenary  appli- 
cation. Even  the  physicians'  bills  have  been  sent  to  the  public 
to  be  paid.  No  wonder  that  jails  are  crowded,  and  taxes  and 
poor-rates  increased.  Under  such  systems,  nothing  is  to  be 
looked  for  but  what  has  already  happened;  and  as  to  reforma- 
tion, whenever  it  comes,  it  must  be  from  the  nation,  and  not 
from  the  government. 

To  show  that  the  sum  of  five  hundred  thousand  pounds  is 
more  than  sufficient  to  defray  all  the  expenses  of  government, 
exclusive  of  navies  and  armies,  the  following  estimate  is  added 
for  any  country  of  the  same  extent  as  England. 

In  the  first  place,  three  hundred  representatives,  fairly  elected, 
are  sufficient  for  all  the  purposes  to  which  legislation  can  apply, 
and  preferable  to  a  large  number.  They  may  be  divided  into 
two,  or  three  houses,  or  meet  in  one,  as  in  France,  or  in  any 
manner  a  constitution  shall  direct. 

As  representation  is  always  considered,  in  free  countries,  as 
the  most  honorable  of  all  stations,  the  allowance  made  to  it  is 
merely  to  defray  the  expenses  which  the  representatives  incur 
by  that  service,  and  not  to  it  as  an  office. 

If  an  allowance  at  the  rate  of  five  hundred  pounds  per  annum 
be  made  to  every  representative,  deducting  for  non-attend- 
ance, the  expense,  if  the  whole  number  attended  for  six 
months  each  year,  would  be £75,000 

The  official  departments  cannot  reasonably  exceed  the  follow- 
ing number,  with  the  salaries  annexed  : 

Three  offices,  at  ten  thousand  pounds  each 30,000 

Ten  ditto,  at  five  thousand  pounds  each 50,000 

Twenty  ditto,  at  two  thousand  pounds  each 40,000 

Forty  ditto,  at  one  thousand  pounds  each  .     .    .    .  40,000 


Two  hundred  ditto,  at  five  hundred  pounds  each  . 
Three  hundred  ditto,  at  two  hundred  pounds  each 
Five  hundred  ditto,  at  one  hundred  pounds  each  . 
Seven  hundred  ditto,  at  seventy-five  pounds  each  . 


100,000 
60,000 
50,000 
62,500 


TOTAL     ....  .     £497.500 


RIGHTS   OF  MAN.  415 

If  a  nation  chooses,  it  can  deduct  four  per  cent,  from  all 
offices,  and  make  one  of  twenty  thousand  per  annum. 

All  revenue-officers  are  paid  out  of  the  moneys  they  collect, 
and  therefore,  are  not  included  in  this  estimation. 

The  foregoing  is  not  offered  as  an  exact  detail  of  offices,  but 
to  show  the  number  and  rate  of  salaries  which  five  hundred 
thousand  pounds  will  support ;  and  it  will,  on  experience,  be 
found  impracticable  to  find  business  sufficient  to  justify  even 
this  expense.  As  to  the  manner  in  which  office  business  is  now 
performed,  the  chiefs  in  several  offices,  such  as  the  post-office, 
and  certain  offices  in  the  exchequer,  &c.,  do  little  more  than 
sign  their  names  three  or  four  times  a  year  ;  and  the  whole 
duty  is  performed  by  under  clerks. 

Taking,  therefore,  one  million  and  a  half  as  a  sufficient  peace 
establishment  for  all  the  honest  purposes  of  government,  which 
is  three  hundred  thousand  pounds  more  than  the  peace  estab- 
lishment in  the  profligate  and  prodigal  times  of  Charles  II. 
(notwithstanding,  as  has  been  already  observed,  the  pay  and 
salaries  of  the  army,  navy,  and  revenue-officers,  continue  the 
same  as  at  that  period),  there  will  remain  a  surplus  of  upwards 
of  six  millions  out  of  the  present  current  expenses.  The  ques- 
tion then  will  be,  how  to  dispose  of  this  surplus. 

Whoever  has  observed  the  manner  in  which  trade  and  taxes 
twist  themselves  together,  must  be  sensible  of  the  impossibility 
of  separating  them  suddenly. 

1st,  Because  the  articles  now  on  hand  are  already  charged 
with  the  duty,  and  the  reduction  cannot  take  place  on  the  pre- 
sent stock. 

2nd,  Because,  on  all  those  articles  on  which  the  duty  is 
charged  in  the  gross,  such  as  per  barrel,  hogshead,  hundred- 
weight, or  ton,  the  abolition  of  the  duty  does  not  admit  of  being 
divided  down  so  as  fully  to  relieve  the  consumer,  who  purchases 
by  the  pint,  or  the  pound.  The  last  duty  laid  on  strong 
beer  and  ale,  was  three  shillings  per  barrel,  which,  if  taken  off, 
would  lessen  the  purchase  only  half  a  farthing  per  pint,  and 
consequently  would  not  reach  to  practical  relief. 

This  being  the  condition  of  a  greater  part  of  the  taxes,  it  will 
be  necessary  to  look  for  such  others  as  are  free  from  this  em- 
barrassment, and  where  the  relief  will  be  direct  and  visible, 
and  capable  of  immediate  operation. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  the  poor-rates  are  a  direct  tax  which 
every  housekeeper  feels,  and  who  knows  also,  to  a  farthing,  the 


416  RIGHTS  OF   MAN. 

sum  which  he  pays.  The  national  amount  of  the  whole  of  the 
poor-rates  is  not  positively  known,  but  can  be  procured.  Sir 
John  Sinclair,  in  his  "History  of  the  Revenue,"  has  stated  it 
at  £2,100,587,  a  considerable  part  of  which  is  expended  in 
litigations,  in  which  the  poor,  instead  of  being  relieved,  are 
tormented.  The  expense,  however,  is  the  same  to  the  parish, 
from  whatever  cause  it  arises. 

In  Birmingham,  the  amount  of  the  poor-rates  is  fourteen 
thousand  pounds  a  year.  This,  though  a  large  sum,  is  mode- 
rate compared  with  the  population.  Birmingham  is  said  to 
contain  seventy  thousand  souls,  and  on  a  proportion  of  seventy 
thousand  to  fourteen  thousand  pounds  poor-rates,  the  national 
amount  of  poor-rates,  taking  the  population  of  England  at  seven 
millions,  would  be  but  one  million  four  hundred  thousand  pounds. 
It  is,  therefore,  most  probable,  that  the  population  of  Birming- 
ham is  over-rated.  Fourteen  thousand  pounds  is  the  propor- 
tion upon  fifty  thousand  souls,  taking  two  millions  of  poor- 
rates  as  the  national  amount. 

Be  it,  however,  what  it  may,  it  is  no  other  than  the  conse- 
quence of  the  excessive  burden  of  taxes,  for,  at  the  time  when  the 
taxes  were  very  low,  the  poor  were  able  to  maintain  themselves; 
and  there  were  no  poor-rates.*  In  the  present  state  of  things,  a 
laboring  man,  with  a  wife  and  two  or  three  children,  does  not  pay 
less  than  between  seven  and  eight  pounds  a  year  in  taxes.  He 
is  not  sensible  of  this,  because  it  is  disguised  to  him  in  the  articles 
which  he  buys,  and  he  thinks  only  of  their  dearness  ;  but  as  the 
taxes  take  from  him,  at  least,  a  fourth  part  of  his  yearly  earn- 
ings, he  is  consequently  disabled  from  providing  for  a  family, 
especially  if  himself,  or  any  of  them,  are  afflicted  with  sickness. 

The  first  step,  therefore,  of  practical  relief,  would  be  to  abolish 
the  poor-rates  entirely,  and,  in  lieu  thereof,  to  make  a  remis- 
sion of  taxes  to  the  poor  to  double  the  amount  of  the  present 
poor-rates,  viz.,  four  millions  annually  out  of  the  surplus  taxes. 
By  this  measure  the  poor  would  be  benefited  two  millions  arid 
the  housekeepers  two  millions.  This  alone  would  be  equal  to 
the  reduction  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  millions  of  the 
national  debt,  and  consequently  equal  to  the  whole  expense  of 
the  American  war. 

It  will  then  remain  to  be  considered  which  is  the  most  effec- 
tual mode  of  distributing  the  remission  of  four  millions. 

*  Poor-rat.es  began  about  the  time  of  Henry  VIII.,  when  taxea  began  to 
increase,  and  they  have  increased  as  the  taxes  increased  ever  since. 


RIGHTS   OF  MAN.  417 

It  is  easily  seen  that  the  poor  are  generally  composed  of  large 
families  of  children,  and  old  people  unable  to  labor.  If  these 
two  classes  are  provided  for,  che  remedy  will  so  far  reach  to 
the  full  extent  of  the  case,  that  what  remains  will  be  incidental, 
and,  in  a  great  measure,  fall  within  the  compass  of  benefit 
clubs,  which,  though  of  humble  invention,  merit  to  be  ranked 
among  the  best  of  modern  institutions. 

Admitting  England  to  contain  seven  millions  of  souls ;  if  one 
fifth  thereof  are  of  that  class  of  poor  which  need  support,  the 
number  will  be  one  million  four  hundred  thousand.  Of  this 
number,  one  hundred  and  forty  thousand  will  be  aged  and  poor, 
as  will  be  hereafter  shown,  and  for  which  a  distinct  provision 
will  be  proposed. 

There  will  then  remain  one  million  two  hundred  and  sixty 
thousand,  which,  at  five  souls  to  each  family,  amount  to  two 
hundred  and  fifty-two  thousand  families,  rendered  poor  from 
the  expense  of  children  and  the  weight  of  taxes. 

The  number  of  children  under  fourteen  years  of  age,  in  each 
of  those  families,  will  be  found  to  be  five  to  every  two  families ; 
some  having  two,  others  three;  some  one,  and  others  four; 
some  none,  and  others  five;  but  it  rarely  happens  that  more 
than  five  are  under  fourteen  years  of  age,  and  after  this  age 
tl> ••"  are  capable  of  service,  or  of  being  apprenticed. 

I  lowing  five  children  (under  fourteen  years)  to  every  two 
fanuiies, 

The  number  of  children  will  be 630,000 

The  number  of  parents,  were  they  all  living,  would  be.    .    504,000 

It  is  certain  that  if  the  children  are  provided  for,  the  parents 
are  relieved  of  consequences,  because  it  is  from  the  expense  of 
bringing  up  children  that  their  poverty  arises. 

Having  thus  ascertained  the  greatest  number  that  can  be 
supposed  to  need  support  on  account  of  young  families,  I  pro- 
ceed to  the  mode  of  relief,  or  distribution,  which  is, 

To  pay  as  a  remission  of  taxes  to  every  poor  family,  out  of 
the  surplus  taxes,  and  in  room  of  poor-rates,  four  pounds  a  year 
for  every  child  under  fourteen  years  of  age;  enjoining  the 
parents  of  such  children  to  send  them  to  school,  to  learn  read- 
ing, writing,  and  common  arithmetic;  the  ministers  of  every 
parish,  of  every  denomination,  to  certify  jointly  to  an  office, 
for  this  purpose,  that  the  duty  is  performed. 


418  RIGHTS   OF    MAN. 

The  amount  of  this  expense  will  be,  for  six  hundred  and 
thirty  thousand  children,  at  .£4  each  per  annum,  £2,520,000. 

By  adopting  this  method,  not  only  the  poverty  of  the  parents 
will  be  relieved,  but  ignorance  will  be  banished  from  the  rising 
generation,  and  the  number  of  poor  will  hereafter  become  less, 
because  their  abilities  by  the  aid  of  education,  will  be  greater. 
Many  a  youth,  with  good  natural  genius,  who  is  apprenticed 
to  a  mechanical  trade,  such  as  a  carpenter,  wheelwright,  black- 
smith, <fec.,  is  prevented  getting  forward  the  whole  of  his  life, 
from  the  want  of  a  little  common  education  when  a  boy. 

I  now  proceed  to  the  case  of  the  aged. 

I  divide  age  into  two  classes.  1st,  the  approach  of  old  age, 
beginning  at  fifty:  2nd,  old  age,  commencing  at  sixty. 

At  fifty,  though  the  mental  faculties  of  man  are  in  full  vigor, 
and  his  judgment  better  than  at  any  preceding  date,  the  bodily 
powers  are  on  the  decline.  He  cannot  bear  the  same  quantity 
of  fatigue  as  at  an  earlier  period.  He  begins  to  earn  less,  and 
is  less  capable  of  enduring  the  wind  and  weather ;  and  in  those 
retired  employments  where  much  sight  is  required,  he  fails 
apace,  and  feels  himself  like  an  old  horse,  beginning  to  be 
turned  adrift. 

At  sixty,  his  labor  ought  to  be  over,  at  least  from  direct 
necessity.  It  is  painful  to  see  old  age  working  itself  to  death, 
in  what  are  called  civilized  countries,  for  its  daily  bread. 

To  form  some  judgment  of  the  number  of  those  above  fifty 
years  of  age,  I  have  several  times  counted  the  persons  I  met  in 
the  streets  of  London,  men,  women  and  children,  and  have 
generally  found  that  the  average  is  one  in  about  sixteen  or 
seventeen.  If  it  be  said  that  aged  persons  do  not  come  much 
into  the  streets,  so  neither  do  infants;  and  a  great  proportion 
of  grown  children  are  in  schools,  and  in  the  work-shops  as 
apprentices.  Taking  then  sixteen  for  a  divisor,  the  whole  num- 
ber of  persons  in  England,  of  fifty  years  and  upwards,  of  both 
sexes,  rich  and  poor,  will  be  four  hundred  and  twenty  thousand. 

The  persons  to  be  provided  for  out  of  this  gross  number  will 
be,  husbandmen,  common  laborers,  journeymen  of  every  trade, 
and  their  wives,  sailors,  and  disbanded  soldiers,  worn  out  ser- 
vants of  both  sexes,  and  poor  widows. 

There  will  also  be  a  considerable  number  of  middling  trades 
men,  who,  having  lived  decently  in  the  former  part  of  life, 
begin,  as  age  approaches,  to  lose  thoir  business,  and  at  last  fall 
into  decay. 


RIGHTS   OF    MAN.  41H 

Besides  these,  there  will  be  constantly  thrown  off  from  the 
revolutions  of  that  wheel  which  no  man  can  stop  nor  regulate, 
a  number  from  every  class  of  life  connected  with  commerce  and 
adventure. 

To  provide  for  all  those  accidents,  and  whatever  else  may 
befall,  I  take  the  number  of  persons  who  at  one  time  or  other 
of  their  lives,  after  fifty  years  of  age,  may  feel  it  necessary  or 
comfortable  to  be  better  supported  than  they  can  support  them- 
selves, and  that  not  as  a  matter  of  grace  and  favor,  but  of  right, 
at  one-third  of  the  whole  number,  which  is  one  hundred  and 
forty  thousand,  as  stated  p.  417,  and  for  whom  a  distinct  pro- 
vision was  proposed  to  be  made.  If  there  be  more,  society, 
notwithstanding  the  show  and  pomposity  of  government,  is  in 
a  deplorable  condition  in  England. 

Of  this  one  hundred  and  forty  thousand,  I  take  one  half, 
seventy  thousand,  to  be  of  the  age  of  fifty  and  under  sixty,  and 
the  other  half  to  be  sixty  years  and  upwards. — Having  thus 
ascertained  the  probable  proportion  of  the  number  of  aged,  I 
proceed  to  the  mode  of  rendering  their  condition  comfortable, 
which  is, 

To  pay  to  every  such  person  of  the  age  of  fifty  years,  and  until 
he  shall  arrive  at  the  age  of  sixty,  the  sum  of  six  pounds  per 
annum  out  of  the  surplus  taxes;  and  ten  pounds  per  annum 
during  life,  after  the  age  of  sixty.  The  expense  of  which  will 
be, 

Seventy  thousand  persons  at  £6  per  annum    ....     £420.000 
Seventy  thousand  persons  at  £10  per  annum    ....       700,000 

Total £1,120,000 

This  support,  as  already  remarked,  is  not  of  the  nature  of 
charity,  but  of  a  right.  Eveiy  person  in  England,  male  and 
female,  pays  on  an  average  in  taxes  two  pounds  eight  shillings 
and  sixpence  per  annum  from  the  day  of  his  (or  her)  birth ; 
and  if  the  expense  of  collection  be  added,  he  pays  two  pounds 
eleven  shillings  and  sixpence;  consequently,  at  the  end  of  fifty 
years,  he  has  paid  one  hundred  and  twenty-eight  pounds  fifteen 
shillings;  and  at  sixty,  one  hundred  and  fifty -four  pounds  ten 
shillings.  Converting,  therefqre,  his  (or  her)  individual  tax 
into  a  tontine,  the  money  he  shall  receive  after  fifty  years,  is 
but  little  more  than  the  legal  interest  of  the  net  money  he  has 
paid ;  the  rest  is  made  up  from  those  whose  circumstances  do 
not  require  them  to  draw  such  support,  and  the  capital  in  both 


420  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

cases  defrays  tne  expenses  of  government.  It  is  on  this  ground 
that  I  have  extended  the  probable  claims  to  one-third  of  the 
number  of  aged  persons  in  the  nation. — Is  it  then  better  that 
the  lives  of  one  hundred  and  forty  thousand  aged  persons  be 
rendered  comfortable,  or  that  a  million  a-year  of  public  money 
be  expended  on  any  one  individual,  and  he  often  of  the  most 
worthless  and  insignificant  character  1  Let  reason  and  justice, 
let  honor  and  humanity,  let  even  hypocrisy,  sycophancy,  and 
Mr.  Burke,  let  George,  let  Louis,  Leopold,  Frederic,  Catherine, 
Cornwallis,  or  Tippo  Saib,  answer  the  question.* 
The  sum  thus  remitted  to  the  poor  will  be, 

To  two  hundred  and  Pfty-two  thousand  poor  families,  containing 

six  hundred  and  thirty  thousand  children £2,520,000 

To  one  hundred  and  forty  thousand  aged  persons 1,120,000 

Total £3,640,000 

There  will  then  remain  three  hundred  and  sixty  thousand 
pounds  out  of  the  four  millions,  part  of  which  may  be  applied 
as  follows: 

After  all  the  above  cases  are  provided  for,  there  will  still  be 
a  number  of  families  who,  though  not  properly  of  the  class  of 
poor,  yet  find  it  difficult  to  give  education  to  their  children; 
and  such  children,  under  such  a  case,  would  be  in  a  worse  con- 
dition than  if  their  parents  were  actually  poor.  A  nation  under 
a  well  regulated  government,  should  permit  none  to  remain  un- 
instructed.  It  is  monarchical  and  aristocratical  governments 
only  that  require  ignorance  for  their  support. 

*  Reckoning  the  taxes  by  families,  five  to  a  family,  each  family  pays  on 
an  average  £12  17s.  6d.  per  annum,  to  this  sum  are  to  be  added  the  poor- 
rates.  Though  all  pay  taxes  in  the  articles  they  consume,  all  do  not  pay 
poor-rates.  About  two  millions  are  exempted,  some  as  not  being  house- 
keepers, others  as  not  being  able,  and  the  poor  themselves  who  receive  the 
relief.  The  average  therefore  of  poor-rates  on  the  remaining  number,  is 
forty  shillings  for  every  family  of  five  persons,  which  makes  the  whole  aver- 
age amount  >f  taxes  and  rates,  £14  17s.  6d. — for  six  persons,  £17  17s.— for 
seven  persons,  £20  16s.  6d. 

The  average  of  taxes  in  America,  under  the  new  or  representative  system 
of  government,  including  the  interest  of  the  debt  contracted  in  the  war,  and 
taking  the  population  at  four  millions  of  souls,  which  it  now  amounts  to,  and 
is  daily  increasing,  is  five  shillings  per  head,  men,  women,  and  children. 
The  difference,  therefore,  between  the  two  governments,  is  as  under : 

England.  America. 

For * family  of  five  persons     .    .    £14    17s.  6d.  £1      5s.  Od. 
For ft family  of  six  persons      .    .       17    17    0  1    10    0 

For » family  of  seven  persons      .       20    16    6  1    15    0 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  421 

Suppose  then  four  hundred  thousand  children  to  be  in  this 
condition,  which  is  a  greater  number  than  ought  to  be  supposed, 
after  the  provisions  already  made,  the  method  will  be, 

To  allow  for  each  of  those  children  ten  shillings  a-year  for 
the  expenses  of  schooling,  for  six  years  each,  which  will  give 
them  six  months'  schooling  each  year,  and  half  a  crown  a-year 
for  paper  and  spelling  books. 

The  expense  of  this  will  be  annually*  £250,000. 

There  will  then  remain  one  hundred  and  ten  thousand  pounds. 

Notwithstanding  the  great  modes  of  relief  which  the  best  in- 
stituted and  best  principled  government  may  devise,  there  wil) 
still  be  a  number  of  smaller  cases,  which  it  is  good  policy  as 
well  as  beneficence  in  a  nation  to  consider. 

Were  twenty  shillings  to  be  given  to  every  woman  imme- 
diately on  the  birth  of  a  child,  who  should  make  the  demand,  and 
none  will  make  it  whose  circumstances  do  not  require  it,  it 
might  relieve  a  great  deal  of  instant  distress. 

There  are  about  two  hundred  thousand  births  yearly  in  Eng- 
land; and  if  claimed  by  one-fourth,  the  amount  would  be 
£50,000. 

And  twenty  shillings  to  every  new  married  couple  who 
should  claim  in  like  manner.  This  would  not  exceed  the  sum 
of  £20,000. 

Also  twenty  thousand  pounds  to  be  appropriated  to  defray 
the  funeral  expenses  of  persons,  who,  travelling  for  work,  may 
die  at  a  distance  from  their  friends.  By  relieving  parishes  from 
this  charge,  the  sick  stranger  will  be  better  treated. 

I  shall  finish  this  part  of  my  subject  with  a  plan  adapted  to 
the  particular  condition  of  a  metropolis,  such  as  London. 

Cases  are  continually  occurring  in  a  metropolis  different  from 
those  which  occur  in  the  country,  and  for  which  a  different,  or 
rather  an  additional  mode  of  relief  is  necessary.  In  the  country, 

*  Public  schools  do  not  answer  the  general  purpose  of  the  poor.  They  are 
chiefly  in  corporation-towns,  from  which  the  country  towns  and  villages  are 
excluded — or  if  admitted,  the  distance  occasions  a  great  loss  of  time.  Educa- 
tion, to  be  useful  to  the  poor,  should  be  on  the  spot — and  the  best  method,  I 
believe,  to  accomplish  this,  is  to  enable  the  parents  to  pay  the  expense 
themselves.  There  are  always  persons  of  both  sexes  to  be  found  in  every 
village,  especially  when  growing  into  years,  capable  of  such  an  undertaking. 
Twenty  children,  at  ten  shillings  each  (and  that  not  more  than  six  months 
in  each  year),  would  be  as  much  as  some  livings  amount  to  in  the  remote 
parts  of  England — and  there  are  often  distressed  clergymen's  widows  to 
whom  such  an  income  would  be  acceptable.  Whatever  is  given  on  this  ac- 
count to  children  answers  two  purposes ;  to  them  it  is  education,  to  those 
who  educate  them  it  is  a  livelihood. 


422  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

even  in  large  towns,  people  have  a  knowledge  of  each  other,  and 
distress  never  rises  to  that  extreme  height  it  sometimes  does  in 
a  metropolis.  There  is  no  such  thing  in  the  country  as  persons, 
in  the  literal  sense  of  the  word,  starved  to  death,  or  dying  with 
cold  for  the  want  of  a  lodging.  Yet  such  cases,  and  others 
equally  as  miserable,  happen  in  London. 

Many  a  youth  comes  up  to  London  full  of  expectations,  and 
little  or  no  money,  and  unless  he  gets  employment  he  is  already 
half  undone;  and  boys  bred  up  in  London  without  any  means 
of  a  livelihood,  and,  as  it  often  happens,  of  dissolute  parents,  are 
in  a  still  worse  condition,  and  servants  long  out  of  place  are 
not  much  better  off.  In  short,  a  world  of  little  cases  are  con- 
tinually arising,  which  busy  or  affluent  life  knows  not  of,  to 
open  the  first  door  to  distress.  Hunger  is  not  among  the  post- 
ponable  wants,  and  a  day,  even  a  few  hours,  in  such  a  con- 
dition, is  often  the  crisis  of  a  life  of  ruin. 

These  circumstances,  which  are  the  general  cause  of  the  little 
thefts  and  pilferings  that  lead  to  greater,  may  be  prevented. 
There  yet  remain  twenty  thousand  pounds  out  of  the  four  mil- 
lions of  surplus  taxes,  which,  with  another  fund  hereafter  to  be 
mentioned,  amounting  to  about  twenty  thousand  pounds  more, 
cannot  be  better  applied  than  to  this  purpose.  The  plan  then 
will  be, 

1st,  To  erect  two  or  more  buildings,  or  take  some  already 
erected,  capable  of  containing  at  least  six  thousand  persons,  and 
to  have  in  each  of  these  places  as  many  kinds  of  employment  as 
can  be  contrived,  so  that  every  person  who  shall  come  may  find 
something  which  he  or  she  can  do. 

2nd,  To  receive  all  who  shall  come,  without  inquiring  who  or 
what  they  are.  The  only  condition  to  be,  that  for  so  much  or  so 
many  hours'  work,  each  person  shall  receive  so  many  meals  of 
wholesome  food,  and  a  warm  lodging,  at  least  as  good  as  a  bar- 
rack. That  a  certain  portion  of  what  each  person's  work  shall 
be  worth  shall  be  reserved,  and  given  to  him,  or  her,  on  their 
going  away ;  and  that  each  person  shall  stay  as  long,  or  as  short 
time,  or  come  as  often  as  he  chooses,  on  these  conditions. 

If  each  person  stayed  three  months,  it  would  assist  by  rotation 
twenty-four  thousand  persons  annually,  though  the  real  num- 
ber, at  all  times,  would  be  but  six  thousand.  By  establishing 
an  asylum  of  this  kind,  such  persons,  to  whom  temporary  dis- 
tresses occur,  would  have  an  opportunity  to  recruit  themselves, 
and  be  enabled  to  look  out  for  better  employment 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  423 

Allowing  that  their  labor  paid  but  one-halt  the  expense  of 
supporting  them,  after  reserving  a  portion  of  their  earnings 
for  themselves,  the  sum  of  forty  thousand  pounds  additional 
would  defray  all  other  charges  for  even  a  greater  number  than 
six  thousand. 

The  fund  very  properly  convertible  to  this  purpose,  in  addi- 
tion to  the  twenty  thousand  pounds,  remaining  of  the  former 
fund,  will  be  the  produce  of  the  tax  upon  coals,  and  so  iniqiu- 
tously  and  wantonly  applied  to  the  support  of  the  duke  of 
Richmond.  It  is  horrid  that  any  man,  more  especially  at  the 
price  coals  now  are,  should  live  on  the  distresses  of  a  commun- 
ity; and  any  government  permitting  such  an  abuse  deserves  to 
be  dissolved.  This  fund  is  said  to  be  about  twenty  thousand 
pounds  per  annum. 

I  shall  now  conclude  this  plan  with  enumerating  the  several 
particulars,  and  then  proceed  to  other  matters. 
The  enumeration  is  as  follows: 
1st,    Abolition  of  two  millions  poor-rates. 
2nd,  Provision  for  two  hundred  and  fifty -two  thousand  poor 
families. 

3rd,  Education  for  one  million  and  thirty  thousand  children. 
4th,  Comfortable  provision  for  one  hundred  and  forty  thou- 
sand aged  persons. 

5th,  Donation  of  twenty  shillings  each  for  fifty  thousand 
births. 

6th,  Donation  of  twenty  shillings  each  for  twenty  thousand 
marriages. 

7th,  Allowance  of  twenty  thousand  pounds  for  the  funeral 
expenses  of  persons  travelling  for  work,  and  dying  at  a  distance 
from  their  friends. 

8th,  Employment,  at  all  times,  for  the  casnal  poor  in  the 
cities  of  London  and  Westminster. 

By  the  operation  of  this  plan,  the  poor  laws,  those  instru- 
ments of  civil  torture,  will  be  superseded,  and  the  wasteful 
expense  of  litigation  prevented.  The  hearts  of  the  humane 
will  not  be  shocked  by  ragged  and  hungry  children,  and  peisons 
of  seventy  and  eighty  years  of  age  begging  for  bread.  The 
dying  poor  will  not  be  dragged  from  place  to  place  to  breathe 
their  last,  as  a  reprisal  of  parish  upon  parish.  Widows  will 
have  a  maintenance  for  their  children,  and  not  be  carted  away, 
on  the  death  of  their  husbands,  like  culprits  and  criminals; 
and  children  will  no  longer  be  considered  as  increasing  the 


424  RIGHTS  OF   MAN. 

distress  of  their  parents.  The  haunts  of  the  wretched  will  be 
known,  because  it  will  be  to  their  advantage;  and  the  number 
of  petty  crimes,  the  offspring  of  distress  and  poverty,  will  be 
lessened.  The  poor,  as  well  as  the  rich,  will  then  be  inter- 
ested in  the  support  of  government,  and  the  cause  and  appre- 
hension of  riots  and  tumults  will  cease.  Ye  who  sit  in  ease, 
and  solace  yourselves  in  plenty,  and  such  there  are  in  Turkey 
and  Russia,  as  well  as  in  England,  and  who  say  to  yourselves, 
44  Are  we  not  well  off,"  have  ye  thought  of  these  things  ?  When 
ye  do,  ye  will  cease  to  speak  and  feel  for  yourselves  alone. 

The  plan  is  easy  in  practice.  It  does  not  embarrass  trade  by 
a  sudden  interruption  in  the  order  of  taxes,  but  effects  the 
relief  by  changing  the  application  of  them;  and  the  more  neces- 
sary for  the  purpose,  can  be  drawn  from  the  excise  collections, 
which  are  made  eight  times  a-year  in  every  market  town  in 
England. 

Having  now  arranged  and  concluded  this  subject,  I  proceed 
to  the  next. 

Taking  the  present  current  expenses  at  seven  millions  and  a 
half,  which  is  the  least  amount  they  are  now  at,  there  will 
remain  (after  the  sum  of  one  million  and  a  half  be  taken  for 
the  new  current  expenses,  and  four  millions  for  the  beforemen- 
tioned  service)  the  sum  of  two  millions,  part  of  which  to  be 
applied  as  follows: 

Though  fleets  and  armies,  by  an  alliance  with  France,  will, 
in  a  great  measure,  become  useless,  yet  the  persons  who  have 
devoted  themselves  to  those  services,  and  have  thereby  unfitted 
themselves  for  other  lines  of  life,  are  not  to  be  sufferers  by  the 
means  that  make  others  happy. — They  are  a  different  descrip- 
tion of  men  to  those  who  form  or  hang  about  a  court. 

A  part  of  the  army  will  remain  at  least  for  some  years,  and 
also  of  the  navy,  for  which  a  provision  is  already  made,  in  the 
former  part  of  this  plan,  of  one  million,  which  is  almost  half 
a  million  more  than  the  peace  establishment  of  the  army  and 
navy  in  the  prodigal  times  of  Charles  II. 

Suppose  then  fifteen  thousand  soldiers  to  be  disbanded,  and 
to  allow  to  each  of  those  men  three  shillings  a  week  during 
life,  clear  of  all  deductions,  to  be  paid  in  the  same  manner  as 
the  Chelsea  College  pensioners  are  paid,  and  for  them  to  return 
to  their  trades  and  their  friends;  and  also  to  add  fifteen  thou- 
sand sixpences  per  week  to  the  pay  of  the  soldiers  who  shall 
remain;  the  annual  expense  will  be, 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  425 


To  the  pay  ot  fifteen  thousand  disbanded  soldiers,  at  three  shil- 
lings per  week          £117,000 

Additional  pay  to  the  remaining  soldiers 19,500 

Suppose  that  the  pay  to  the  officers  of  the  disbanded  corps  be  of 

the  same  amount  as  the  sum  allowed  to  the  men    ....       117,000 


£253,500 

To  prevent  bulky  estimations,  admit  the  same  sum  to  the  dis- 
banded navy  as  to  the  army,  and  the  same  increase  of  pay    .       253,500 

Total £507,000 

Every  year  some  part  of  this  sum  of  half  a  million  (I  omit 
the  odd  seven  thousand  pounds,  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  the 
account  unembarrassed)  will  fall  in,  and  the  whole  of  it  in 
time,  as  it  is  on  the  ground  of  life  annuities,  except  the  in- 
creased pay  of  thirty-nine  thousand  pounds.  As  it  falls  in,  a 
part  of  the  taxes  may  be  taken  off;  for  instance,  when  thirty 
thousand  pounds  fall  in,  the  duty  on  hops  may  be  wholly  taken 
off;  and  as  other  parts  fall  in,  the  duties  on  candles  and  soap 
may  be  lessened,  till  at  last  they  will  totally  cease. — There 
now  remains  at  least  one  million  and  a  half  of  surplus  taxes. 

The  tax  on  houses  and  windows  is  one  of  those  direct 
taxes,  which,  like  the  poor-rates,  is  not  confounded  with  trade ; 
and  when  taken  of,  the  relief  will  be  instantly  felt.  This  tax 
falls  heavy  on  the  middle  class  of  people. 

The  amount  of  this  tax  by  the  returns  of  1788,  was, 

Houses  and  windows  by  the  act  of  1766 £385,459    1U    7d. 

by  the  act  of  1779 130,739    14       5$ 

Total £516,199      6      0£ 

If  this  tax  be  struck  off,  there  will  then  remain  about  one 
million  of  surplus  taxes,  and  as  it  is  always  proper  to  keep  a 
sum  in  reserve,  for  incidental  matters,  it  may  be  best  not  to 
extend  reductions  further,  in  the  first  instance,  but  to  consider 
what  may  be  accomplished  by  other  modes  of  reform. 

Among  the  taxes  most  heavily  felt  is  the  commutation  tax. 
I  shall,  therefore,  offer  a  plan  for  its  abolition,  by  substituting 
another  in  its  place,  which  will  effect  three  objects  at  once: 

1st,  That  of  removing  the  burden  to  where  it  can  best  be 
borne. 

2nd,  Restoring  justice  among  families  by  distribution  of 
property. 

3rd,  Extirpating  the  overgrown  influence  arising  from  the 
unnatural  law  of  primogeniture,  and  which  is  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal sources  of  corruption  at  elections. 


426  BIGHTS  OF   MAN. 

The  amount  of  the  commutation  tax  by  the  returns  of  1788 
was  £771,657. 

When  taxes  are  proposed,  the  country  is  amused  by  the 
plausible  language  of  taxing  luxuries.  One  thing  is  called  a 
luxury  at  one  time,  and  something  else  at  another;  but  the 
real  luxury  does  not  consist  in  the  article,  but  in  the  means  ol 
procuring  it,  and  this  is  always  kept  out  of  sight. 

I  know  not  why  any  plant  or  herb  of  the  field  should  be 
a  greater  luxury  in  one  country  than  another,  but  an  over- 
grown estate  in  either  is  a  luxury  at  all  times,  and,  as  such, 
is  the  proper  object  of  taxation.  It  is,  therefore,  right  to 
take  those  kind  tax-making  gentlemen  up  on  their  own  word, 
and  argue  on  the  principle  themselves  have  laid  down,  that  of 
taxing  luxuries.  If  they,  or  their  champion,  Mr.  Burke,  who, 
I  fear,  is  growing  out  of  date  like  the  man  in  armor,  can  prove 
that  an  estate  of  twenty,  thirty,  or  forty,  thousand  pounds 
a-year  is  not  a  luxury,  I  will  give  up  the  argument. 

Admitting  that  any  annual  sum,  say,  for  instance,  one  thou- 
sand pounds,  is  necessary  or  sufficient  for  the  support  of  a 
family,  consequently  the  second  thousand  is  of  the  nature  of  a 
luxury,  the  third  still  more  so,  and  by  proceeding  on,  we  shall 
at  last  arrive  at  a  sum  that  may  not  improperly  be  called  a 
prohibitable  luxury.  It  would  be  impolitic  to  set  bounds  to 
property  acquired  by  industry,  and  therefore  it  is  right  to  place 
the  prohibition  beyond  the  probable  acquisition  to  which  in- 
dustry can  extend;  but  there  ought  to  be  a  limit  to  property, 
or  the  accumulation  of  it  by  bequest.  It  should  pass  in  some 
other  line.  The  richest  in  every  nation  have  poor  relations, 
and  those  often  very  near  in  consanguinity. 

The  following  table  of  progressive  taxation  is  constructed 
on  the  above  principles,  and  as  a  substitute  for  the  commuta- 
tion tax.  It  will  reach  the  point  of  prohibition  by  a  regular 
operation,  and  thereby  supersede  the  aristocratical  law  of 
primogeniture. 

TABLE  I. 

A  tax  on  all  estates  of  the  clear  yearly  value  of  £60,  after 

deducting  the  land  tax,  and  up  to  £500 Os.  3d.  per  pound 

From  £500  to  £1000 06          tf 

On  the  2nd  thousand 09          " 

"3rd        "          -.10 

"4th        "          16 

And  so  on,  adding  la  per  pound  on  every  additional  thousand. 


RIGHTS   OF  MAN.  427 

At'  the  twenty-third  thousand  the  tax  becomes  twenty  shil- 
lings in  the  pound,  and,  consequently,  every  thousand  beyond 
that  sum,  can  produce  no  profit  but  by  dividing  the  estate.  Yet, 
formidable  as  this  tax  appears,  it  will  not,  I  believe,  produce  so 
much  as  the  commutation  tax;  should  it  produce  more,  it  ought 
to  be  lowered  to  that  amount  upon  estates  under  two  or  three 
thousand  a-year. 

On  small  and  middling  estates  it  is  lighter  (as  it  is  intended 
to  be)  than  the  commutation  tax.  It  is  not  till  after  seven  or 
eight  thousand  a-year,  that  it  begins  to  be  heavy.  The  object 
is  not  so  much  the  produce  of  the  tax  as  the  justice  of  the  meas- 
ure. The  aristocracy  has  screened  itself  too  much,  and  this 
serves  to  restore  a  part  of  the  lost  equilibrium. 

As  an  instance  of  its  screening  itself,  it  is  only  necessary  to 
look  back  to  the  first  establishment  of  the  excise  laws,  at  what 
is  called  the  revolution,  or  the  coming  of  Charles  II.  The  aris- 
tocratical  interest  then  in  power,  commuted  the  feudal  services 
itself  was  under,  by  laying  a  tax  on  beer  brewed  for  sale;  that 
is,  they  compounded  with  Charles  for  an  exemption  from  those 
services  for  themselves  and  their  heirs,  by  a  tax  to  be  paid  by 
other  people.  The  aristocracy  do  not  purchase  beer  brewed  for 
sale,  but  brew  their  own  beer  free  of  the  duty,  and  if  any  commu- 
tation at  that  time  was  necessary,  it  ought  to  have  been  at  the 
expense  of  those  for  whom  the  exemptions  from  those  services 
were  intended;*  instead  of  which,  it  was  thrown  on  an  entire 
different  class  of  men. 

But  the  chief  object  of  his  progressive  tax  (besides  the  jus- 
tice of  rendering  taxes  more  equal  then  they  are)  is,  as  already 
stated,  to  extirpate  the  overgrown  influence  arising  from  the  un- 
natural law  of  primogeniture,  and  which  is  one  of  the  principal 
sources  of  corruption  at  elections. 

It  would  be  attended  with  no  good  consequences  to  inquire 
how  such  vast  estates  as  thirty,  forty,  or  fifty  thousand  a-year 
could  commence,  and  that  at  a  time  when  commerce  and  man- 
ufactures were  not  in  a  state  to  admit  of  such  acquisitions.  Let 
it  be  sufficient  to  remedy  the  evil  by  putting  them  in  a  condi- 
tion of  descending  again  to  the  community  by  the  quiet  means  of 

*  The  tax  on  beer  brewed  for  sale,  from  which  the  aristocracy  are  exempt, 
is  almost  one  million  more  then  the  present  commutation  tax,  being  by  the 
returns  of  1788,  £1,666,152 — and,  consequently,  they  ought  to  take  on  them- 
selves the  amount  of  the  commutation  tax,  as  they  are  already  exempted 
from  one  which  is  almost  a  million  greater 


428 


RIGHTS   OF  MAN. 


apportioning  them  among  all  the  heirs  and  heiresses  of  those 
families.  This  will  be  the  more  necessary,  because  hitherto  the 
aristocracy  have  quartered  their  younger  children  and  connex- 
ions upon  the  public,  in  useless  posts,  places  and  offices,  which, 
when  abolished,  will  leave  them  destitute,  unless  the  law  oi 
primogeniture  be  also  abolished  or  superseded. 

A  progressive  tax  will,  in  a  great  measure,  effect  this  object, 
and  that  as  a  matter  of  interest  to  the  parties  most  imme- 
diately concerned,  as  will  be  seen  by  the  following  table ;  which 
shows  the  nett  produce  upon  every  estate,  after  subtracting 
the  tax.  By  this  it  will  appear,  that  after  an  estate  exceeds 
thirteen  or  fourteen  thousand  a-year,  the  remainder  produces 
but  little  profit  to  the  holder,  and  consequently,  will  either  pass 
to  the  younger  children  or  to  other  kindred. 

TABLE  II, 

Showing  the  nett  produce  of  every  estate  from  one  thousand  to 
twenty-three  thousand  pounds  a-year. 


No.  of  thousands 
per  arm. 

Total  tax  subtracted. 

| 
Nett  produce. 

£1,000 

£21 

£979 

2,000 

59 

1,941 

3,000 

109 

2,891 

4,000 

184 

3,861 

5,000 

284 

4,716 

6,000 

434 

5,566 

7,000 

634 

6,366 

8,000 

880 

7,120 

9,000 

1,180 

7,820 

10,000 

1,530 

8,470 

11,000 

1,930 

9,070 

12,000 

2,380 

9,620 

13,  (XX) 

2,880 

10,120 

14,000 

3,430 

10,570 

15,000 

4,030 

10,970 

16,000 

4,680 

11,320 

17,000 

5,380 

11,620 

18,000 

6,130 

11,870 

19,000 

6,830 

12,170 

20,000 

7,780 

12,220 

21,000 

8,680 

12,320 

22,000     . 

9,030 

12.370 

23,000 

10,630 

12,370 

N.B. — The  odd  shillings  are  dropped  with  this  table. 


EIGHTS   OF  MAN.  429 

According  to  this  table,  an  estate  cannot  produce  more  than 
£12,370  clear  of  the  land  tax,  and  the  progressive  tax,  and 
therefore  the  dividing  such  estates  will  follow  as  a  matter  of 
family  interest.  An  estate  of  £23,000  a-year,  divided  into  five 
estates  of  four  thousand  each  and  one  of  three,  will  be  charged 
only  £1129  which  is  but  five  per  cent.,  but  if  held  by  any  one 
possessor,  will  be  charged  £10,630. 

Although  an  inquiry  into  the  origin  of  those  estates  be  un- 
necessary, the  continuation  of  them  in  the  present  state  is  an- 
other subject.  It  is  a  matter  of  national  concern.  As  heredi- 
tary estates,  the  law  has  created  the  evil,  and  it  ought  also  to 
provide  the  remedy.  Primogeniture  ought  to  be  abolished,  not 
only  because  it  is  unnatural  and  unjust,  but  because  the  coun- 
try suffers  by  its  operation.  By  cutting  off  (as  before  observed) 
the  younger  children  from  their  proper  portion  of  inheritance, 
the  public  is  loaded  with  the  expense  of  maintaining  them  ;  and 
the  freedom  of  elections  violated  by  the  overbearing  influence 
which  this  unjust  monopoly  of  family  property  produces.  Nor 
is  this  all.  It  occasions  a  waste  of  national  property.  A  con- 
siderable part  of  the  land  of  the  country  is  rendered  unpro- 
ductive by  the  great  extent  of  parks  and  chases  which  this 
law  serves  to  keep  up,  and  this  at  a  time  when  the  annual  pro- 
duction of  grain  is  not  equal  to  the  national  consumption.* — In 
short,  the  evils  of  the  aristocratical  system  are  so  great  and 
numerous,  so  inconsistent  with  everything  that  is  just,  wise, 
natural  and  beneficent,  that  when  they  are  considered,  there 
ought  not  to  be  a  doubt  that  many,  who  are  now  classed  under 
that  description,  will  wish  to  see  such  a  system  abolished. 

What  pleasure  can  they  derive  from  contemplating  the  ex- 
posed condition,  and  almost  certain  beggary  of  their  younger 
offspring]  Every  aristocratical  family  has  an  appendage  of 
family  beggars  hanging  round  it,  which  in  a  few  ages  or  a  few 
generations,  are  shook  off,  and  console  themselves  with  telling 
their  tale  in  alms-houses,  work-houses,  and  prisons.  This  is  the 
natural  consequence  of  aristocracy.  The  peer  and  the  beggar  are 
often  of  the  same  family.  One  extreme  produces  the  other:  to 
make  one  rich  many  must  be  made  poor;  neither  can  the  system 
be  supported  by  other  means. 

There  are  two  classes  of  people  to  whom  the  laws  of  England 
are  particularly  hostile,  and  those  the  most  helpless;  younger 
children,  and  the  poor.  Of  the  former  I  have  just  spoken;  of 

*See  the  "Reports  on  the  Corn  Trade." 


430  RIGHTS   OF  MAK. 

the  latter  I  shall  mention  one  instance  out  of  the  many  that 
might  be  produced,  and  with  which  1  shall  close  this  subject. 

Several  laws  are  in  existence  for  regulating  and  limiting 
workmen's  wages.  Why  not  leave  them  as  free  to  make  their 
own  bargains,  as  the  law-makers  are  to  let  their  farms  and 
houses'?  Personal  labor  is  all  the  property  they  have.  Why 
is  that  little,  and  the  little  freedom  they  enjoy,  to  be  infringed? 
But  the  injustice  will  appear  stronger,  if  we  consider  the  oper- 
ation and  effect  of  such  laws.  When  wages  are  fixed  by  what 
is  called  a  law  the  legal  wages  remain  stationary,  while  every- 
thing else  is  progression;  and  as  those  who  make  that  law,  still 
continue  to  lay  on  new  taxes  by  other  laws,  they  increase  thn 
expense  of  living  by  one  law,  and  take  away  the  means  by 
another. 

But  if  these  gentlemen  law-makers  and  tax-makers  thought  i  t 
right  to  limit  the  poor  pittance  which  personal  labor  can  pro- 
duce, and  on  which  a  whole  family  is  to  be  supported,  they  cer 
tainly  must  feel  themselves  happily  indulged  in  a  limitation  on 
their  own  part,  of  not  less  than  twelve  thousand  a-year,  aiul 
that  of  property  they  never  acquired  (nor  probably  any  of  their 
ancestors),  and  of  which  they  have  made  so  ill  use. 

Having  now  finished  this  subject,  I  shall  bring  the  several 
particulars  into  one  view,  and  then  proceed  to  other  matters. 

The  first  eight  articles  are  brought  forward  from  p.  423. 

1st.     Abolition  of  two  millions  of  poor-rates. 

2nd.  Provision  for  two  hundred  and  fifty-two  thousand  poor 
families,  at  the  rate  of  four  pounds  per  head  for  each  child 
under  fourteen  years  of  age;  which,  with  the  addition  of  two 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pounds,  provides  also  education  for 
one  million  and  thirty  thousand  children. 

3rd.  Annuity  of  six  pounds  per  annum  each  for  all  poor 
persons,  decayed  tradesmen  and  others,  supposed  seventy  thou- 
sand, of  the  age  of  fifty  years,  and  until  sixty. 

4th.  Annuity  of  ten  pounds  each  for  life  for  all  poor  per- 
sons, decayed  tradesmen  and  others,  supposed  seventy  thousand, 
of  the  age  of  sixty  years. 

5th,  Donation  of  twenty  shillings  each  for  fifty  thousand 
births. 

6th.  Donation  of  twenty  shillings  each  for  twenty  thousand 
marriages. 

7th.    Allowance  of  twenty  thousand  pounds  for  the  funen'' 


EIGHTS   OF   MAN.  431 

expanses  of  persons  travelling  for  work,  and  dying  at  a  distance 
from  their  friends. 

8th.    Employment  at  all  times  for  the  casual  poor  in  the 
cities  of  London  and  Westminster. 

Second  enumeration : 
9th.    Abolition  of  the  tax  on  houses  and  windows. 

10th.  Allowance  of  three  shillings  per  week  for  life  to  fifteen 
thousand  disbanded  soldiers,  and  a  proportionate  allowance  to 
the  officers  of  the  disbanded  corps. 

llth.  Increase  of  pay  to  the  remaining  soldiers  of  £19,500 
annually. 

12th.  The  same  allowance  to  the  disbanded  navy,  and  the 
same  increase  of  pay  as  to  the  army. 

13th.    Abolition  of  the  commutation  tax. 

14th.  Plan  of  a  progressive  tax  operating  to  extirpate  the 
unjust  and  unnatural  law  of  primogeniture,  and  the  vicious  in- 
fluence of  the  aristocratical  system.* 

There  yet  remains,  as  already  stated,  one  million  of  surplus 
taxes.  Some  part  of  this  will  be  required  for  circumstances 
that  do  not  immediately  present  themselves,  and  such  part 
as  shall  not  be  wanted  will  admit  of  a  further  .reduction  of 
taxes  equal  to  that  amount. 

Among  the  claims  that  justice  requires  to  be  made,  the  con- 

*  When  inquiries  are  made  into  the  condition  of  the  poor,  various  degrees 
of  distress  will  most  probably  be  found,  to  render  a  different  arrangement 
preferable  to  that  which  is  already  proposed.  Widows  with  families  will  be 
in  greater  want  than  where  there  are  husbands  living.  There  is  also  a  dif- 
ference in  the  expense  of  living  in  different  countries — and  more  so  in  fueL 

Suppose  fifty  thousand  extraordinary  cases,  at  the  rate  of  ten 

pounds  per  family  per  ann £500,000 

100,000  families,  at  £8  per  family  per  ann 800,000 

100,000  families,  at  £7  per      "  "  700,000 

104,000  families,  at  £5  per      "  "  520,000 

And  instead  of  ten  shillings  per  head  for  the  education  of  other 
children,  to  allow  fifty  shillings  per  family  for  that  purpose 
to  fifty  thousand  families 250,000 

2,770,000 
140,000  aged  persons  as  before 1,120,000 

Total £3,890,000 

This  arrangement  amounts  to  the  same  sum  as  stated  in  p.  420,  including 
the  £250,000  for  education:  but  it  provides  (including  the  aged  people)  for 
four  hundred  and  f ou ,  \}--wtaf>  •*  families,  which  is  almost  one-third  of  all 
the  families  in  England. 


432  RIGHTS   OF  MAN. 

dition  of  the  inferior  revenue  officers  will  merit  attention.  It 
is  a  reproach  to  any  government  to  waste  such  an  immensity 
of  revenue  in  sinecures  and  nominal  and  unnecessary  places 
and  offices,  and  not  allow  even  a  decent  livelihood  to  those  on 
whom  the  labor  falls.  The  salary  of  the  inferior  officers  of  the 
revenue  has  stood  at  the  petty  pittance  of  less  than  fifty 
pounds  a-year,  for  upwards  of  one  hundred  years.  It  ought 
to  be  seventy.  About  one  hundred  and  twenty  thousand 
pounds  applied  to  this  purpose  will  put  all  those  salaries  in  a 
decent  condition. 

This  was  proposed  to  be  done  almost  twenty  years  ago,  but 
the  treasury  board  then  in  being,  startled  at  it,  as  it  might 
lead  to  similar  expectations  from  the  army  and  navy;  and  the 
event  was  that  the  king,  or  somebody  for  him,  applied  to  par- 
liament to  have  his  own  salary  raised  a  hundred  thousand 
pounds  a-year,  which  being  done,  everything  else  was  kid 
aside. 

With  respect  to  another  class  of  men,  the  inferior  clergy,  I 
forbear  to  enlarge  on  their  condition;  but  all  partialities  and 
prejudices  for  or  against,  different  modes  and  forms  of  religion 
aside,  common  justice  will  determine  whether  there  ought  to 
be  an  income  of  twenty  or  thirty  pounds  a-year  to  one  man 
and  of  ten  thousand  to  another.  I  speak  on  this  subject  with 
the  more  freedom,  because  I  am  known  not  to  be  a  Presbyter- 
ian ;  and  therefore  the  cannery  of  court  sycophants,  about  church 
and  meeting,  kept  up  to  amuse  and  bewilder  the  nation,  cannot 
be  raised  against  me. 

Ye  simple  men  on  both  sides  the  question,  do  you  not  see 
through  this  courtly  craft?  If  ye  can  be  kept  disputing  and 
wrangling  about  church  and  meeting,  ye  just  answer  the  pur- 
pose of  every  courtier,  who  lives  a  while  on  the  spoil  of  the 
taxes,  and  laughs  at  your  credulity. — Every  religion  is  good 
that  teaches  man  to  be  good  ;  and  I  know  of  none  that  in- 
structs him  to  be  bad. 

All  the  beforementioned  calculations,  suppose  only  sixteen 
millions  and  an  half  of  taxes  paid  into  the  exchequer,  after  the 
expense  of  collection  and  drawbacks  at  the  custom-house  and 
excise-office  are  deducted  ;  whereas  the  sum  paid  into  the  ex- 
chequer is  very  nearly,  if  not  quite,  seventeen  millions.  The 
taxes  raised  in  Scotland  and  Ireland  are  expended  in  those 
countries,  and  therefore  their  savings  will  come  out  of  their  own 
taxes :  but  if  any  part  be  paid  into  the  English  exchequer,  it 


RIGHTS  OF  MAN.  433 

might  be  remitted.  —This  will  not  make  one  hundred  thousand 
pounds  a  year  difference. 

There  now  remains  only  the  national  debt  to  be  considered. 
In  the  year  1789,  the  interest,  exclusive  of  the  tontine,  was 
.£9,150,138.  How  much  the  capital  has  been  reduced  since 
that  time  the  minister  best  knows.  But  after  paying  the  in- 
terest, abolishing  the  tax  on  houses  and  windows,  the  commut- 
ation tax  and  the  poor-rates,  and  making  all  the  provisions  for 
the  poor,  for  the  education  of  children,  the  support  of  the  aged, 
the  disbanded  part  of  the  army  and  navy,  and  increasing  the 
pay  of  the  remainder,  there  will  be  a  surplus  of  one  million. 

The  present  scheme  of  paying  off  the  national  debt  appears 
to  me,  speaking  as  an  indifferent  person,  to  be  an  ill-concerted, 
if  not  a  fallacious  job.  The  burden  of  the  national  debt  con- 
sists not  in  its  being  so  many  millions,  or  so  many  hundred 
millions,  but  in  the  quantity  of  taxes  collected  every  year  to 
pay  the  interest.  If  this  quantity  continues  the  same,  the 
burden  of  the  national  debt  is  the  same  to  all  intents  and  pur- 
poses, be  the  capital  more  or  less. — The  only  knowledge  which 
the  puplic  can  have  of  the  reduction  of  the  debt,  must  be 
through  the  reduction  of  taxes  for  paying  the  interest.  The 
debt,  therefore,  is  not  reduced  one  farthing  to  the  public  by  all 
the  millions  that  been  paid  ;  and  it  would  require  more  money 
now  to  purchase  up  the  capital,  than  when  the  scheme  began. 

Digressing  for  a  moment  at  this  point,  to  which  I  shall  re- 
turn attain,  I  look  back  to  the  appointment  of  Mr.  Pitt,  an 
minister 

I  was  then  iia  America.  The  war  was  over ;  and  though  re- 
sentment had  ceased,  memory  was  still  alive. 

When  the  news  of  the  coalition  arrived,  though  it  was  a 
matter  of  no  concern  to  me  as  a  citizen  of  America,  I  felt  it  as 
a  man.  It  had  something  in  it  which  shocked,  by  publicly 
sporting  with  decency,  if  not  with  principle.  It  was  impudence 
in  Lord  North ;  it  was  a  want  of  firmness  in  Mr.  Fox. 

Mr.  Pitt  was,  at  that  time,  what  may  be  called  a  maiden 
character  in  politics.  So  far  from  being  hackneyed,  he  appeared 
not  to  be  initiivted  into  the  first  mysteries  of  court  intrigue. 
Everything  was  in  his  favor.  Resentment  against  the  coalition 
served  as  friendship  to  him,  and  his  ignorance  of  vice  was 
credited  for  viitue.  With  the  return  of  peace,  commerce  and 
prosperity  waild  rise  of  itself,  j  yet  even  this  increase  was 
thrown  to  hi»  nccount 


RIGHTS    OF    MAN. 

When  h«  came  to  the  helm,  the  storm  was  over,  and  he  had 
nothing  to  interrupt  his  course.  It  required  even  ingenuity  to 
be  wrong,  and  he  succeeded.  A  little  time  showed  him  the 
same  sort  of  man  as  his  predecessors  had  been.  Instead  of 
profiting  by  those  errors  which  had  accumulated  a  burden  of 
taxes  unparalleled  in  the  world,  he  sought,  I  might  almost  say, 
he  advertised  for  enemies,  and  provoked  means  to  increase  tax- 
ation. Aiming  at  something,  he  knew  not  what,  he  ransacked 
Europe  and  India  for  adventures,  and  abandoning  the  fair  pre- 
tensions he  began  with,  became  the  knight-errant  of  modern 
times. 

It  is  unpleasant  to  see  character  throw  itself  away.  It  is 
more  so  to  see  one's  self  deceived.  Mr.  Pitt  had  merited  no- 
thing, but  he  promised  much.  He  gave  symptoms  of  a  mind 
superior  to  the  meanness  and  corruption  of  courts.  His  appar- 
ent candor  encouraged  expectations;  and  the  public  confidence, 
stunned,  wearied,  and  confounded  by  a  chaos  of  parties,  revived 
and  attached  itself  to  him.  But  mistaking,  as  he  has  done,  the 
disgust  of  the  nation  against  the  coalition  for  merit  in  himself, 
he  has  rushed  into  measures  which  a  man  less  supported  would 
not  have  presumed  to  act. 

All  this  seems  to  show  that  change  of  ministers  amounts  to 
nothing.  One  goes  out,  another  comes  in,  and  still  the  same 
measures,  vices,  and  extravagance  are  pursued.  It  signifies  not 
who  is  minister.  The  defect  lies  in  the  system.  The  foundation 
and  the  superstructure  of  the  government  is  bad.  Prop  it  as  you 
please,  it  continually  sinks  into  court  government  and  ever  will. 
I  return,  as  I  promised,  to  the  subject  of  the  national  debt, 
that  offspring  of  the  Anglo-Dutch  revolution,  and  its  handmaid, 
the  Hanover  succession. 

But  it  is  now  too  late  to  inquire  how  it  began.  Those  to 
whom  it  is  due  have  advanced  the  money;  and  whether  it  was 
well  or  ill  spent,  or  pocketed,  is  not  their  crime. — It  is,  howe  ver, 
easy  to  see,  tliat  as  the  nation  proceeds  in  contemplating  the 
nature  and  principles  of  government,  and  to  understand  taxes', 
and  make  comparisons  between  those  of  America,  France,  and 
England,  it  will  be  next  to  impossible  to  keep  it  in  the  same 
torpid  state  it  has  hitherto  been.  Some  reform  must,  from  the 
necessity  of  the  case,  soon  begin.  It  is  not  whether  these  prin- 
ciples press  with  little  or  much  force  in  the  present  moment. 
They  are  out.  They  are  abroad  in  the  world,  and  no  force  can 
•top  them.  Like  a  secret  told,  they  are  beyond  recall :  and  Lo 


RIGHTS   OF    MAN.  435 

must  be  blind  indeed  that  does  not  see  that  a  change  is  already 
beginning. 

Nine  millions  of  dead  taxes  is  $  serious  thing;  and  this  not 
only  for  bad,  but  in  a  great  measure  for  foreign  government 
By  putting  the  power  of  making  war  into  the  hands  of  the 
foreigners  who  came  for  what  they  could  get,  little  else  was  to 
be  expected  than  what  has  happened. 

Reasons  are  already  advanced  in  this  work,  showing  that 
whatever  the  reforms  in  the  taxes  may  be,  they  ought  to  be 
made  in  the  current  expenses  of  government,  and  not  in  the 
part  applied  to  the  interest  of  the  national  debt. — By  remitting 
the  taxes  of  the  poor,  they  will  be  totally  relieved  and  all  dis- 
content will  be  taken  away;  and  by  striking  off  such  of  the 
taxes  as  are  already  mentioned,  the  nation  will  more  than  re- 
cover the  whole  expense  of  the  mad  American  war. 

There  will  then  remain  only  the  national  debt  as  a  subject  of 
discontent,  and  in  order  to  remove,  or  rather  to  prevent  this,  it 
would  be  good  policy  in  the  stockholders  themselves  to  consider 
it  as  property,  subject,  like  all  other  property,  to  bear  some  por- 
tion of  the  taxes.  It  would  give  to  it  both  popularity  and 
security,  and,  as  a  great  part  of  its  present  inconvenience  is 
balanced  by  the  capital  which  it  keeps  alive,  a  measure  of  this 
kind  would  so  far  add  to  that  balance  as  to  silence  objections. 

This  may  be  done  by  such  gradual  means  as  to  accomplish  all 
that  is  necessary  with  the  greatest  ease  and  convenience. 

Instead  of  taxing  the  capital,  the  best  method  would  be  to 
tax  the  interest  by  some  progressive  ratio,  and  to  lessen  the 
public  taxes  in  the  same  proportion  as  the  interest  diminished. 

Suppose  the  interest  was  taxed  one  halfpenny  in  the  pound 
the  first  year,  a  penny  more  the  second,  and  to  proceed  by  a 
certain  ratio  to  be  determined  upon,  always  less  than  any 
other  tax  upon  property.  Such  a  tax  would  be  subtracted 
from  the  interest  at  the  time  of  payment,  without  any  expense 
of  collection. 

One  halfpenny  in  the  pound  would  lessen  the  interest,  and 
consequently  the  taxes,  twenty  thousand  pounds.  The  tax  on 
wagons  amounts  to  this  sum,  and  this  tax  might  be  taken  off 
the  tirst  year.  The  second  year  the  tax  on  female  servants,  or 
some  other  of  the  like  amount  might  also  be  taken  off,  and  by 
proceeding  in  this  manner,  always  applying  the  tax  raised  from 
the  property  of  the  debt  towards  its  extinction,  and  not  carry- 
ing it  to  the  current  services,  it  would  liberate  itself. 


436  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

The  stockholders,  notwithstanding  this  tax,  would  pay  less 
taxes  than  they  do  now.  What  they  would  save  by  the  extinc- 
tion of  the  poor-rates,  and  the  tax  on  houses  and  windows,  and 
the  commutation  tax,  would  be  considerably  greater  than  what 
this  tax,  slow,  but  certain  in  its  operation,  amounts  to. 

It  appears  to  me  to  be  prudence  to  look  out  for  measures 
that  may  apply  under  any  circumstance  that  may  approach. 
There  is,  at  this  moment,  a  crisis  in  the  affairs  of  Europe  that 
requires  it.  Preparation  now  is  wisdom.  If  taxation  be  once 
let  loose,  it  will  be  difficult  to  reinstate  it;  neither  would  the 
relief  be  so  effectual,  as  if  it  proceeded  by  some  certain  and 
gradual  reduction. 

The  fraud,  hypocrisy,  and  imposition  of  governments  are 
now  beginning  to  be  too  well  understood  to  promise  them  any 
longer  career.  The  farce  of  monarchy  and  aristocracy,  in  all 
countries,  is  foil  owing  that  of  chivalry,  and  Mr.  Burke  is  dress- 
ing for  the  funeral.  Let  it  then  pass  quietly  to  the  tomb  of  all 
other  follies,  and  the  mourners  be  comforted. 

The  time  is  not  very  distant,  when  England  will  laugh  at 
itself  for  sending  to  Holland,  Hanover,  Zell,  or  Brunswick  for 
men,  at  the  expense  of  a  million  a-year,  who  understood  neither 
her  laws,  her  language,  nor  her  interest,  and  whose  capacities 
would  scarcely  have  fitted  them  for  the  office  of  a  parish  con- 
stable. If  government  could  be  trusted  to  such  hands,  it  must 
be  some  easy  and  simple  thing  indeed,  and  materials  fit  for  all 
the  purposes  may  be  found  in  every  town  and  village  in  Eng- 
land. 

When  it  shall  be  said  in  any  country  in  the  world,  my  poor 
are  happy ;  neither  ignorance  nor  distress  is  to  be  found  among 
them;  my  jails  are  empty  of  prisoners,  my  streets  of  beggars; 
the  aged  are  not  in  want,  the  taxes  are  not  oppressive:  the 
rational  world  is  my  friend,  because  I  am  the  friend  of  its 
happiness:  when  these  things  can  be  said,  then  may  that 
country  boast  of  its  constitution  and  its  government. 

Within  the  space  of  a  few  years  we  have  seen  two  revolutions, 
those  of  America  and  France.  In  the  former,  the  contest  was 
long  and  the  conflict  severe;  in  the  latter,  the  nation  acted 
with  such  a  consolidated  impulse,  that  having  no  foreign  enemy 
to  contend  with,  the  revolution  was  complete  in  power  the  mo- 
ment it  appeared.  From  both  those  instances,  it  is  evident 
that  the  greatest  forces  that  can  be  brought  into  the  field  of 
revolutions  are  reason  and  common  interest.  Where  these  can 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  437 

have  the  opportunity  of  acting,  opposition  dies  with  fear,  or 
crumbles  away  by  conviction.  It  is  a  great  standing  which 
they  have  now  universally  obtained;  and  we  may  hereafter 
hope  to  see  revolutions,  or  changes  in  governments,  produced 
with  the  same  quiet  operation  by  which  any  measure,  determin- 
able  by  reason  and  discussion,  is  accomplished. 

When  a  nation  changes  its  opinion  and  habits  of  thinking,  it 
is  no  longer  to  be  governed  as  before ;  but  it  would  not  only  be 
wrong,  but  bad  policy,  to  attempt  by  force  what  ought  to  be 
accomplished  by  reason.  Rebellion  consists  in  forcibly  opposing 
the  general  will  of  a  nation,  whether  by  a  party  or  by  a  govern- 
ment. There  ought,  therefore,  to  be  in  every  nation  a  method 
of  occasionally  ascertaining  the  state  of  public  opinion  with  re- 
spect to  .government.  On  this  point  the  old  government  of 
France  was  superior  to  the  present  government  of  England, 
because,  on  extraordinary  occasions,  recourse  could  be  had  to 
what  was  then  called  the  states-general.  But  in  England  there 
are  no  such  occasional  bodies;  and  as  to  those  who  are  now 
called  representatives,  a  great  part  of  them  are  mere  machines 
of  the  court,  placemen  and  dependants. 

I  presume,  that  though  all  the  people  of  England  pay  taxes, 
not  a  hundredth  part  of  them  are  electors,  and  the  members 
of  one  of  the  houses  of  parliament  represent  nobody  but  them- 
selves. There  is,  therefore,  no  power  but  the  voluntary  will  of 
the  people  that  has  a  right  to  act  in  any  matter  respecting  a 
general  reform;  and  by  the  same  right  that  two  persons  can 
confer  on  such  a  subject,  a  thousand  may.  The  object,  in  all 
such  preliminary  proceedings,  is  to  find  out  what  the  general 
sense  of  a  nation  is,  and  to  be  governed  by  it.  If  it  prefer  a  bad 
or  defective  government  to  a  reform,  or  choose  to  pay  ten  times 
more  taxes  than  there  is  any  occasion  for,  it  has  a  right  so  to 
do;  and  so  long  as  the  majority  do  not  impose  conditions  on 
the  minority,  different  from  what  they  impose  upon  themselves, 
though  there  may  be  much  error,  there  is  no  injustice.  Neither 
will  the  error  continue  long.  Reason  and  discussion  will  soon 
bring  things  right,  however  wrong  they  may  begin.  By  such  a 
process  no  tumult  is  to  be  apprehended.  The  poor,  in  all 
countries,  are  naturally  both  peaceable  and  grateful  in  all  re- 
forms in  which  their  interest  and  happiness  are  included.  It 
is  only  by  neglecting  and  rejecting  them  that  they  become 
tumultuous. 

The  objects  that  now  press  on  the  public  attention  are,  the 


438  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

French  revolution,  and  the  prospect  of  a  general  revolution  in 
governments.  Of  all  nations  in  Europe  there  is  none  so  much 
interested  in  the  French  revolution  as  England.  Enemies  for 
ages,  and  that  at  a  vast  expense,  and  without  any  national  ob- 
ject, the  opportunity  now  presents  itself  of  amicably  closing  the 
scene,  and  joining  their  efforts  to  reform  the  rest  of  Europe.  By 
doing  this  they  will  not  only  prevent  the  further  effusion  of 
blood  and  increase  of  taxes,  but  be  in  a  condition  of  getting 
rid  of  a  considerable  part  of  their  present  burdens,  as  has  been 
already  stated.  Long  experience,  however,  has  shown  that  re- 
forms of  this  kind  are  not  those  which  old  governments  wish  to 
promote,  and  therefore,  it  is  to  nations,  and  not  to  such  govern- 
ments, that  these  matters  present  themselves. 

In  the  preceding  part  of  this  work,  I  have  spoken  of  an 
alliance  between  England,  France,  and  America  for  purposes 
that  were  to  be  afterwards  mentioned.  Though  I  have  no 
direct  authority  on  the  part  of  America,  I  have  good  reason 
to  conclude  that  she  is  disposed  to  enter  into"  a  consideration 
of  such  a  measure,  provided  that  the  governments  with  which 
she  might  ally,  acted  as  national  governments,  and  not  as 
courts  enveloped  in  intrigue  and  mystery.  That  France  as  a 
nation  and  a  national  government,  would  prefer  an  alliance 
with  England,  is  a  matter  of  certainty.  Nations,  like  indi- 
viduals, who  have  long  been  enemies,  without  knowing  each 
other,  or  knowing  why,  become  better  friends  when  they  dis- 
cover the  errors  and  impositions  under  which  they  had  acted. 

Admitting,  therefore,  the  probability  of  such  a  connexion,  I 
will  state  some  matters  by  which  such  an  alliance,  together 
with  that  of  Holland,  might  render '  service,  not  only  to  the 
parties  immediately  concerned,  but  to  all  parts  of  Europe. 

It  is,  I  think,  quite  certain,  that  if  the  fleets  of  England, 
France,  and  Holland  were  confederated,  they  could  propose, 
with  effect,  a  limitation  to,  and  a  general  dismantling  of,  all 
the  navies  in  Europe,  to  a  certain  proportion  to  be  agreed  upon. 

1st,  That  no  new  ship  of  war  shall  be  built  by  any  power  in 
Europe,  themselves  included. 

2nd,  That  all  the  navies  now  in  existence  shall  be  put  back, 
suppose,  to  one-tenth  of  their  present  force.  This  will  save  to 
France  and  England,  each,  at  least  two  millions  annually,  and 
their  relative  force  be  in  the  same  proportion  as  it  is  now.  If 
men  will  permit  themselves  to  think,  as  rational  beings  ought 
to  think,  nothing  can  appear  more  ridiculous  and  absurd,  ex- 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  439 

elusive  of  all  moral  reflections,  than  to  he  at  the  expense  of 
building  navies,  filling  them  with  men,  and  then  hauling  them 
into  the  ocean,  to  try  which  can  sink  each  other  fastest. 
Peace,  which  costs  nothing,  is  attended  with  infinitely  more 
advantage  than  any  victory  with  all  its  expense.  But  this, 
though  it  best  answers  the  purpose  of  nations,  does  not  that  of 
court  governments,  whose  habitual  policy  is  pretence  for  taxa- 
tion, places  and  offices. 

It  is,  I  think,  also  certain  that  the  above  confederated  powers, 
together  with  that  of  the  United  States  of  America,  can  pro- 
pose, with  effect,  to  Spain,  the  independence  of  South  America, 
and  the  opening  those  countries  of  immense  extent  and  wealth 
to  the  general  commerce  of  the  world,  as  North  America  now  is. 

With  how  much  more  glory,  and  advantage  to  itself,  does  a 
nation  act,  when  it  exerts  its  powers  to  rescue  the  world  from 
bondage,  and  to  create  to  itself  friends,  than  when  it  employs 
those  powers  to  increase  ruin,  desolation  and  misery.  Tiie 
horrid  scene  that  is  now  acting  by  the  English  government  in 
the  East  Indies,  is  fit  only  to  be  told  of  Goths  and  Vandals, 
who,  destitute  of  principle,  robbed  and  tortured  the  world 
which  they  were  incapable  of  enjoying. 

The  opening  of  South  America  would  produce  an  immense 
field  for  commerce,  and  a  ready  money  market  for  manufac- 
tures, which  the  eastern  world  does  not.  The  East  is  already 
a  country  of  manufactures,  the  importation  of  which  is  not  only 
an  injury  to  the  manufactures  of  England,  but  a  drain  upon  its 
specie.  The  balance  against  England  by  this  trade  is  regularly 
upwards  of  half  a  million  annually  sent  out  in  the  East  India 
ships  in  silver;  and  this  is  the  reason,  together  with  German 
intrigue  and  German  subsidies,  that  there  is  so  little  silver  in 
England. 

But  any  war  is  harvest  to  sncb  governments,  however  ruinous 
it  may  be  to  a  nation.  It  serves  to  keep  up  deceitful  expec- 
tations, which  prevent  people  from  looking  into  the  defects  and 
abuses  of  government.  It  is  the  lo  here!  and  the  lo  there!  that 
amuses  and  cheats  the  multitude. 

Never  did  so  great  an  opportunity  offer  itself  to  England, 
and  to  all  Europe,  as  is  produced  by  the  two  revolutions  of 
America  and  France.  By  the  former,  freedom  has  a  national 
champion  in  the  western  world ;  and  by  the  latter,  in  Europe. 
When  another  nation  shall  join  France,  despotism  and  bad 
government  will  scarcely  dare  to  appear.  To  use  a  trite  ex- 


440  BIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

pression,  the  iron  is  becoming  hot  all  over  Europe.  The  in- 
sulted German  and  the  enslaved  Spaniard,  the  Russ  and  the 
Pole  are  beginning  to  think.  The  present  age  will  hereafter 
merit  to  be  called  the  Age  of  Reason,  and  the  present  gene- 
ration will  appear  to  the  future  as  the  Adam  of  a  new  world. 

When  all  the  governments  of  Europe  shall  be  established  on 
the  representative  system,  nations  will  become  acquainted,  and 
the  animosities  and  prejudices  fomented  by  the  intrigues  and 
artifice  of  courts,  will  cease.  The  oppressed  soldier  will  become 
a  freeman;  and  the  tortured  sailor,  no  longer  dragged  through 
the  streets  like  a  felon,  will  pursue  his  mercantile  voyage  in 
safety.  It  would  be  better  that  nations  should  continue  the 
pay  of  their  soldiers  during  their  lives,  and  give  them  their  dis- 
charge and  restore  them  to  freedom  and  their  friends,  and  cease 
recruiting,  than  retain  such  multitudes  at  the  same  expense,  in 
a  condition  useless  to  society  and  to  themselves.  As  soldiers 
have  hitherto  been  treated  in  most  countries,  they  might  be 
said  to  be  without  a  friend.  Shunned  by  the  citizens  on  an 
apprehension  of  their  being  enemies  to  liberty,  and  too  often 
insulted  by  those  who  commanded  them,  their  condition  was  a 
double  oppression.  But  where  genuine  principles  of  liberty 
pervade  a  people,  everything  is  restored  to  order;  and  the 
soldier  civilly  treated,  returns  the  civility. 

In  contemplating  revolutions,  it  is  easy  to  perceive  that  they 
may  arise  from  two  distinct  causes;  the  one,  to  avoid  or  get  rid 
of  some  great  calamity,  the  other,  to  obtain  some  great  and  posi- 
tive good;  and  the  two  may  be  distinguished  by  the  names  of 
active  and  passive  revolutions.  In  those  which  proceed  from 
theiormer  cause,  the  temper  becomes  incensed  and  soured ;  and 
the  redress,  obtained  by  danger,  is  too  often  sullied  by  revenge. 
But  in  those  which  proceed  from  the  latter,  the  heart,  rather 
animated  than  agitated,  enters  serenely  upon  the  subject. 
Reason  and  discussion,  persuasion  and  conviction,  become  the 
weapons  in  the  contest,  and  it  is  only  when  those  are  attempted 
to  be  suppressed  that  recourse  is  had  to  violence.  When  men 
unite  in  agreeing  that  a  thing  is  good,  could  it  be  obtained,  such 
for  instance  as  relief  from  a  burden  of  taxes  and  the  extinction 
of  corruption,  the  object  is  more  than  half  accomplished.  What 
they  approve  as  the  end,  they  will  promote  in  the  means. 

Will  any  man  say  in  the  present  excess  of  taxation,  falling 
BO  heavily  on  the  poor,  that  a  remission  of  five  pounds  annually 
of  taxes  to  one  hundred  and  four  thousand  poor  families  is  not 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  441 

a.  good  thing?  Will  he  say  that  a  remission  of  seven  pounds 
annually  to  one  hundred  thousand  other  poor  families;  of  eight 
pounds  annually  to  another  hundred  thousand  poor  families, 
and  of  ten  pounds  annually  to  fifty  thousand  poor  and  widowed 
families  are  not  good  things?  And  to  proceed  a  step  further  in 
this  climax,  will  he  say,  that  to  provide  against  the  misfortunes 
to  which  all  human  life  is  subject,  by  securing  six  pounds  annually 
for  all  poor,  distressed,  and  reduced  persons  of  the  age  of  fifty 
and  until  sixty,  and  of  ten  pounds  annually  after  sixty,  is  not 
a  good  thing  ? 

Will  he  say,  that  an  abolition  of  two  millions  of  poor-ratea 
to  the  houskeepers,  and  of  the  whole  of  the  house  and  window- 
light  tax  and  of  the  commutation  tax  is  not  a  good  thing  1  Or 
will  he  say,  that  to  abolish  corruption  is  a  lad  thing  ? 

If,  therefore,  the  good  to  be  obtained  be  worthy  of  a  passive, 
rational,  and  costless  revolution,  it  would  be  bad  policy  to  pre- 
fer waiting  a  calamity  that  should  force  a  violent  one.  I  have 
no  idea,  considering  the  reforms  which  are  now  passing  and 
spreading  throughout  Europe,  that  England  will  permit  herself  to 
be  the  last;  and  where  the  occasion  and  the  opportunity  quietly 
offer,  it  is  better  than  to  wait  for  a  turbulent  necessity.  It  may 
be  considered  as  an  honor  to  the  animal  faculties  of  man  to  ob- 
tain redress  by  courage  and  danger;  but  it  is  far  greater  honor 
to  the  rational  faculties  to  accomplish  the  same  object  by  rea- 
son, accommodation,  and  general  consent.* 

As  reforms,  or  revolutions,  call  them  which  you  please,  extend 
themselves  among  nations,  those  nations  will  form  connexions 
and  conventions,  and  when  a  few  are  thus  confederated,  the 


•  I  know  it  is  the  opinion  of  many  of  the  most  enlightened  characters  in 
France  (there  always  will  be  those  who  see  further  into  events  than  others), 
not  only  among  the  general  mass  of  citizens,  but  of  many  of  the  principal 
members  of  the  national  assembly,  that  the  monarchical  plan  will  not  con- 
tinue many  years  in  that  couutry.  They  have  found  out  that,  as  wisdom 
cannot  be  hereditary,  power  ought  not — and  that  for  a  man  to  merit  a  million 
iterling  a-year  from  a  nation,  he  ought  to  have  a  mind  capable  of  compre- 
hending from  an  atom  to  a  universe,  which,  if  he  had,  he  would  be  above 
receiving  the  pay.  But  they  wished  not  to  appear  to  lead  the  nation  faster 
than  its  own  reason  and  interest  dictated.  In  all  the  conversations  where  I 
have  been  present  upon  this  subject,  the  idea  always  was,  that  when  such  a 
time,  from  the  general  opinion  of  the  nation,  shall  arrive,  that  the  honorable 
and  liberal  method  would  be,  to  make  a  handsome  present  in  fee  simple  to 
the  person,  whoever  he  may  be,  that  shall  then  be  in  the  monarchical  office, 
and  for  him  to  retire  to  the  enjoyment  of  private  life,  possessing  his  share  of 
general  rights  and  privileges,  and  to  be  no  more  accountable  to  the  public 
for  hia  time  and  his  conduct  than  any  other  citizen. 


442  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

progress  will  be  rapid,  till  despotism  and  corrupt  government 
be  totally  expelled,  at  least  out  of  two  quarters  of  the  world, 
Europe  and  America.  The  Algerine  piracy  may  then  be  com- 
manded to  cease,  for  it  is  only  by  the  malicious  policy  of  old 
governments  against  each  other  that  it  exists. 

Throughout  this  work,  various  and  numerous  as  the  subjects 
are,  which  I  have  taken  up  and  investigated,  there  is  only  a 
single  paragraph  upon  religion,  viz.  "that  every  religion  is  good 
that  teaches  man  to  be  good.  " 

I  have  carefully  avoided  to  enlarge  upon  the  subject,  because 
I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  what  is  called  the  present  ministry 
wish  to  see  contentions  about  religion  kept  up  to  prevent  the 
nation  turning  its  attention  to  subjects  of  government.  It  is  as 
if  they  were  to  say,  "  look  that  way,  or  any  way  but  this." 

But  as  religion  is  very  improperly  made  a  political  machine 
and  the  reality  of  it  is  thereby  destroyed,  I  will  conclude  this 
work  with  stating  in  what  light  religion  appears  to  me. 

If  we  suppose  a  large  family  of  children,  who,  on  any  particu- 
lar day,  or  particular  occasion,  made  it  a  custom  to  present  to 
their  parents  some  token  of  their  affection  and  gratitude,  each 
of  them  would  make  a  different  offering,  and  most  probably  in 
a  different  manner.  Some  would  pay  their  congratulations  in 
themes  of  verse  and  prose,  by  some  little  devices,  as  their 
genius  dictated,  or  according  to  what  they  thought  would 
please ;  and,  perhaps,  the  least  of  all,  not  able  to  do  any  of  those 
things,  would  ramble  into  the  garden,  or  the  field,  and  gather 
what  it  thought  the  prettiest  flower  it  could  find,  though  per- 
haps, it  might  be  but  a  simple  weed.  The  parents  would  be 
more  gratified  by  such  a  variety,  than  if  the  whole  of  them  had 
acted  on  a  concerted  plan,  and  each  had  made  exactly  the  same 
offering*  This  would  have  the  cold  appearance  of  contrivance. 
or  the  harsh  one  of  control.  But  of  all  unwelcome  things,  noth- 
ing would  more  afflict  the  parent  than  to  know,  that  the  whole 
of  them  had  afterwards  gotten  together  by  the  ears,  boys  and 
girls,  fighting,  reviling,  and  abusing  each  other  about  which  was 
the  best  or  the  worst  present. 

Why  may  we  not  suppose  that  the  great  Father  of  ail  is 
pleased  with  variety  of  devotion  ;  and  that  the  greatest  offence 
we  can  act,  is  that  by  which  we  seek  to  torment  and  rend  or  each 
other  miserable1?  For  my  own  part,  I  am  fully  satisfied  that 
what  I  am  now  doing,  with  an  endeavor  to  conciliate  mankind, 
to  render  kheir  condition  happv  to  unite  nations  that  have 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  443 

hitherto  been  enemies,  and  to  extirpate  the  horrid  practice  of 
war,  and  break  the  chains  of  slavery  and  oppression,  is  accept- 
able in  his  sight,  and  being  the  best  service  I  can  perform,  I  act 
it  cheerfully, 

I  do  not  believe  that  any  two  men,  on  what  are  called  doc- 
trinal points,  think  alike,  who  think  at  all.  It  is  only  those  who 
have  not  thought  that  appear  to  agree.  It  is  in  this  case  as 
with  what  is  called  the  British  constitution.  It  has  been  taken 
for  granted  to  be  good,  and  encomiums  have  supplied  the  place  of 
proof.  But  when  the  nation  comes  to  examine  into  principles 
and  the  abuses  it  admits,  it  will  be  found  to  have  more  defects 
than  I  have  pointed  out  in  this  work  and  the  former. 

As  to  what  are  called  national  religions,  we  may,  with  as 
much  propriety,  talk  of  national  gods.  It  is  either  political  craft 
or  the  remains  of  the  pagan  system,  when  every  nation  had  its 
separate  particular  deity.  Among  all  the  writers  of  the  English 
church  clergy,  who  have  treated  on  the  general  subject  of  relig- 
ion, the  present  Bishop  of  Llandatf  has  not  been  excelled,  and  it 
is  with  much  pleasure  that  I  take  this  opportunity  of  express- 
ing this  token  of  respect.  I  have  now  gone  through  the  whole 
of  the  subject,  at  least,  as  far  as  it  appears  to  me  at  present.  It 
has  been  my  intention  for  the  live  years  I  have  been  in  Europe 
to  offer  an  address  to  the  people  of  England  on  the  subject  of 
government,  if  the  opportunity  presented  itself  before  I  returned 
to  America.  Mr.  Burke  has  thrown  it  in  my  way,  and  I  thank 
him.  On  a  certain  occasion,  three  years  ago,  I  pressed  him  to 
propose  a  national  convention,  to  be  fairly  elected,  for  the  pur 
pose  of  taking  the  state  of  the  nation  into  consideration  ;  but  I 
found  that  however  strongly  the  parliamentary  current  was  then 
setting  against  the  party  he  acted  with,  their  policy  was  to  kee]  > 
everything  within  that  field  of  corruption,  and  trust  to  accident^. 
Long  experience  had  shown  that  parliaments  would  follow  any 
change  of  ministers,  and  on  this  they  rested  their  hopes  ami 
their  expectations 

Formerly,  when  divisions  arose  respecting  governments,  re- 
course was  had  to  the  sword,  and  a  civil  war  ensued.  That 
savage  custom  is  exploded  by  the  new  system,  and  reference  is 
had  to  national  conventions.  Discusssion  and  the  general  will 
arbitrates  the  question,  and  to  this,  private  opinion  yields  with 
a  good  grace,  and  order  is  preserved  uninterrupted. 

Some  gentlemen  have  affected  to  call  the  principles  upon 
which  this  work  and  the  former  part  of  the  "  Rights  of  Man  " 


444  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

are  founded,  "  a  new-fangled  doctrine."  The  question  is  not 
whether  these  principles  are  new  or  old,  but  whether  they  are 
right  or  wrong.  Suppose  the  former,  I  will  show  their  effect  by 
a  tigure  easily  understood. 

It  is  now  towards  the  middle  of  February.  Were  I  to  take 
a  turn  into  the  country,  the  trees  would  present  a  leafless,  win- 
tery  appearance.  As  people  are  apt  to  pluck  twigs  as  they  go 
along,  I  perhaps  might  do  the  same,  and  by  chance  might  ob- 
serve, that  a  single  bud  on  that  twig  had  begun  to  swell.  I 
should  reason  very  unnaturally,  or  rather  not  reason  at  all,  to 
suppose  this  was  the  only  bud  in  England  which  had  this  ap- 
pearance. Instead  of  deciding  thus,  I  should  instantly  conclude 
that  the  same  appearance  was  beginning,  or  about  to  begin, 
everywhere  ;  and  though  the  vegetable  sleep  will  continue  lon- 
ger on  some  trees  and  plants  than  on  others,  and  though  some  of 
them  may  not  blossom  for  two  or  three  years,  all  will  be  in  leaf 
in  the  summer,  except  those  which  are  rotten.  What  pace  the 
political  summer  may  keep  with  the  natural,  no  human  foresight 
can  determine.  It  is,  however,  not  difficult  to  perceive  that  the 
spring  is  begun.  Thus  wishing,  as  I  sincerely  do,  freedom  and 
happiness  to  all  nations,  I  close  the  SECOND  PART. 


RIGHTS  OF  MAN.  445 


APPENDIX. 


As  the  publication  of  this  work  has  been  delayed  beyond  the 
time  intended,  I  think  it  not  improper,  all  circumstances  con- 
sidered, to  state  the  causes  that  have  occasioned  that  delay. 

The  reader  will  probably  observe,  that  some  parts  in  the  plan 
contained  in  this  work  for  reducing  the  taxes,  and  certain  parts 
in  Mr.  Pitt's  speech  at  the  opening  of  the  present  session, 
Tuesday,  January  31,  are  so  much  alike,  as  to  induce  a  belief, 
that  either  the  author  had  taken  the  hint  from  Mr.  Pitt,  or  Mr. 
Pitt  from  the  author. — I  will  first  point  out  the  parts  that  are 
similar,  and  then  state  such  circumstances  as  I  am  acquainted 
with,  leaving  the  reader  to  make  his  own  conclusion. 

Considering  it  as  almost  an  unprecedented  case,  that  taxes 
should  be  proposed  to  be  taken  off,  it  is  equally  extraordinary 
that  such  a  measure  should  occur  to  two  persons  at  the  same 
time;  and  still  more  so  (considering  the  vast  variety  and  multi- 
plicity of  taxes),  that  they  should  hit  on  the  same  specific  taxes. 
Mr.  Pitt  has  mentioned,  in  his  speech,  the  tax  on  carts  and  wag- 
gons; that  on  female  servants;  the  lowering  the  tax  on  candles 
and  the  taking  off  the  tax  of  three  shillings  on  houses  having 
under  seven  windows. 

Every  one  of  those  specific  taxes  are  a  part  of  the  plan  con- 
tained in  this  work,  and  proposed  also  to  be  taken  off.  Mr. 
Pitt's  plan,  it  is  true,  goes  no  further  than  to  a  reduction  of 
three  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  pounds;  and  the  reduction 
proposed  in  this  work,  to  nearly  six  millions.  I  have  made  my 
calculations  on  only  sixteen  millions  and  a  half  of  revenue,  still 
asserting  that  it  was  very  nearly,  if  not  quite,  seventeen 
millions.  Mr.  Pitt  states  it  at  £16,690,000.  I  know  enough 
of  the  matter  to  say,  that  he  has  not  over-stated  it.  Having 
thus  given  the  particulars,  which  correspond  in  this  work  and 
and  his  speech,  I  will  state  a  chain  of  circumstances  that  may 
lead  to  some  explanation. 

The  first  hint  for  lessening  the  taxes,  and  that  as  a  conse- 
quence flowing  from  the  French  revolution,  is  to  be  found  in 
the  Address  and  Declaration  of  the  gentlemen  who  met  at  the 
Thatched-House  tavern,  August  20, 1791.  Among  many  other 


446  RIGHTS   OF   MAN. 

particulars  stated  in  that  address,  is  the  following,  put  as  an 
interrogation  to  the  government  opposers  of  the  French  revolu- 
tion. "  Are  they  sorry  that  the  pretence  for  new  oppressive  taxes, 
and  the  occasion  for  continuing  many  old  laxes  will  be  at  an  end?" 

It  is  well  known,  that  the  persons  who  chiefly  frequent  the 
Thatcbed-House  tavern,  are  men  of  court  connexions,  and  so 
much  did  they  take  this  address  and  declaration  respecting  the 
French  revolution,  and  the  reduction  of  taxes,  in  disgust,  that 
the  landlord  was  under  the  necessity  of  informing  the  gentle- 
men who  composed  the  meeting  of  the  20th  of  August,  and 
who  proposed  holding  another  meeting,  that  he  could  not  receive 
them.* 

What  was  only  hinted  in  the  address  and  declaration  respect- 
ing taxes  and  principles  of  government,  will  be  found  reduced 
to  a  regular  system  in  this  work.  But  as  Mr.  Pitt's  speech 
contains  some  of  the  same  things  respecting  taxes,  I  now  come 
to  give  the  circumstances  before  alluded  to. 

The  case  is  this:  This  work  was  intended  to  be  published 
just  before  the  meeting  of  parliament,  and  for  that  purpose  a 
considerable  part  of  the  copy  was  put  into  the  printer's  hands 
in  September,  and  all  the  remaining  copy,  as  far  as  page  348, 
which  contains  the  part  to  which  Mr.  Pitt's  speech  is  similar, 
was  given  to  him  full  six  weeks  before  the  meeting  of  parlia- 
ment, and  he  was  informed  of  the  time  at  which  it  was  to 
appear.  He  had  composed  nearly  the  whole  about  a  fortnight 
before  the  time  of  parliament's  meeting,  and  had  printed  as  far 
as  page  301,  and  had  given  me  a  proof  of  the  next  sheet,  up  to 
page  320.  It  was  then  in  sufficient  forwardness  to  be  out  at 
the  time  proposed,  as  two  other  sheets  were  ready  for  striking 

*The  gentleman  who  signed  the  address  and  declaration  as  chairman  of 
the  meeting,  Mr.  Home  Tooke,  being  generally  supposed  to  be  the  person 
•  who  drew  it  up,  and  having  spoken  much  in  commendation  of  it,  has  been 
jocularly  accused  of  praising  his  own  work.  To  free  him  from  this  embar- 
rassment, and  to  save  him  the  repeated  trouble  of  mentioning  the  author,  as 
he  has  not  failed  to  do,  I  make  no  Hesitation  in  saying,  that  as  the  opportunity 
of  benefiting  by  the  French  revolution  easily  occurred  to  me,  I  drew  up  the 
publication  in  question,  and  showed  it  to  him  and  some  other  gentlemen  ; 
who,  fully  approving  it,  held  a  meeting  for  the  purpose  of  making  it  public, 
and  subscribed  to  the  amount  of  fifty  guineas  to  defray  the  expense  of  adver- 
tising. I  believe  there  are  at  this  time  in  England  a  greater  number  of  men 
acting  on  disinterested  principles,  and  determined  to  look  into  the  nature 
and  practices  of  government  themselves,  and  not  blandly  trust,  as  has  hither- 
to been  the  case,  either  to  government  generally,  or  to  parliaments,  or  to 
parliamentary  opposition,  than  at  any  former  period.  Had  this  been  dore 
a  century  ago,  corruption  and  taxation  had  not  arrived  to  the  height  they 
are  now  at. 


RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  447 

off.  I  had  before  told  him,  that  if  he  thought  he  should  be 
straitened  for  time,  I  could  get  part  of  the  work  done  at  an- 
other press,  which  he  desired  me  not  to  do.  In  this  manner 
the  work  stood  on  the  Tuesday  fortnight  preceding  the  meet- 
ing of  parliament,  when  all  at  once,  without  any  previous  inti- 
mation, though  I  had  been  with  him  the  evening  before,  he 
sent  me  by  one  of  his  workmen,  all  the  remaining  copy,  from 
page  301,  declining  to  go  on  with  the  work  on  any  consideration. 

To  account  for  this  extraordinary  conduct  I  was  totally  at  a 
loss,  as  he  stopped  at  the  part  where  the  arguments  on  systems 
and  principles  of  government  closed,  and  where  the  plan  for 
the  reduction  of  taxes,  the  education  of  children,  and  the  sup- 
port of  the  poor  and  the  aged  begins ;  and  still  more  especially, 
as  he  had,  at  the  time  of  his  beginning  to  print,  and  before  he 
had  seen  the  whole  copy,  offered  a  thousand  pounds  for  the 
copyright,  together  with  the  future  copyright  of  the  former 
part  of  the  "  Rights  of  Man."  I  told  the  person  who  brought 
me  this  offer  that  I  should  not  accept  it,  and  wished  it  not  to 
be  renewed,  giving  him  as  my  reason,  that  though  I  believed 
the  printer  to  be  an  honest  man,  I  would  never  put  it  in  the 
power  of  any  printer  or  publisher  to  suppress  or  alter  a  work 
of  mine,  by  making  him  master  of  the  copy,  or  give  to  him  the 
right  of  selling  it  to  any  minister,  or  to  any  other  person,  or  to 
treat  as  a  mere  matter  of  traffic  that  which  I  intended  should 
operate  as  a  principle. 

His  refusal  to  complete  the  work  (which  he  could  not  pur- 
chase) obliged  me  to  seek  for  another  printer,  and  this  of  con- 
sequence would  throw  the  publication  back  till  after  the  meeting 
of  parliament,  otherwise  it  would  have  appeared  that  Mr.  Pitt 
had  only  taken  up  a  part  of  the  plan  which  I  had  more  fully 
stated. 

Whether  that  gentleman,  or  any  other,  had  seen  the  work 
or  any  part  of  it,  is  more  than  I  have  authority  to  say.  But 
the  manner  in  which  the  work  was  returned,  and  the  particular 
time  at  which  this  was  done,  and  that  after  the  offers  he  had 
made,  are  suspicious  circumstances.  I  know  what  the  opinion 
of  booksellers  and  publishers  is  upon  such  a  case,  but  as  to  my 
own  opinion,  I  choose  to  make  no  declaration.  There  are  many 
ways  by  which  proof  sheets  may  be  procured  by  other  persons 
before  a  work  publicly  appears;  to  which  I  shall  add  a  certain 
circumstance,  which  is, 

A  nr  material    bookseller,  in  Piccadilly,  who  has  been  em- 


148  KJGHTS   OF   MAN. 

ployed,  as  common  report  says,  by  a  clerk  of  one  of  the  boards 
closely  connected  with  the  ministry  (the  board  of  trade  and 
plantations,  of  which  Hawkesbury  is  president)  to  publish 
what  he  calls  my  Life  (I  wish  his  own  life  and  those  of  the 
cabinet  were  as  good),  used  to  have  his  books  printed  at  the 
same  printing-office  that  I  employed;  but  when  the  former 
parts  of  the  "  Rights  of  Man "  same  out,  he  took  his  work 
away  in  dudgeon;  and  about  a  week  or  ten  days  before  the 
printer  returned  my  copy,  he  came  to  make  him  an  offer  of  his 
work  again,  which  was  accepted.  This  would  consequently  give 
him  admission  into  the  printing-office  where  the  sheets  of  this 
work  were  then  lying;  and  as  booksellers  and  printers  are  free 
with  each  other,  he  would  have  the  opportunity  of  seeing  what 
was  going  on.  Be  the  case,  however,  as  it  may,  Mr.  Pitt's  plan, 
little  and  diminutive  as  it  is,  would  have  made  a  very  awkward 
appearance,  had  this  work  appeared  at  the  time  the  printer  had 
engaged  to  finish  it. 

I  have  now  stated  the  particulars  which  occasioned  the  delay, 
from  the  proposal  to  purchase,  to  the  refusal  to  print.  If  all 
the  gentlemen  are  innocent,  it  is  very  unfortunate  for  them 
that  such  a  variety  of  suspicious  circumstances  should,  without 
any  design,  arrange  themselves  together. 

Having  now  finished  this  part,  I  will  conclude  with  stating 
another  circumstance. 

About  a  fortnight  or  three  weeks  before  the  meeting  of  par- 
liament, a  small  addition,  amounting  to  about  twelve  shillings 
and  sixpence  a-year,  was  made  to  the  pay  of  the  soldiers,  or 
rather  their  pay  was  docked  so  much  less. — Some  gentlemen 
who  knew  in  part  that  this  work  would  contain  a  plan  of 
reforms  respecting  the  oppressed  condition  of  soldiers,  wished 
me  to  add  a  note  to  the  work,  signifying  that  the  part  upon 
that  subject  had  been  in  the  printer's  hands  some  weeks  before 
that  addition  of  pay  was  proposed.  I  declined  doing  this,  lest 
it  should  be  interpreted  into  an  air  of  vanity,  or  an  endeavor 
to  excite  suspicion  (for  which  perhaps  there  might  be  no 
grounds)  that  some  of  the  government  gentlemen  had,  by  some 
means  or  other,  made  out  what  this  work  would  contain;  and 
had  not  the  printing  been  interrupted  so  as  to  occasion  a  delay 
beyond  the  time  fixed  for  publication,  nothing  contained  in  this 
appendix  would  have  appeared.  THOMAS  PAINE. 

ETO    OP   THE    RIGHTS   OF  MAN. 


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